Albert J. Clack's Blog, page 2
July 14, 2015
Bernard Shaw's verdict on corporate predators are as true as when he wrote Heartbreak House
I have twice played the role of The Burglar in Bernard Shaw’s play ‘Heartbreak House’. The first time was at Pentameters Theatre, Hampstead, in 2009, and the second was in the grounds of the great man’s house in Hertfordshire, Shaw’s Corner, in 2014.
It is a remarkable play in many respects, but in this brief essay I refer in particular to one speech, by a character called Alfred ‘Boss’ Mangan. This archetypal ‘bloated capitalist’ (Shaw’s own description) is as relevant today as when the play was first performed nearly a century ago.
Mangan confesses to his intended bride (young enough to be his granddaughter) that he ruthlessly destroyed her father’s small business so that his own huge company could acquire it for little or nothing and subsequently stitch it back together and reap the profits.
His methods sound very similar to those still used today in our globalised world by multinational corporations to first asphyxiate, then gobble up, small and medium enterprises, regardless of the cost in jobs and livelihoods. Mangan says:
“Your father’s business was a new business; and I don’t start new businesses: I let other fellows start them. They put all their money and their friends’ money into starting them. They wear out their souls and bodies trying to make a success of them. They’re what you call enthusiasts.
“But the first dead lift of the thing is too much for them; and they haven’t enough financial experience. In a year or so they have either to let the whole show go bust, or sell out to a new lot of fellows for a few deferred ordinary shares: that is, if they’re lucky enough to get anything at all.
“I saw that he had a sound idea, and that he would work himself silly for it if he got the chance. I saw that he was a child in business, and was dead certain to outrun his expenses and be in too great a hurry to wait for his market. Your father and the friends that ventured their money with him were no more to me than a heap of squeezed lemons.”
Squeezed lemons, indeed. How many people a century later, having given the best years of their lives, working 16 hours a day, seven days a week, for years and years, to build their dreams into a reality, suffer that same fate at the hands of global conglomerates? As usual, Shaw hit the nail squarely on the head.
It is a remarkable play in many respects, but in this brief essay I refer in particular to one speech, by a character called Alfred ‘Boss’ Mangan. This archetypal ‘bloated capitalist’ (Shaw’s own description) is as relevant today as when the play was first performed nearly a century ago.
Mangan confesses to his intended bride (young enough to be his granddaughter) that he ruthlessly destroyed her father’s small business so that his own huge company could acquire it for little or nothing and subsequently stitch it back together and reap the profits.
His methods sound very similar to those still used today in our globalised world by multinational corporations to first asphyxiate, then gobble up, small and medium enterprises, regardless of the cost in jobs and livelihoods. Mangan says:
“Your father’s business was a new business; and I don’t start new businesses: I let other fellows start them. They put all their money and their friends’ money into starting them. They wear out their souls and bodies trying to make a success of them. They’re what you call enthusiasts.
“But the first dead lift of the thing is too much for them; and they haven’t enough financial experience. In a year or so they have either to let the whole show go bust, or sell out to a new lot of fellows for a few deferred ordinary shares: that is, if they’re lucky enough to get anything at all.
“I saw that he had a sound idea, and that he would work himself silly for it if he got the chance. I saw that he was a child in business, and was dead certain to outrun his expenses and be in too great a hurry to wait for his market. Your father and the friends that ventured their money with him were no more to me than a heap of squeezed lemons.”
Squeezed lemons, indeed. How many people a century later, having given the best years of their lives, working 16 hours a day, seven days a week, for years and years, to build their dreams into a reality, suffer that same fate at the hands of global conglomerates? As usual, Shaw hit the nail squarely on the head.
A Brazilian Lady Lost in a Small Town in England
Well, that was unusual for the small, sleepy town where I live! Returning on foot from the town centre at about 3pm, a middle-aged lady asked me something in a language I didn't at first identify. It became clear after a while that she was lost and Brazilian.
After a struggle using bits of Spanish (which I speak and she didn't) and bits of Portuguese (which she spoke and I don't), it transpired that she is in England visiting her daughter who is married to an Englishman, had gone out on her own, and become disorientated.
She then handed me a paper with her son-on-law's name, phone number and address. I phoned and got voicemail. The address was in exactly the opposite direction to the way she had been walking, on the outskirts.
So I walked her around the corner to our house and drove her home in my car. There was nobody there, and she had no key. Phoned son-in-law again, this time he answered. He was driving around in HIS car, looking for her - nowhere near where I had found her! I waited a few minutes for him to arrive, along with the two grandchildren, and the family was reintegrated. Such an adventure!
After a struggle using bits of Spanish (which I speak and she didn't) and bits of Portuguese (which she spoke and I don't), it transpired that she is in England visiting her daughter who is married to an Englishman, had gone out on her own, and become disorientated.
