Value

Sex is a funny business. It has become a hyper-efficient and deregulated marketplace, and, like any hyper-efficient and deregulated marketplace, it often makes people feel very bad.

Our newest sex technologies, such as Tinder and Grindr, are built to carefully match people by looks above all else. Sexual value continues to accrue to abled over disabled, cis over trans, thin over fat, tall over short, white over nonwhite, rich over poor.

There is an absurd mismatch in the way that straight men and women are taught to respond to these circumstances. Women are socialized from childhood to blame themselves if they feel undesirable, to believe that they will be unacceptable unless they spend time and money and mental effort being pretty and amenable and appealing to men. Conventional femininity teaches women to be good partners to men as a basic moral requirement: a woman should provide her man a support system, and be an ideal accessory for him, and it is her job to convince him, and the world, that she is good.

Men, like women, blame women if they feel undesirable.

They do no blame themselves for the things they say or do, or fail to say or fail to do. They do not blame the very narrow definitions available to them of male success in our society today.

And, as women gain the economic and cultural power that allows them to be choosy about their partners, men have generated ideas about self-improvement that are sometimes inextricable from violent rage.

A subset of straight men calling themselves “incels” have constructed a violent political ideology around the injustice of young, beautiful women refusing to have sex with them. These men often subscribe to notions of white supremacy. They are, by their own judgment, mostly unattractive and socially inept. (They frequently call themselves “subhuman.”) They’re also diabolically misogynistic.

“Society has become a place for worship of females and it’s so fucking wrong, they’re not Gods they are just a fucking cum-dumpster,” a typical rant on an incel message board reads. The idea that this misogyny is the real root of their failures with women does not appear to have occurred to them.

The incel ideology has already inspired the murders of at least sixteen people. Elliot Rodger, in 2014, in Isla Vista, California, killed six and injured fourteen in an attempt to instigate a “War on Women” for “depriving me of sex.” (He then killed himself.) Alek Minassian killed ten people and injured sixteen, in Toronto, last month; prior to doing so, he wrote, on Facebook, “The Incel Rebellion has already begun!” You might also include Christopher Harper-Mercer, who killed nine people, in 2015, and left behind a manifesto that praised Rodger and lamented his own virginity.

Incel stands for “involuntarily celibate,” but there are many people who would like to have sex and do not. (The term was coined by a queer Canadian woman, in the nineties.) Incels aren’t really looking for sex; they’re looking for absolute male supremacy. Sex, defined to them as dominion over female bodies, is just their preferred sort of proof.

What incels want is extremely limited and specific: they want unattractive, uncouth, and unpleasant misogynists to be able to have sex on demand with young, beautiful women. They believe that this is a natural right.

It is men, not women, who have shaped the contours of the incel predicament. It is male power, not female power, that has chained all of human society to the idea that women are decorative sexual objects, and that male worth is measured by how good-looking a woman they acquire. Women—and, specifically, feminists—are the architects of the body-positivity movement, the ones who have pushed for an expansive redefinition of what we consider attractive. “Feminism, far from being Rodger’s enemy,” Srinivasan wrote, “may well be the primary force resisting the very system that made him feel—as a short, clumsy, effeminate, interracial boy—inadequate.” Women, and L.G.B.T.Q. people, are the activists trying to make sex work legal and safe, to establish alternative arrangements of power and exchange in the sexual market.

CheckLists

My youngest daughter is safely through A levels to her preferred university, studying her preferred course, a four year MEng. in general engineering.

& of course I have managed to mislay the list of things that we need to do now but to a certain extent it’s all just waiting to hear back from the university on accommodation.

We’ll need to set up a student bank account, which means taking a look around to see what each one offers. In practical terms it’s easiest to open an account if a parent already has an account there, but that gives us a choice of 3-4 banks. That’s a morning trip to the nearest branch and an hour or so spent filling forms. At the same time we could update here ISA savings account to make it an adult account she can link to her current account for savings. It’s not a bad idea to get them started saving a small sum each month.

