I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU NOW, IT'S SABOTAGE [523]

NOTE: I wrote the following in 2023 – my work-life balance has since improved.

“I have only formed one idea for my next article, and I have realised I don’t have enough of an idea to last five hundred words, so I’ll have to leave it for something else. What I was trying to form was ‘the call centre as Hitchcock film’. Just as Alfred Hitchcock talked about inserting the idea that a bomb could go off into a scene, in order to build suspense, could be translated as the tension of the phone waiting to ring, from when you have to put your handset on your head at the beginning of the day... in fact, the phone doesn’t ring, the call just comes through without prior warning, like something hitting you in the face. I still think an article exists here, I just need to think more about it first.”

 

Well, the inverted commas containing spare moments from my diary mean I didn’t get too far. 

 

I am a writer, and I sometimes make videos. I work as an administrator, where my strengths are in “back office” processing, and after a particularly bad week in more of a front-facing customer services role than was really comfortable, my mind wandered back to Alfred Hitchcock, who once forgot his own edict that, after winding up tension in the audience, the bomb should not go off – there has to be relief. Hitchcock had a boy unwittingly take a bomb onto a bus in his 1936 film “Sabotage”, and he was castigated in reviews for letting the bomb go off, which he accepted was his error.

 

I would be much happier having this to think about during my work week – administration is my job, but writing is my vocation, and being creative is what I do.

 

“I don’t want the last week to force a decision to take a break, a thought I am wrestling with - it is like having a chance to salvage the last week, but not having the week to do anything about it... I still need to find a way to write these articles during the week. What I do need to do is make plans for future articles, instead of coming up with them almost at the last moment. I need to have another book where I can write ideas, adding notes and plans as I go - saying it is one thing, doing it is another.”

 

There should come a metaphor at this point linking Alfred Hitchcock’s suspense narratives to my dealing with work-life balance – something about stopping bombs from going off. I tend to take stressful work days home with me, and stress takes time from everyone. Until that resolves itself, this metaphor is To Be Concluded.

 

“I am doing my best at improving the quality of my writing, which usually results in finding ways to say the same things with fewer words, but it shows that I am not done with the form of the five-hundred-plus-word article after nearly seven years. Will that come after ten years, or will it come once I can make video production easier, or at all?”

 

“Never” was my answer, closing my diary for the day.

 

WORDS TO MAKE THE FIGHTING CEASE [522]

I still think that knowing how to write a letter is a very useful life skill, even when most letters are now e-mails. Writing well makes you taken more seriously, no matter how the recipient’s e-mail reader presents it to them.

However, form continues to matter more than content for some letter writers, beyond even whether you indent paragraphs, double-space at the end of sentences, or use “Yours faithfully” if the addressee’s name is not known. 

To that end, the US Secretary of State has mandated that diplomats use the Times New Roman font over Calibri in both internal and external correspondence, reversing a change made in 2023. The bulletin said this was “to restore decorum and professionalism to the Department’s written work products and abolish yet another wasteful [diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility] program[me]”. The story reminded me of a 2019 story about former MP Jacob Rees-Mogg’s staff issuing a style guide for his letters, including banned words and rules on spacing, although no requirements for font usage was reported. One person’s decorum is another’s pretension.

In branding my website, YouTube videos and social media, I have seen my name in Futura Extra Bold for so long that I cannot imagine changing it. I had considered changing to Albertus, the woodcut-like font used throughout the TV series “The Prisoner”, but I like Futura’s presence as a clear, unambiguous typeface, regardless of how thick or wide you make it, coming from a Modernist, European tradition. It also happens to predate Times New Roman by five years, having first appeared in 1927.

The rounded ends of Calibri, contrasting with the ornate serifs of Times New Roman, were easier for people with certain sight conditions, and easier to read on a computer screen. I know the latter is correct, because regardless of how I start writing, my finished articles are saved on Microsoft Word in Calibri, a much easier choice for me to scan when typing and editing. Even after Microsoft replaced it, as the default font in Word, with the Helvetica-like Aptos in 2024, every new document I open in Word starts with changing the font back to Calibri. I use Arial when posting written articles online because, again, it is the clearest font available on the hosting software I use. I do not understand the use of Times New Roman on a computer screen except in large sizes, styling details becoming lost when made smaller.