She then handed me a paper with her son-on-law's name, phone number and address. I phoned and got voicemail. The address was in exactly the opposite direction to the way she had been walking, on the outskirts.
So I walked her around the corner to our house and drove her home in my car. There was nobody there, and she had no key. Phoned son-in-law again, this time he answered. He was driving around in HIS car, looking for her - nowhere near where I had found her! I waited a few minutes for him to arrive, along with the two grandchildren, and the family was reintegrated. Such an adventure!
March 9, 2015
The TV remake of Poldark is an excellent swashbuckle
Call me old-fashioned if you wish, but, having missed the original series in the 1970s by living abroad, I really enjoyed Episode 1 of the rebooted Poldark on BBC1 last night.
It was excellent, swashbuckling, sentimental stuff, with the late, great Warren Clarke as an aged villain worthy of a Dickens novel, and a handsome hero played by Aidan Turner, who could always, one feels, find further acting work as Heathcliff in remakes of Wuthering Heights.
My one grumble is the inch-thick modern make-up on glamour-puss Elizabeth; and one suspects that miraculous ugly ducking Demelza (what a brilliant name! Hope it catches on) will soon receive the same treatment, having already scrubbed up very nicely (Ooh, Miss Jones!). I assume this is done for the American market; which is odd, considering the appalling state of the servants’ teeth.
Some aspects strained credibility; in particular the fight with Demelza’s lumpenproletarian (or whatever they called it in 1780) brothers, in which a single toff, having received a heck of a kicking from three massive thugs, emerged nonetheless victorious and virtually unscathed. Personally, I would have whacked that girl-beating scumbag over the head with the candlestick while his back was turned. Job done – who’s next, then? But then, if you’re seeking verisimilitude, don’t watch a fantasy romp!
I’m not always part of the fiercely contested Sunday 9pm TV audience – but I certainly plan to be back on the sofa with a cat on my lap at that time next week.
It was excellent, swashbuckling, sentimental stuff, with the late, great Warren Clarke as an aged villain worthy of a Dickens novel, and a handsome hero played by Aidan Turner, who could always, one feels, find further acting work as Heathcliff in remakes of Wuthering Heights.
My one grumble is the inch-thick modern make-up on glamour-puss Elizabeth; and one suspects that miraculous ugly ducking Demelza (what a brilliant name! Hope it catches on) will soon receive the same treatment, having already scrubbed up very nicely (Ooh, Miss Jones!). I assume this is done for the American market; which is odd, considering the appalling state of the servants’ teeth.
Some aspects strained credibility; in particular the fight with Demelza’s lumpenproletarian (or whatever they called it in 1780) brothers, in which a single toff, having received a heck of a kicking from three massive thugs, emerged nonetheless victorious and virtually unscathed. Personally, I would have whacked that girl-beating scumbag over the head with the candlestick while his back was turned. Job done – who’s next, then? But then, if you’re seeking verisimilitude, don’t watch a fantasy romp!
I’m not always part of the fiercely contested Sunday 9pm TV audience – but I certainly plan to be back on the sofa with a cat on my lap at that time next week.
February 21, 2015
Tips on how to combat dognapping
(Dognapping is a sub-plot in my novel ‘Murder at the Theatre Royal’)
Dognapping is on the rise in the UK. A leading dog theft charity, DogLost, says reported cases soared by nearly a fifth in 2013 to around 11,000. For the pets’ owners it’s a tragedy. For the heartless criminals involved, it’s a lucrative trade in misery.
Dog theft is not trivial; it is the work of organised gangs. Stolen dogs can fetch more than £2,000. Part of the reason for the illegal trade in pedigree dogs is that the price of buying some breeds from traditional breeders has have risen so high.
The thefts take place in various ways. Dogs can be stolen from kennels and outhouses, taken as they are being walked by their owners, sometimes with violence, and are grabbed from inside houses in burglaries. Some of the animals are stolen to order and others are sold over the internet to buyers in other parts of Britain.
There is no regulation of who can sell a dog over the internet. Criminals create numerous accounts through which they attempt to sell stolen dogs. Some of these accounts are also used to sell other items, so that on the face of it the seller appears to have a long history and a good online reputation.
The most popular targets for the gangs are trained working dogs, such as labradors, although other popular types such as chihuahuas and pugs also figure highly. Recently, the biggest rise has been in thefts of cocker spaniels, following an increase in their popularity after the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge adopted a puppy.
When selling a dog, one of the techniques of criminals is to give a sob story as a reason for selling their so-called beloved family pet. They also attempt to deceive the buyer into thinking they will only sell the dog to a loving and caring person. You then spend all your time proving you are that type of buyer as opposed to establishing that they are that type of seller.
If you insist on buying a dog over the internet, here are some tips on how to avoid buying a stolen dog. Visit the dog at the seller’s home and see how the dog relates to the seller. Ask to see photographs of the dog with the owner or family.