We need to organise a student railcard though its a university where it makes sense to drive for the second and third year so maybe not a railcard for all 3 years.

Assuming that she gets offered self-catering then we will need to dig out whatever is left and still suitable from her sister’s first year (single quilt and bedlinen hopefully) before heading off to Ikea or similar to buy some pots and pans etc.

University checklist: Important documents

  • Passport (or other ID)
  • All official university correspondence, including acceptance letter
  • All student loan correspondence (to keep track of when your loan is due, and so you can follow up if necessary)
  • Details of accommodation and contract
  • Bank account details and recent bank correspondence
  • Bank card
  • National insurance card/details
  • Student discount cards (e.g. 16-25 Railcard, NUS card)

University checklist: Electricals

  • Laptop or desktop computer
  • Mobile phone and charger
  • Extension cable/s
  • USB memory stick (for backing up important assignments)
  • Headphones
  • Speakers

University checklist: Stationery

  • Pens and pencils
  • A4 lined notepad(s)
  • A4 binder(s)
  • Highlighters
  • Post-it notes
  • Calendar/diary
  • Paper clips
  • Stapler
  • Sticky tape
  • Course readers and other study books

University checklist: Kitchenware

  • Cutlery (tea spoons, tablespoons, knives and forks – enough for yourself)
  • Crockery (plates, bowls and mugs – enough for yourself)
  • Other utensils (e.g. chopping board and sharp knife, wooden spoon, spatula, cheese grater, potato masher, colander, bottle opener, tin opener)
  • Saucepan and frying pan
  • Kettle and or toaster for own room
  • Scissors (do not attempt to double up as toenail clippers)
  • Baking tray
  • Tupperware container(s)
  • Washing up liquid and sponge
  • Recipe book
  • Snacks (going to university without biscuits is like going to Barbados without a sunhat)
  • TeaTowel

University checklist: Bedroom

  • Mattress protector
  • Duvet and pillows (at least 3 pillows because they’re useful cushions if you have guests in your room, and you want guests)
  • Duvet cover and pillow covers
  • Blankets
  • Laundry bin (doesn’t have to be wicker, a large and strong plastic bag will do!)
  • Clothes hangers
  • Alarm clock (as a backup for the day when you inevitably drop your phone down the toilet)
  • Desk lamp
  • Ear plugs
  • doorstop

University checklist: Bathroom

  • Toothbrush and toothpaste
  • Wash bag (especially useful if you’re sharing a bathroom which is a short walk away from your bedroom)
  • Soap
  • Shampoo and conditioner, Shower gel
  • Deodorant
  • Razor
  • Towel (x2)
  • Hand towel
  • Flannel
  • Hair brush, hairdryer
  • Toilet roll
  • Tampons/sanitary towels

University checklist: Healthcare

  • Any personal medications and prescriptions
  • Basic first aid kit (e.g. pain relief tablets, plasters, cold and flu medication, allergy tablets, antibacterial lotion or spray)
  • Details of current GP and doctor’s surgery
  • Glasses and prescription
  • Multivitamins
  • Birth control pills and/or condoms

Note: All new university students should register with a local doctor’s surgery early on in university life. This will save you having to wait for hours at a drop-in center filling out forms on the day that you’re actually ill.

University checklist: Miscellaneous

  • Sturdy bag (capable of carrying stacks of books)
  • Photographs of friends and family
  • Small sewing kit
  • Matches or a lighter
  • Films/TV series boxsets
  • Board/card games (e.g. Monopoly, Hungry Hippos or a pack of cards)
  • Hair dryer/ hair straighteners etc.

 

White nougat with dried apricot and cherry

A fudgy, light mix of caramel and meringue, studded with toasted nuts and fruit

Tamal Ray’s white nougat with dried apricot and cherry.

Nougat is basically a caramel whisked into egg white. Once you’ve got the hang of it, you can customise it with all sorts of flavours: different dried fruits, nuts, orange zest and spices. Go and experiment. You will need a sugar thermometer for this.