Times New Roman, as the name suggests, had the very specific use case of being read on a printed page. When “The Times” introduced the font for the first time on 3rd October 1932, it acknowledged the reasons for the change to thicker lines and tighter spacing: “When it was founded, The Times was read in coffee-houses; in the nineteenth century, it came to be read in trains; to-day it is largely read in cars and airliners. Reading habits, dependent on social habits, will not remain constant. Neither must newspaper typography remain constant.”

Indeed, “The Times” only used Times New Roman until 1972, with each of the subsequent five “Times” fonts addressing changes in printing method, the paper used, and legibility concerns. The irony may well be that, for the perennially stuffy “newspaper of record” tradition in which “The Times” trades, the font in which it is read is the most progressive thing about it.

Meanwhile, If I know I am printing a letter, the font I use is Courier New, like I have used a typewriter. If in doubt, use a font that can be read from outer space. 

LISTEN TO THE MUSIC ALL THE TIME [521]

Sony Walkman NW-A45

With my sister deciding to ditch paying Spotify to stop interrupting her music playlists with advertisements, in favour of using an MP3 player to listen in comfort, we were surprised to find that a moderately-priced MP3 player, one that supports high-definition audio, no longer appears to exist, and there is no easy way to fill the gap created by this situation.

When I say “MP3” payer, it may be more accurate to say “personal media player” or, in my case, “Sony Walkman”, having owned an NW-A45 model since 2018 that plays my CD collection in a lossless format that streaming services would require me to pay a premium to access, providing they licenced the songs to begin with.

However, searching Sony’s website reveals that, if the bottom has not fallen out of their MP3 player range, the middle has: apart from low-end, low-storage devices that can only play lossy MP3 and WMA formats, and Android-based wi-fi-compatible models made with premium components that cost hundreds or even thousands of pounds, no mid-range device like my NW-A45 is available, with “Out of Stock” messages  for these being repeated on other online stores to the point where I believe production may have ended. Perhaps Sony are concentrating on publishing and owning the music instead.

Searching elsewhere produced similar results: Amazon either had a number of cheap MP3 players, from unknown brands that give no indication of their quality, or expensive devices by Astell & Kern or Fiio, while UK store chains Currys and Argos had either a cheap in-house brand MP3-only player, or CD players that can play MP3-encoded discs.

Streaming has not killed off the demand for devices that plays the music people own, although I do wonder if some people who junked their records and cassettes in previous years have since deleted their MP3s in favour of streaming. Pretty much everyone has a device that fulfils the job of playing music files stored to it: their smartphone. Apple guaranteed this by adding lossless FLAC playback to iPhones in 2017; discontinuing their final iPod, the iPod Touch, in 2022; and consistently increasing the available internal storage of iPhones into terabyte range. The next question is how to play the files: do you want the Apple Music app to access and subsume them, or play them from “Files”, which lacks the functionality of the dedicated app, or download a third app to keep things separate? 

This circles back to the desire for a dedicated device, and why I have not downloaded my FLAC files to my phone yet. For all that a phone can do in software, and most can do most things well enough, having a dedicated device geared to produce an optimum experience for a specific task is still appreciated where they can be found. The hardware in my Sony Walkman was made like you expect a decent hi-fi system to be made, instead of like a computer that can impersonate one. 

But I know I have not been using my Walkman full-time. I have referenced here a few times that I have used YouTube to listen to music, trading the quality of the audio for convenience, listening to music ad-free there being a by-product of paying to remove ads from videos. In some cases, those songs have been uploaded unofficially by any old person that had their own copy, so I have now found myself recently tracking down and buying CDs of those songs, so I no longer miss out on the quality I am currently sacrificing. Do I save those to my phone or Walkman, and will do so push me to use one or the other in future?

I am prepared to admit that this may all be just me, that I want something that doesn’t exist. But it used to exist.