Enquire about the dog’s history with the family, and ask to see paperwork relating to the dog itself, such as vet’s bills, insurance, microchipping, and kennel club certificates. Ask whether it is neutered (spayed or castrated) and cross-check this with the vet’s bills.
Get the seller to agree to the sale subject to a vet’s examination, to include a microchip scan. A thief will not want you to take a photograph of them in possession of a stolen dog. So ask to take a photograph of them with the dog you are buying. If they refuse – walk out.
Dognapping is on the rise in the UK. A leading dog theft charity, DogLost, says reported cases soared by nearly a fifth in 2013 to around 11,000. For the pets’ owners it’s a tragedy. For the heartless criminals involved, it’s a lucrative trade in misery.
Dog theft is not trivial; it is the work of organised gangs. Stolen dogs can fetch more than £2,000. Part of the reason for the illegal trade in pedigree dogs is that the price of buying some breeds from traditional breeders has have risen so high.
The thefts take place in various ways. Dogs can be stolen from kennels and outhouses, taken as they are being walked by their owners, sometimes with violence, and are grabbed from inside houses in burglaries. Some of the animals are stolen to order and others are sold over the internet to buyers in other parts of Britain.
There is no regulation of who can sell a dog over the internet. Criminals create numerous accounts through which they attempt to sell stolen dogs. Some of these accounts are also used to sell other items, so that on the face of it the seller appears to have a long history and a good online reputation.
The most popular targets for the gangs are trained working dogs, such as labradors, although other popular types such as chihuahuas and pugs also figure highly. Recently, the biggest rise has been in thefts of cocker spaniels, following an increase in their popularity after the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge adopted a puppy.
When selling a dog, one of the techniques of criminals is to give a sob story as a reason for selling their so-called beloved family pet. They also attempt to deceive the buyer into thinking they will only sell the dog to a loving and caring person. You then spend all your time proving you are that type of buyer as opposed to establishing that they are that type of seller.
If you insist on buying a dog over the internet, here are some tips on how to avoid buying a stolen dog. Visit the dog at the seller’s home and see how the dog relates to the seller. Ask to see photographs of the dog with the owner or family.
Enquire about the dog’s history with the family, and ask to see paperwork relating to the dog itself, such as vet’s bills, insurance, microchipping, and kennel club certificates. Ask whether it is neutered (spayed or castrated) and cross-check this with the vet’s bills.
Get the seller to agree to the sale subject to a vet’s examination, to include a microchip scan. A thief will not want you to take a photograph of them in possession of a stolen dog. So ask to take a photograph of them with the dog you are buying. If they refuse – walk out.
January 28, 2015
Now Available - Murder at the Theatre Royal
I have just published my first crime novel, 'Murder at the Theatre Royal - An Inspector Warren Mystery', introducing DI Keith Warren, DS Philippa Myers & DC Marion Everitt. Here's a brief description:
Half-way through the matinee at the Theatre Royal, North London, the audience gasp in horror when Hamlet drags the corpse of Polonius on to the stage from behind a curtain.
For the head of the famous 76-year-old actor playing Polonius, Sir Roger Nutley, is lolling at a bizarre angle that can only mean he has REALLY been killed.
Murder at the Theatre Royal
The touring production had been a sensational comeback for Sir Roger, two years after a high-profile court case in which the jury failed to convict him of sex crimes in the 1960s.
Is his murder connected to the trial? Detective Chief Inspector Keith Warren and Detective Sergeant Philippa Myers soon learn that the superstar's life had other secret, dark sides.
Meanwhile, an outbreak of kidnappings of valuable dogs gives rookie Detective Constable Marion Everitt a chance to prove herself against a gang of heartless thugs.
Resources at Norton Hill nick are also stretched by armed robberies of designer handbags worth hundreds of thousands of pounds from exclusive boutiques.
Half-way through the matinee at the Theatre Royal, North London, the audience gasp in horror when Hamlet drags the corpse of Polonius on to the stage from behind a curtain.
For the head of the famous 76-year-old actor playing Polonius, Sir Roger Nutley, is lolling at a bizarre angle that can only mean he has REALLY been killed.
Murder at the Theatre Royal
The touring production had been a sensational comeback for Sir Roger, two years after a high-profile court case in which the jury failed to convict him of sex crimes in the 1960s.
Is his murder connected to the trial? Detective Chief Inspector Keith Warren and Detective Sergeant Philippa Myers soon learn that the superstar's life had other secret, dark sides.
Meanwhile, an outbreak of kidnappings of valuable dogs gives rookie Detective Constable Marion Everitt a chance to prove herself against a gang of heartless thugs.
Resources at Norton Hill nick are also stretched by armed robberies of designer handbags worth hundreds of thousands of pounds from exclusive boutiques.