Prep 10 min
Cook 25 min
Serves 4-6

40g hazelnuts
40g almonds
50g dried apricots
50g dried cherries
1 large egg white
250g granulated or caster sugar
50g golden syrup
50g honey

Roast the nuts at 200C/390F/gas 6, for six to eight minutes, until browned. Chop the dried apricots the same size as the dried cherries.

Have the egg white ready to whip in the bowl of a stand mixer. Put the sugar, syrup and 100ml water in a pan, and heat over a medium flame, stirring gently to dissolve the sugar. Brush down any sugar crystals from the side of the pan with a wet pastry brush.

Once the mixture starts to boil, stop stirring ( the sugars may recrystallise if you do). Continue to boil until it reaches 145C.

Take the pan off the heat and pour in the honey. Swirl it around the pan until evenly mixed, then return to the heat. The mixture will bubble up; continue to heat for a further few minutes until it’s back to 145C.

Meanwhile, turn the stand mixer on high to whip the egg white to stiff peaks. Turn off the mixer, pour a little of the molten sugar into the egg foam and pulse for a few seconds until mixed, then repeat, adding a little sugar syrup at a time, until you’ve used it all up. Continue to whip on high for two minutes, until it starts to thicken, then stir in the nuts and fruit.

Pour out on to a sheet of greaseproof paper, spreading it out into a roughly rectangular shape. Top with another sheet of paper, then roll into a 2cm-thick slab.

Once completely cooled, peel off the paper and use a sharp knife to cut into strips.

Snaefellsness Peninsula, Iceland

We headed north out of Reykjavik towards the Snaefellssness Peninsula and despite ending up at a lovely hotel, were stuck in the worst, smallest rooms there so suffered a bit. Since every hotel room costs an extraordinary amount, anything less than good feels like a cheat, and no room with less than a square meter of full-headheight space could be described as good.

Hotel Egilson

With only one day to pause before heading north to the Westfjords, we headed out across the peninsula in the rain and fog.

Through the mist

And despite the gloominess there was a grandeur to it, as well as quite a lot of water.

There were plenty of open spaces and views, cute bakeries and traditional churches; all with the most sparse and unforgiving background I’ve ever come across.

The long road through the lupins

It really was very bleak grandeur, punctuated by the very occasional bungalow. It seems that the Icelandic people are utilitarian to the core.

Cold Lava Flows
Trolls hideaway

Except there are glimpses of pure whimsy, where caverns and caves are described as being the hang-out of trolls with “luscious” daughters.

And back at the hotel, the sun came out to shine.

Shame it didn’t last for the ferry ride north.

Iceland

Planning a trip to Iceland was a strange business. Everyone who has been raves about the place and about the ring road, but when you drill down, none of them seems to have completed the entire circuit around the island.

It seemed logical to plan a round trip by looking at the ring road and any detours, setting aside 2-3 nights at each stop, and trying not to end up with too many all-day drives. It helps to focus on what you regard as the highlights of a visit, which for me is always about the photography, which roughly translates as landscape, animals and city scenes.

Hiring a car in Iceland seems ridiculously expensive, especially if you plan to include any gravel roads or a trip to the Highlands interior which requires a four wheel drive vehicle. We end up paying around £3,000 for 20 days.

The Summer weather isn’t great even by UK standards so I expected rain and around 15-20C but it could be worse: it was worse.

Iceland is obviously said to be a landscape photographer’s dream. There are glaciers, ice flows breaking up in the bay, moon-like lava fields, beaches with black, red and pink sand, geysers and hot springs, and an over-abundance of waterfalls almost everywhere.

When it comes to animals they have puffins and whales. There’s only one city, Reykjavik, but I was hoping for some wonderful modern architecture combined with some more traditional buildings.

It’s also worth remembering how expensive food can be in Iceland. A simple bowl of soup for lunch (or sandwiches) with tap water to drink, ends up costing around £15 per head. A rather unimpressive pizza would cost around £30 in a pizzeria in Akureyri. Whenever we sat down in a cafe (we decided restaurants were just too much) we spent at least £100.

