Posts Tagged ‘thinking’

As I mentioned yesterday, I’m at Thought Bubble comic con for the weekend, so a shorter than preferred post today.

Something’s been running through what I laughingly refer to as my brain since yesterday afternoon, when I saw some comics on sale that seemed… off, somehow.

I’m not about to name/embarrass either the comic nor the creator but it took me a moment to realise what was ‘wrong’, to my mind anyway. That it took so long is probably a mark of how long I’ve been absent from cons.

The self-produced, A5 comic, about… well, no, I’m not about to identify that either.

But what struck me after a couple of pages was that I could see what the creator was trying to do, I think, but… the comic was about a dozen and a half pages. There were maybe 60 or 70 panels in total. And every panel was great, as a spot illustration; I could tell, in every panel what was happening in the panel, and what the writer/artist wanted to convey. Again, I think.

What it took a moment to identify was that there was no actual design sense to any page that I could see. The panels worked as spot illustrations but there was no context identified for each panel to its predessesor nor its successor.

There were, as I say, maybe 70 panels. But they were 70 individual illustrations, attempting to tell a story, but with no actual storytelling occuring.

And it took until this morning when I woke to remember that I’d encountered this before; not the lack of story telling per se but the

something’s wrong but it takes a second or two to realise what…‘,

and particularly the feeling in that precise moment.

Someone I know once referred to it as ‘the unreka moment’, the opposite to the “eureka moment”.

Anyone, in any job, knows the “eureka moment”; it’s that split second when due to your professional expertise, or your knowledge and experience in your chosen job, combined with the right circumstances at the right moment…

… something ‘clicks’: you solve a problem, you see where the error is, you come up with a solution that’s been bugging you and/or your colleagues.

(Picture House, MD or Columbo having a Eureka moment, and you know what I mean, right?)

It’s not luck, although luck sometimes plays a part. Arnold Palmer’s trite comment of “the more I practice, the luckier I get” is usually quoted at this point, so… yeah. (I think Palmer’s quote is daft by the way, but that’s besides the point.)

But the eureka moment: when it happens, it feels great, and back in the day, when I was staring at a spreadsheet and suddenly I saw it, or researching tax law for a relief or allowance from which my client could benefit, or even when the penny dropped and I saw a way I could explain something to train a junior memebr of staff so they’d get it, so that they’d understand.

The Eureka Moment.

So what’s the opposite?

And yes, my friend may call it the unreka moment, but it’s what I call the “naah moment“, which I’d define as that exact moment when you look at something and know that it’s not right, but for a second (or even longer) you don’t know why it’s not right.

It’s an accountant looking at a balance sheet and saying “Naah“, knowing beyond peradventure that something’s just not quite right about it.

It’s an artist looking at an image and seeing something wrong, but it takes a moment to see why.

It’s a writer, reading a piece of prose, saying it out loud, and just knowing that there’s a better way of putting it, but not immediately being able to reword it.

The “naah moment“.

But now what I’m thinking about, as I type this moments before walking into the con today, what’s really making me think is that all three of the above might involve different parts of the ‘thinking’ process.

And if it is true that different parts of the brain deal with different appreciations: the parts of the brain that deal with vision are different from those that process hearing, then does the “naah moment” originate in different parts of the brain depending upon who’s thinkin’ it?

Hmm – something to ponder.


See you tomorrow, with… something else.



Sixty-one days. Sixty-one posts. One 2022 slowly approaching.

I’ve signed up to, so if you fancy throwing me a couple of quid every so often, to keep me in a caffeine-fuelled typing mood, feel free. I’m on

This post is part of a series of blog entries, counting down to the new year. You can see the other posts in the run by clicking here.

No-one in the UK could have been unaware yesterday that there was a public sector strike. Or to be precise, there was a day of action called by several trade unions, and about two million people (give or take, according to which source you favour) took action, refused to work, marched, protested and otherwise signified their displeasure with the policies of the current coalition government, specifically about pensions.

Most of my friends supported the strikes, a couple of them didn’t. I have been far more fascinated with the actions and reactions of those striking, and those who haven’t, than I have in the arguments themselves.

For a start, while it is undoubtedly the duty and responsibility of the official opposition to, well, to oppose the policies of the government, and to hold them to account, I’m not entirely sure they’re actually doing it, or achieving much when they do.

Prime Minister”s Questions yesterday was the usual mixture of fun and fiasco, of timidity and stupidity. But for the first time, I saw David Cameron completely on the back foot when answering questions from Ed Miliband, the Leader of The Opposition. I’m not sure why – Miliband was no more aggressive than usual – people who voted for him must be terribly disappointed in his attacks which usually amount to no more annoying than an eager puppy yelping around your feet.

However, it seemed to me that Cameron was simply unsure of his brief, unconvinced of his arguments, a feeling which intensified once he moved on to dealing with other matters, when he was sure of his footing, confident and assured.

What was very noticeable about yesterday’s main bout was the personal aspect that’s been lacking for some years – you started to get the feeling that these two men do not like each other.