DON’T GO FOR SECOND BEST [520]

David Fincher’s video for Madonna’s song “Express Yourself” (1989) ends with an epigraph: “Without the Heart, there can be no understanding between the hand and the mind." Inspired by the futuristic, utopian and dystopian of imagery Fritz Lang’s science-fiction magnum opus “Metropolis” (1927) – perhaps even down to Madonna’s monocle, although Lang never wore his on a chain – a similar epigram is displayed in capitals at the beginning, middle and end of that film: “THE MEDIATOR BETWEEN THE HEAD AND THE HANDS MUST BE THE HEART!”

The plot of “Metropolis” has become secondary to the visuals, not surviving the film’s being scattered to the wind following its premiere in Berlin. Its plot, a modified retelling of the Tower of Babel story, lost sub-plots and characters when it was re-ordered for Paramount’s US release by Channing Pollock, a playwright and sometime writer of the Ziegfeld Follies. Half an hour shorter than the original 153-minute length, this wider release was also seen across Germany, cut shorter still by Nazi Party censorship in the 1930s – this 93-minute version, archived by New York’s Museum of Modern Art, was pirated for low-quality public domain releases that blew out both greyscales and actors’ faces.

But the imagery shone through. Influenced by the Manhattan skyline, Art Deco and Modernism, the city of Metropolis can be found in “Blade Runner”, “Akira”, Superman and Batman comics, and Osamu Tezuka’s manga also titled “Metropolis”, itself later a film. The “Maschinenmensch” robot, designed by Walter Schulze-Mittendorf, is deliberately more human-looking for reasons explained later, and the underground workers’ city is stark in its comparative lack of detail, simple edifices below a concrete sky, the real sky only visible through grates.

The story is simple. Joh Fredersen, architect of the city of Metropolis, installed at the top of the New Tower of Babel, sees the underground workers that toil to keep the lights on above ground as “off where they belong”. His son Freder, entranced by the appearance of Maria, who came from the depths to show the underground children their “brothers and sisters” in the restricted Eternal Gardens, descends to witness the horror of the M-Machine, the “Moloch” devouring its workers, and works to bring hope. Maria, preaching from the catacombs, retells the allegory of the Tower of Babel, altered from its use as an allegory for why different languages and cultures exist: “But the hands that built the Tower of Babel knew nothing of the dream of which the head that had conceived it had been fantasising… The hymns of praise of one man had become the curses of others… The same language was spoken, but these men did not understand one another.” Freder knows he is the mediator from the start, and will link the hands of his father with the workers’ foreman at the film’s end.

The robot is the most startling image of “Metropolis”, and its reason for looking so close to human was lost among the cuts, along with scenes of the “Thin Man” enforcer trailing Freder, and scenes of the man who swapped places with Freder being tempted to join the hedonistic nightlife he previously could only imagine. The scientist that built the robot, Rotwang, is not the archetypal wild-haired, one-handed mad scientist that James Whale’s “Frankenstein” cemented, for his work to bring the robot to life was to resurrect the memory of a lost love, named Hel, who would eventually marry Joh Fredersen, dying after giving birth to Freder. Joh’s demand to turn the robot into a clone of Maria, to sew discord among the workers, is used by Rotwang as an opportunity to avenge Hel’s death by killing Freder, and to take the real Maria as a substitute. Just as Joh told Rotwang, “Let the dead lie, Rotwang… She’s dead for you as she is for me,” Rotwang’s reply is, “For me, she isn’t dead, for me she lives! Do you think the loss of a hand is too high a price for recreating Hel?”

I have previously mentioned watching four versions of “Metropolis” over the years. One was a 139-minute version on VHS, rented from a library, that undercranked the film to the extent I had to watch it on Fast Forward – that all silent films were made at sixteen frames per second is a misnomer. Giorgio Moroder’s pop music-laden version was comparatively quick, barely over eighty minutes, achieved mostly by replacing intertitles with subtitles, but the reincorporation of Gottfried Huppertz’s original hand-written score from the premiere, the original titles from German censor cards discovered in a film archive in Sweden, and many scenes from multiple sources, most importantly the rediscovery of a near-complete copy of the film in Buenos Aires in 2008, has allowed me to watch the film as near as possible to what was originally intended at its premiere.In terms of what I think about "Metropolis", I appreciate the visuals more now the full story is back in place.