So around half of the accommodation is self-catering. A quick look through receipts suggests a block of cheddar would cost £7, a loaf of bread £3 etc – so also not cheap.

At this stage of totting up the extraordinary costs, I realised that cheaper shortfall flights (around £1,000 for four of us) were not going to offset enough of the living costs – it’s an expensive trip with car hire and hotel bills adding up to around £12,000 for four people. for three weeks. Cut it down to two weeks and you’re looking at around £9,000. To cut it down even further, you could use airbnb accommodation throughout, or even hostels.

Food is taxed quite heavily in Iceland, plus it starts expensive because much of it has to be imported whilst for home grown or made food, labour costs are typically high making production costs high.

So the itinerary ended up looking something like this in my head, amended with strike throughs and italics for what actually happened:

  • Arrive Reykavik:  Reykavik Residences £1,600: 2nights, self catering arriving late so really only 1 full day
    • Whale Watching Didn’t happen on a rainy blustery day
    • Modern architecture, cathedral & Harpa Concert Hall & Civic Centre, Old Harbour, basically an excuse to mooch about;
  • Transfer to Hotel Egilsen, Snaefellsnes PeninsulaWest Iceland £1,000: 2 nights bed and breakfast;
    • On the way there are some landscape sights to see views of  Vogelmir etc.
    • Saxholl Crator, Gerduberg Basalt Columns (Snaefellsjokull National Park) Stykkisholmir Harbour (ferry)
  • Transfer to Hotel Latrabjarg £1,400 bed, breakfast and supper: Westfjords by ferry and car: 3 nights
    • Puffins on the Latrabjarg Cliffs, the most westerly point of Europe. Raudasandyr beach for a walk and seal hunt.
    •  Dynjandi waterfall
  • Transfer to Akureyi Apartment, for a full day (7 hour) drive: 3 nights, £550 self catering:
    • Whale watching from Husavik Akureyri, which basically has a family of three humpbacks living in its huge fjord £250 (3 people).
    • Dettifoss  – just had enough of gravel roads by this stage so Dettifoss was out but Goðafoss Waterfall was in, on the route through to the Eastfjords..
    • Lava castles at Myvatn
    • Trollskagi drive & views
  • Transfer to Fosshotel, Eastfjords £1,300 3 nights bed and breakfast;
    • Puffins at Borgarfjorddur – just too long a drive on gravel tracks, so abandoned this in favour of a smaller route closer to home
    • Seydisfjordur – which turned out to be a very pretty town on a sunny day.
  • Transfer to Fosshotel Glacier, South East Iceland £1,100 2 nights, bed ad breakfast;
    • Stopping at Hofn for lunch –  note that food in Iceland is not one of its selling points but soup and bread for lunch became a mainstay of our trip.
    • Jokulsarlon lagoon & glaciers, Fjallsorlan
    • Lakagigar Laki Visitor trail
    • Fagrifoss waterfall
  • Transfer to Hotel Skogar, South Iceland: 2 nights self catering £1,000;
    • Vik beach & puffins
    • Skogarfoss, Seljalandsfoss – no gravel roads, but after this number of days, who needed another waterfall.
  • Transfer to Hotel Stracta, South West iceland £1,300 : 3 nights bed and breakfast ;
    • Gullfoss, Geysir & other bits and pieces within distance of Reykavik including possibly the Blue Lagoon –  by this stage of the holiday, we’re all basically retreating into our wifi and trying to do as little as possible.
    • Brief trip into highlands Kjolur Route – just not going to happen at the end of the holiday 
    • Anything left over from the initial day in Reykavik e.g. Arbaer Open Air Museum which turned out to be a perfect, very undemanding visit, just right for the last day.
  • Transfer to Reykavik Airport and fly home.

And quite a few of the people who have been to Iceland and loved it, still add up the number of days and shake their heads at three weeks worth of holiday there. I just can’t see how to cut it down further without skimping on something.

Picnic

After a tennis match, the Home team provides a meal for the 12 people who have played. Since our club is tiny and comes without a kitchen, we all take some food along and essentially have a picnic afterwards.