And while it certainly added to the entertainment value, it was indicative of how so often in political debate/discussion/argument, one or more parties will conflate the person with the policy.

One can make a racist statement without being racist. One can say something staggeringly stupid without being inherently stupid. And one can suggest policies without having the motive of deliberately wishing ill on those harmed as a consequence of that policy.

Attacking the argument not the person is a good thing, I think.

My experience with trade unions is, for the most part, an indirect one. Only on rare occasions have I dealt with a trade union directly, and the most memorable (from 25+ years ago) still rankles. That said, I would be foolish to deny the benefits that unions have brought to their members and every person working today, whether it’s health and safety, the rules against unfair dismissal, or any one of a hundred other things that have improved the working person’s life.

So when they do something stupid, I don’t call them stupid. I call their actions stupid.

One stupid thing they’ve done – in my opinion, at least – is to mistake noise for support, to mistake protest for policy.

I understand that there are multiple pension deals around the public sector and that the policies suggested by the government will harm all of them. However, I’ve searched in vain for where the unions set out what they want. Plenty of complaints about what the government is doing and why it’s unfair, but no suggestions as to what would be fair.

Well, no suggestions other than that made on last night’s Moral Maze, by Sarah Veale of the TUC who said the should be no change at all, that if the country couldn’t afford public sector pensions, tax everyone until it could…

So, the strike – supported by some, attacked by others. Both sides putting forward arguments that the other side simply doesn’t get it.

One other argument put forward by some on the right is that since the union strike votes received low turnouts in some cases, they were somehow less valid. Utter nonsense.

Utter, total, complete, nonsense.

But not for the reasons many suppose.

The main case against the “low vote” argument seems to be “well, how many people voted for the coalition?”

This, in my view, fundamentally misunderstands two, completely different, votes. An election and a resolution couldn’t be more different, either in process, organisation, or result.

How someone is elected and how resolutions are voted for are never the same.

You don’t tend to get alternative voting in resolutions, simply because it’s usually a choice between yes and no, between aye and nay.

So if Tory MPs want to say that unions should have a minimum turnout for votes for resolutions, then they would presumably accept the same in Parliament.

And, to my astonishment, they do.

There is a quorum for votes in the chamber of the House of Commons. There is – I checked.

You want to know what this quorum is, how many MPs are required in the Chamber for national legislation to be passed? Given the Tory MPs anger and passion about this, you’d expect it to be a sizeable number or percentage, yes?

It’s 40.

40 MPs in the chamber, and a vote can take place.


Out of 650.

I’ll save you the maths. It’s a little over 6%.

So, with 6% of MPs in favour of a motion, it can pass, yes?

Well, no, that would be stupid, wouldn’t it? That would mean that all 40 voted in favour.

No, the number in favour only needs to be 50% plus 1 of those attending, I.e. 21

Or a little over 3%. To pass national legislation.

Tory MPs? Shut the fuck up about trade unions requiring minimum votes for strike votes, eh?

And, while we’re on the subject of shutting the fuck up… Jeremy Clarkson.

No, not that he should shut up (although, I think we could all do with a period of silence from that quarter) but even ignoring the person who accurately tweeted “Complaining that Clarkson has made an outrageous comment is like complaining the wheel has fallen off your clown’s car”, the rank hypocrisy of those criticising Clarkson has astonished me.

Ok, for those who don’t know, Clarkson – in a tv interview promoting his latest DVD – said, in mock frustration, that striking workers should be shot.

Cue an apology from the BBC (though I’m not sure why) and Twitter and Facebook erupt, and a trade union threatens legal action.

This is the same trade union whose sponsored MP joked about the assassination of Maggie Thatcher, and didn’t have a problem with the joke. It would be interesting to have the time and resources to see how many others are only prepared to support freedom of speech only when it suits them.

And it’s not just the ‘left’ I criticise here. Louise Mensch MP called for the BBC to not recommission a Scottish comedian after he said he’d be celebrating when Thatcher dies. Let her similarly excoriate Clarkson, or admit that she’s a hypocrite.

And, finally, on the subject of hypocrisy, let me have a pop at my generation, the forty-somethings who are mostly settled down, with families and who are more concerned with mortgages than marches, payslips than protest.

The early and mid-1980s were a time of protest for students – biggest marches and protests in a generation, attacks by the then Tory government on education and student housing, attacks on the then-existing student grant.

Those students, including me, are now in their late-40s, and I’ve seen so many of them criticising the students. Not for how they protest (fair enough, I’ve been uncomfortable at some of the violence), not for what they’re protesting about (again, different generations always think they invented protest), but merely for protesting.

How dare they? How dare we?

This post was going to say something profound at some point. But now, having written it, I think it comes down to something very simple. Not profound, but simple.

Don’t indulge yourself in lazy thinking, hypocrisy or intolerance.

We need sensible debate in this country, where ad hominem isn’t the first resort, nor the last, but is replaced by structured, evidence based, argument.

Well, it’s worth a try, isn’t it?