I READ THE NEWS TODAY, OH BOY [519]

My umpteenth "Myra Breckinridge" reference

With the leaking to “The Times” newspaper of the Equality and Human Rights Commission’s (EHRC) update of the 2010 Equality Act Regulations, instigated by the Supreme Court judgement in April 2025 that transgender women with a Gender Recognition Certificate are not women under the terms of the Act, it has been confirmed that requests for paperwork for some people to enter single-sex spaces that correspond with their gender, found in interim changes to these regulations that have since been withdrawn, have been replaced with perception-based assessments on appearance and behaviour. 

This attempt to avoid the policing of these spaces inadvertently creates what sounds like, to me, a beauty contest, because what a joy it is going to be having to pass the test to appear in the correct space at the right time. 

This remains theory for now, as the knowledge of what could become law stems from a leak of something the Government is assessing, but considering how often “The Times” reports on this issue, and with the EHRC imploring the Government to implement these new regulations as soon as possible, this new report raises questions for me about motivations I won’t get answers for, as I will only be affected by what the final decisions will be.

Years of experience as a human being, let alone as a trans woman, show that “passing” as the correct gender in any situation, for anyone and everyone, is as much in the eye of the beholder as bias and prejudice will be in other situations. In using a public toilet or a changing room, the regulations make clear that there will be circumstances where you present so well in your gender that you can reasonably be excluded from the space that corresponds to your sex, but it is made clear I cannot be left without any facility.

I hope people don’t talk about me like they would the cross-dresser from across the road, if they have one, or any person they see more than once without ever needing to talk to them. I am not “committing to the bit”, I am being myself, but if you don’t know me, you don’t know that, and your confidence in bridging the gap should not then leave me at your mercy.

The knowledge that months of waiting for clarification of the law is effectively to continue the status quo that existed for decades, after what has felt like a protracted abjectification of trans people in the media since the Supreme Court judgement, is a profound waste of my time and energy. By necessity, “gender critical” belief is included in the regulations, but also crucial wording about distinguishing the objectionable expression of beliefs.

If implemented as reported, the new Equality Act regulations codify a loss of trust, regulating what could no longer be left to people to decide. Good luck, everyone.

NOW THAT I OWN THE BBC [518]

I am compelled to support the British Broadcasting Corporation in what is either its most perilous moment, or only its latest predicament, because I lay as much a claim to owning a public corporation and cultural institution as any other member of the British public, and as one inspired and shaped by what it has broadcast.

At the time of writing, the President of the United States is expected to sue the BBC for an edit made to a speech made on 6^th January 2021, that was shown in an episode of “Panorama” just before the 2024 Presidential election – two sentences were linked together without making clear the gap in time between them, the resulting montage creating a more inflammatory statement than made at the time. The BBC apologised for the edit, promising the programme would not be shown again, but also made clear the programme had not been aired in the United States, that the edit did not intend to harm the President, nor did it ultimately harm them, and it was to be considered as twelve seconds of an hour-long piece. 

 

All this for whether a fade, or flash of white, could have been used to illustrate the passage of time – I don’t know when the latter became a device used on television, but I am sure that I saw it on the BBC first. My love of its comedy programmes and documentaries led to my being intrigued as much by how they were made, how they conveyed their message, as much as what that message was – it is why I write, why I have made videos, why I took a film studies degree, and why I visited BBC Television Centre in 2009.

 

The BBC has spent a century building a reputation as a trustworthy and impartial broadcaster by not just being as even-handed and thorough as humanly possible across its entire output – a good maxim to live by too – but by demonstrating that these are ideals that are worth striving for, proven by the high quality and reputation British broadcasting has across the world.

 

Unfortunately for the BBC, the apology to the President did not work. The “Panorama” episode had been raised in an internal document from an editorial oversight board, leaked to a newspaper, which then led to accusations of political bias in news reporting, ideological capture, complacency or ignorance of issues, and political interference in the governance of a public body. Both the Director-General and CEO of BBC News have resigned, just as the process of renewing the BBC’s Royal Charter begins, giving commentators in other media the chance to declare the BBC out of touch, in need of reform, or in need of destruction as an anachronism the country no longer needs. The irony that most of these commentators have appeared on the BBC at some point is not lost on me: “Two resignations won’t do. It has to be scorched earth at the BBC” is the title of a piece by Camilla Long of “The Sunday Times”, who has appeared on the primetime satirical comedy quiz “Have I Got News For You” nine times between 2013 and 2023.