So looking forward to the next match, I’m thinking that we’ll have something along the following:

  • Puff Pastry Tart – essentially an assemble job with tomato sauce, pesto and antipasti leftover from the weekend
  • Potato and leek frittata – basically the stuff you find at the bottom of your fridge and cupboards
  • Green salad (probably Nigel Slaters, fennel salad with parmesan dressing)
  • Tabbouleh, though maybe using quinoa rather than cracked wheat because I’ve got some cooked lying around in the fridge.

And someone will bring along either bread and butter, a fruit salad or pre-prepared desert like tiramisu, whilst another will bring wine and beer to the party.

& even though it’s all very simple and easy to make it will taste brilliant after three hours playing tennis.

Today

Wake up and reach for the coffee.

Deal with the dead (almost mummified) mouse corpse behind the fireplace. So much for the cat sitter not finding any rodents.

Discover the very lively mouse cowering at the back of the grate, and with the help of two out of three cats, corner it and trap it in a glass. It looks like we’re back to the days of our mouse “catch and release” programme.

Have a couple of conversations with the neighbours whilst re-locating the mouse including the guys with the bruiser who terrorises my babies. Managed to keep it civil. His fat cat has been put on a diet, which might explain some of it’s grumpy menace.

Elsewhere agreed to visit my very elderly next-door neighbour to ostensibly to chat about her garden, but basically to schedule some time to chat see how she’s getting on. Wondering vaguely whether there will be people around to take an interest in us when we’re in our 90s or whether it will even be considered normal or acceptable to show an interest in your elderly neighbours. Obviously I am also hugely interested in her lovely garden as well, not least because it’s always great to crib ideas.

Lunch.

Had a tennis lesson and got things together for tonight’s mini-tournament of mixed doubles.

Looked through the garden now that the weather has broken to a more manageable 25C to determine what has survived and what has not. There are lots of gaps up on the gravel roof after 6 weeks of no rain and 30C and some surprising survivals. One of the perennial wallflowers has died but there’s another in a pot to replace it. All of the roses and iris have survived (some judicious watering while we were away).

Engaged in a few political conversations on-line to absolutely no obvious effect, but at least I’ve tried. I find the current political climate entirely without rhyme or reason.

Sorted through some more of the photos from Iceland – still difficult to believe that it was so grey and gloomy – and finding it odd that it’s such a difficult country to photograph well. Maybe the landscapes are just too big to capture easily.  Certainly the details are much more easily captured with endless decent pictures of cute puffins.

& now I’m off to taxi the kids around. Surely by now they should be driving themselves, even in London?

Reykjavik

All cities are sad in the rain, but perhaps none more so than Reykavik.

Reykjavik Street Scene
Reykjavik LGBT Club
Reykjavik Street Scene

I was expecting some bright and modern architecture which was strangely lacking apart from two stand out buildings: the cathedral and the Hella Concert Hall down by the harbour.

The cathedral is almost Lutheran in its severity, built from what appears to be concrete.

Reykavik cathedral

The interior is incredibly plain and simple, though with glorious height.

Cathedral Interior
Altar

The details are incredibly sharp and austere.

Side Arches

Ceiling detail

It also has the most gloriously over the top organ pipes and down to earth organ keys.

Organ detail
organ Pipes Detail
Organ from below

And down by the waters the concert hall certainly looks sharp, but with no sun to lift it, also a bit dour, maybe even dowdy.

Hella Concert Centre
Hella Concert Centre detail

And all set against slate grey waters.

Reykjavik harbour

Oh dear!

Stockpile versus Hoarding

So my country has gone from madness to political madness and now people are seriously talking about the need to stockpile food in the event we bomb out of the EU onto WTO only rules. The UK produces just 60% of its own food. It is curiously unprepared for obligatory self-sufficiency, or even the kind of delays that a sudden change in customs might require for a just-in-time supply chain for supermarkets.

