In the Big City

You need to do a minimum of three court observations before they let you loose on a court as a new magistrate. As my day-job didn't need me yesterday, I went to the nearest big city to see what Justice looked like over there.

The Magistrate Court in that city is new and immense with 17 active courtrooms on the day I visited. This contrasts sharply with the 2 courts I'm used to.

The lady in charge of the rota of 450 magistrates met me once I'd cleared security and took me into the Magistrates' common room. Here were 50+ of her charges drinking coffee, reading newspapers and having animated discussions. I decided I'd like to see an actual trial, so she found a suitable courtroom and introduced me to the chairman who was delighted to allow me to observe, although he did insist on teasing me about the number of "poultry rustling" trials I'd have to sit through in my country courtroom.

As it turned out I can't think of many differences between the procedure or workload of the big city court and my court in the outer suburbs. We have after all got the same Guidelines and the same issues with alcohol, drugs and lousy driving.

I certainly envied the camaraderie of the large common room, but the many small, modern courtrooms had a bit of the feel of the multiplex cinema about them, except that the chairs disappointingly did not have drink-holders in the arms.

The observations have been useful. I've seen how things actually work rather than the way they ought to work. I've seen defendants and victims have a slanging match they definitely wouldn't have wanted the Magistrates to see. And I've seen the way three different legal advisors have banged heads together to move things along so that the Magistrates just need to show up and do their job.

I'll let you know if I ever do get a "poultry rustling" case, but for now the only poultry I'm concerned with is the one I'm going to cook with all the trimmings tomorrow. Hope you all have a Merry Christmas.

Stan xxx

Hallelujah Chorus

Yes, Clueless Stan did a huge piece on cover versions last week and totally neglected to mention the towering classic that is "Hallelujah", which is in the news again at the moment because some giddy girl from off the telly is doing it.

I liked this comment from YouTube "Cohen wrote it, Cale improved it then Buckley completed it." which is glib, rather simplistic but broadly accurate.

Leonard Cohen : "I filled two notebooks and I remember being in the Royalton Hotel [in New York], on the carpet in my underwear, banging my head on the floor and saying, 'I can't finish this song."

Cohen's superlative feat of songwriting is undeniable but unfashionably I don't rate any of his performances. Sounds too much like the record-player needs winding up to me.

He ended up writing 80 verses of the song and when John Cale asked for the lyrics, he chose 15 of those verses as being fit to fax.

John Cale : Best known for his work with Lou Reed and The Velvet Underground. If you heard the song on "Shrek" that was John Cale's version. He saw the potential in the song and fashioned a masterpiece from the sloppy clay of Cohen's original idea. Notably his selection of lyrics are a lot more sexual and a lot less biblical than Cohen's. A lot more bondage, a lot less David's horn.

Jeff Buckley : If you heard the song in "The West Wing" then that was Jeff Buckley's version. A bit like James Dean's acting, it isn't what he does, it's the way that he does it.

His approach to the song is broadly similar to Cale's, but in the last minute or so he lays down an extraordinary coda that lays waste to any stiff-under-lip you might possess. He reminds you that "it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah".

It's even more heartbreaking when you know that Jeff Buckley drowned at the age of 30 after completing only one album.

It's odd that it's men that have had all the success with the song up until now. There is no reason why it would work any less well from a woman's point of view.

But forget about Alexandra Burke's version and listen to what Allison Crowe does with the song. Her voice couldn't be more different from the stereotypical "X Factor" empty plastic R&B diva voice. Here is someone who feels the music and communicates. Simply stunning - full of real power and enormous feeling. Big, big ploppy tears on Stan's keyboard.

Musical Trivia - it's in C Major. And it's the saddest song in the world. Go figure.

I was expecting you, Mr Bond

Stanetta is suffering. Every time (possibly an exaggeration) she switches on the news, she claims it's always people moaning on about the economy. Usually Robert Peston.

Personally I enjoy financial news. I love to hear people claim to understand why something good/bad just happened and why they think something better better/worse will happen in future.

In truth, these amazing human inventions called "Markets" have grown way beyond the point where mortal man can predict the future or explain the present. Modern economists are about as credible as Aztec priests trying to explain why the volcano is rumbling.

If there is any hope of understanding, you have to look at the past, and this is where the historian Niall Ferguson's series "The Ascent of Money" comes in. I'm working my way through the series on Channel 4's On-Demand Service and have just watched the excellent second episode about the history of Bonds.

The thirty second version of this is that the first bond market started to fund wars between city-states in Tuscany in the 1360s before going on to win the battle of Waterloo, lose the American civil war, make a fortune for the Rothschilds and bankrupt Argentina.

Prof Ferguson's 48 minute version moves nearly as quickly as that - he keeps it light, draws parallels, quotes specific examples and focuses in on the people involved rather than pretending that it's abstract Forces that are important.

Unfortunately, if like Stanetta you're overloaded with financial news just now, you'll probably be disinclined to spend time watching this series.

You should - it is possibly your best chance to understand what the flip is going on.

And it's important stuff. In my opinion the following is the most important current issue confronting the UK :-

"Banks and other lenders have issued about 6.5 billion pounds ($9.9 billion) and 10 billion euros ($13.7 billion) of bonds backed by the UK government since the state offered to guarantee them two months ago"

Are you in favour ? Against ? Or don't you understand the question? Maybe you understand the individual words of question but you can't understand why it's so gosh-garned important.

Governments are doing weird stuff with your money and a bunch of other money it hasn't printed yet. I think it only proper that a generous amount of screentime is given to people like Robert Peston and Niall Ferguson to explain it. Sorry, Stanetta.

Vote Stan.

Hamster Haven

I am pleasantly baffled by girls. Especially mine.

Stanetta's school chum was talking about hamsters. The conversation rapidly spiralled in a jazz-style onto the subject of hamsters on roller-blades and then into a freestyle improv on how you can spoil hamsters rotten.

Stanetta disappeared into her room after school, booted up her laptop and slammed out in hardly any time at all this amazing advert for "Hamster Haven - A place where your hamster feels at home."

If Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus, where on earth do young girls come from?

Good work, Stanetta. Made me smile and made my jaw drop and my head spin. It'll be a sad day when you start making an ounce of sense.

Cross My Heart And Hope to Die

I was really looking forward to writing a long piece mocking the pomp and circumstance and the airs and graces of my recent swearing-in. But I'm not going to. Much.

There was plenty of potential for mockery. For example, in attendance were four High Court judges and a Lord Lieutenant with a massive ceremonial sword and a High Sheriff, all with uniforms out of "Duck Soup". I knew what the judges did for a living, but it took some serious wikipedia to work out how the other guys filled their days.

The venue was a massive contrast - a rather cramped modern lecture theatre at the University of Stanster. We were packed in so tight that it was difficult to stand when it was our turn to swear our oaths. Early on I dropped a piece of paper on the floor, but I couldn't have ducked down to get it without appearing to commit an act of gross indecency on one or both of my squashed neighbours.

Fortunately the speeches were brief and soon I was standing and swearing my non-religious version of the oath (hold the God). It was a shock to hear the archaic language come tumbling out of my mouth. I resisted a momentary mad impulse to do a comedy voice.

I sat and later I signed The Book with a disappointingly mundane black Bic biro.

And that's how you make a Magistrate.