 

I am clear that there will always be the need for a BBC, a national broadcaster where democracy of access and information is at its core of its foundation. I once put the BBC alongside the NHS, Penguin Books and free art galleries as institutions that make up my idea of what the United Kingdom is, and should continue to be, alongside queuing and complaining about the weather. I should have included Channel 4 in that list: the UK’s other publicly owned public service broadcaster, it has been threatened with privatisation many times, most recently in 2022-23, each time halted over how it would damage the distinctive, innovative and experimental output it is mandated to have, and the larger independent TV production sector from there.

 

That said, I don’t know how much the BBC should be doing to cater to everyone, or how the money for that should be provided. Any reduction or selling-off of parts of the BBC will need to be weighted against any effect it may have on the creative economy of the UK, and the reflection of the UK’s cultures and values across the world – the existence of the BBC helped make either of those considerations possible in the first place. 

 

An expectation that we should all pay in some way towards public broadcasting will continue for as long as people believe in its universal benefit as an aid to democracy, a way of preventing anyone from being left behind in the information age. Anyone that doesn’t have a reason to believe that should find one.

 

This is only what I think, but everybody has something that would make them dread for the future of their country if it were to disappear, and mine has touched every part of my life.

I GOT BILLS I GOTTA PAY [517]

The personal computer was our first portal to cyberspace, but the smartphone is the yoke that made us denizens of an extended reality, and regardless of how involved we become, our connection to that reality requires upkeep, trade-ups and trade-offs.

My first mobile phone, bought in 2000, was bought for under £100, was topped up with pre-paid cards, and replaced my using public phone boxes. Phone number thirteen, also my ninth smartphone and sixth iPhone, is a portable computer plied with cameras, sensors and antennas and, fitting for its having replaced the local branch of my bank, it is financed through a two-year contract with a credit agreement and monthly payments, rolling the trade-in payment for my previous phone into paying off the next contract, all for a device that needs to be continuously on the verge of being replaced for the business model that drives their ownership to continue.

Fortunately for Apple, and my service provider, I wanted to replace my phone: both it and its contract were three years old, and I had become thoroughly sick with both through overfamiliarity and a depleted battery. I am sure most owners of the iPhone 17, me included, did not pay £/$/€799 for one upfront, or ever contemplated doing so - the objective is squaring monthly costs with noticeable improvement over the previous phone.

It’s almost like becoming tethered to your smartphone, if not becoming addicted to using it, is required to justify the expense, and more reasons for that tethering need to be created to make such a device indispensable, from managing home heating and electrical items through to unlocking doors and starting cars - generative A.I. features are one more symptom of the need to progress.

Fortunately for me, and despite increases in processing power, storage capacity and camera ability becoming more incremental with each model, but the lavender-coloured iPhone 17 I now own is more enticingly tactile than ever. The device’s edges are more rounded than the iPhone 14 Pro it replaces, making it easier to hold for longer, while the extra “Camera Control” finally gives me a proper shutter button. I have selected the “Action Button” to seek out titles of songs amongst ambient noise via Shazam, prioritising a feature I often use that was buried in an app or menu.

But this is Apple’s problem: in their eyes, I have downgraded, from a Pro-level iPhone to a regular one, but the improvements they made across all their phones in three years, from screen resolution and refresh speed to camera sensors and battery capacity, means enough of a difference is still being made to my experience of using the device - but seriously, one-touch Shazam is the game-changer for me here, with everything else working that bit more quickly and snappily.

Most importantly for me, the three-year contract I saddled myself with to use a Pro-level phone - trading in at the end of the contract makes it hard to say I truly owned it - was less preferable to only needing a two- year contract for something just as good. Perhaps this defines my monetary limits, but also those of the phone I need - I am not missing anything, even after turning off all A.I. features, and doing that may have extended the life of the battery even further.

I have no remedy for anything I have talked about - it is the framework we have collectively agreed on to provide a creeping necessity in our lives, and so long as it has something to offer us, we will keep it going.