Living in relatively wealthy London will either be a decisive advantage or disadvantage. We have a lot of people living in close proximity to each other, which means more people fighting over the final few tomatoes in the shop, but it also means that the first place people will bring their goods to sell will be well-to-do London, where people can afford the higher prices and the stuff can be sold quickly and easily.

What sort of stockpile of food might we put together?

Sweden’s government delivered leaflets to 4.8m Swedish households, inviting them to consider how they could best cope in a situation of “major strain … in which society’s normal services are not working as they usually do”. The government had in mind all kinds of crises – natural disasters, terrorism, cyber attacks, all-out war – but the basic survival strategy for all of them was the food hoard.

The leaflet recommended that every home lay down a stock of non-perishables:

  • specifically breadstuffs with a long shelf-life (the leaflet mentioned tortillas and crackers),
  • dried lentils and beans,
  • tinned hummus and sardines,
  • ravioli,
  • rice,
  • instant mashed potato,
  • energy bars

Switzerland has long had a similar sense of foreboding: legislation passed in the cold war still demands that every citizen has access to a nuclear shelter. But the list of recommended foods to be kept in the larder (or bunker) in case the worst happens is, as one would expect of Switzerland, more thorough. “Tick the items you need on the following list … and ensure that you always have them in stock” is the advice of the Swiss civil defence authorities. The list begins with

  • nine litres of water per person (for an emergency lasting three or four days)
  • pepper and salt,
  • dry sausage,
  • dried fruit and pulses,
  • tinned meat and fish,
  • hard cheese,
  • pet food and
  • condensed milk, chocolate, sugar, jam, honey and crispbread.

And I don’t seriously believe that the water supply would be threatened so I’ll not be building up a stock of water bottles, but I am considering some of the rest. I’m also considering stockpiling some alcohol to get us through the first few months of readjustment to this brave new world. My list looks something like this:

  • wine, beer, cider
  • breadstuffs with a long life, crackers, crispbread and pastry snacks
  • lentils and beans, whether dried, tinned or packaged ready-to-eat
  • dried pasta
  • olive oil
  • rice, especially carnaroli/arborio
  • spices, ketchup, long life bottled/canned chilli sauce, garlic puree, ginger puree, tomato puree,
  • dark chocolate
  • dried pet food

And all of this fades into total insignificance compared to the risks to the medical supply chain into the UK.

No insulin is made in the UK: it can’t be by March.  So a no deal Brexit threatens our insulin supply according to medicines regulator Sir Michael Rawlings.

What are the government going to do to prevent type-1 diabetics dying ?

Radish Salad

A recipe for when you buy mooli, a large radish, and then forget why OR having any number of bags of radish at the bottom of the fridge or fresh picked from the garden. Peppery radishes bring freshness to a herb and sumac salad
Anna Jones’s radish, sumac and fresh herb salad.

Radishes are at their best now. They are, of course,perfectly fine when simply salted and dipped in butter, but they can also carry a salad with a bit of bite.

Radish, sumac and herb salad (pictured above)

You can use a mandoline or food processor to speed up the radish chopping. A mixture of honey and balsamic vinegar will stand in for the pomegranate molasses if you can’t get hold of it.

Prep 15 min
Serves 4-6

500g radishes either standard or include some mooli
A few ice cubes
1-2 large oranges (optional)

3 tbsp pomegranate molasses
1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 small clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped
2 tsp sumac
Salt and black pepper
1-2 springs mint, leaves picked and roughly chopped
1 small bunch parsley, leaves picked and roughly chopped

Cut the radishes from their tops and wash both well, picking out any wilting or yellow leaves. Slice the radishes finely, with a mandoline if you have one, and put in a bowl of cold water with the ice, so that they crisp up.

Roughly chop about half the radish tops, keeping the others in the fridge to use another day.

In a small bowl, mix the pomegranate molasses with the oil, garlic and sumac, and add a good pinch of salt and pepper.

When you are ready to eat, drain the radishes and pat dry, then put in a large bowl with the chopped radish tops and herbs. Pour over the dressing and toss, seasoning to taste with salt and pomegranate molasses. Serve immediately.