Positive politics

I recently had to find an address for someone – I needed to send them a document for work. Their name rang a bell; all sorts of bells, actually, but it was only when I googled her name and found her website that I remembered a friend of mine had done some freelancing for the Centre for Confidence.

Browsing her blog, I read a comment that the SNP had engaged consultants in last year’s Scottish election. (Typically – and most irritating – I can’t now find the comment, despite searching high and low.)

Essentially, it said the in the run up to the election, their consultants told the SNP to focus on the positive – about everything. They had to be seen as positive no matter what.

This contrasted greatly with the campaign run by the incumbent Labour Party – as this comment on Guido’s blog points out.

Another comment on a positive psychology blog makes the same point – although this time about the negative attitude taken by the media (in this case, the Sun).

As a result, Labour looked like they were running scared throughout their campaign, because they focused on the negative aspects of an SNP victory, whilst the SNP appeared as the party of vision – and a bright, positive vision at that.

I find this very, very interesting. It seemed to tie up some loose ends – not least about the practical aspects of positive psychology; and it joined things up in a neat circle.

Positive politics

I recently had to find an address for someone – I needed to send them a document for work. Their name rang a bell; all sorts of bells, actually, but it was only when I googled her name and found her website that I remembered a friend of mine had done some freelancing for the Centre for Confidence.

Browsing her blog, I read a comment that the SNP had engaged consultants in last year’s Scottish election. (Typically – and most irritating – I can’t now find the comment, despite searching high and low.)

Essentially, it said the in the run up to the election, their consultants told the SNP to focus on the positive – about everything. They had to be seen as positive no matter what.

This contrasted greatly with the campaign run by the incumbent Labour Party – as this comment on Guido’s blog points out.

Another comment on a positive psychology blog makes the same point – although this time about the negative attitude taken by the media (in this case, the Sun).

As a result, Labour looked like they were running scared throughout their campaign, because they focused on the negative aspects of an SNP victory, whilst the SNP appeared as the party of vision – and a bright, positive vision at that.

I find this very, very interesting. It seemed to tie up some loose ends – not least about the practical aspects of positive psychology; and it joined things up in a neat circle.

Finger clickin' good

In last week’s medical column in the Guardian, Doctor Doctor, a reader asked whether it could be harmful to click one’s fingers. The questioner thought it might cause arthritis or something.

This shocked me to the core.

Harmful? To click one’s fingers? Jeez. I’m in trouble.

If you know me well, you’ll know I have a percussive bent. I beat out rhythms, and if I’m not, I’m probably thinking of a rhythm (usually, it is Gil Evans’ arrangement of St Louis Blues.

I click my fingers, I slap my thighs, I click my tongue, I click my teeth (the last probably explaining why for years I have had a dull ache in my molars).

I can actually click all my fingers – all eight of them, rolling from one hand to the other I used to be able to click my toes, but it is easier just to tap my feet – which I do a lot, too.

I click my fingers when I can’t quite grasp the words I am looking for.

I click my fingers in time to music, I click my fingers out of time, setting up opposing rhythms (especially if the music is in 3/4 or 6/8).

I have at times given myself blisters on my thumbs (though that was when I was a hyperactive student dancing through the night – because I click my fingers when I am dancing, too).

The idea that I might actually be causing myself lasting harm through percussive digits is worrying.

Although the doctor did say he thought this was absolutely nothing to worry about.

Hit it!

(And, as an aside, I am shocked at the number of videos on YouTube featuring people clicking their fingers. And there is even a page on WikiHow teaching you how to snap your fingers. Don't these people have better things to do?!)

Finger clickin' good

In last week’s medical column in the Guardian, Doctor Doctor, a reader asked whether it could be harmful to click one’s fingers. The questioner thought it might cause arthritis or something.

This shocked me to the core.

Harmful? To click one’s fingers? Jeez. I’m in trouble.

If you know me well, you’ll know I have a percussive bent. I beat out rhythms, and if I’m not, I’m probably thinking of a rhythm (usually, it is Gil Evans’ arrangement of St Louis Blues.

I click my fingers, I slap my thighs, I click my tongue, I click my teeth (the last probably explaining why for years I have had a dull ache in my molars).

I can actually click all my fingers – all eight of them, rolling from one hand to the other I used to be able to click my toes, but it is easier just to tap my feet – which I do a lot, too.

I click my fingers when I can’t quite grasp the words I am looking for.

I click my fingers in time to music, I click my fingers out of time, setting up opposing rhythms (especially if the music is in 3/4 or 6/8).

I have at times given myself blisters on my thumbs (though that was when I was a hyperactive student dancing through the night – because I click my fingers when I am dancing, too).

The idea that I might actually be causing myself lasting harm through percussive digits is worrying.

Although the doctor did say he thought this was absolutely nothing to worry about.

Hit it!

(And, as an aside, I am shocked at the number of videos on YouTube featuring people clicking their fingers. And there is even a page on WikiHow teaching you how to snap your fingers. Don't these people have better things to do?!)

Saying what they really think: Blah!

The Scottish Government has been left red-faced after it responded to a Conservative query about drug finds in prisons by saying: "Blah".

And here's what Brian Taylor, BBC Scotland's political editor, says in his blog.

Saying what they really think: Blah!

The Scottish Government has been left red-faced after it responded to a Conservative query about drug finds in prisons by saying: "Blah".

And here's what Brian Taylor, BBC Scotland's political editor, says in his blog.

Procrastination

This video by Johnny Kelly was broadcast on the Culture Show this week. I thought it was brilliant. (It was his graduation video - he's only a young guy. Painfully talented!)

Watch on YouTube

It is also available on the Culture Show website - I am not sure if the version on YouTube is wholly kosher...

Procrastination

This video by Johnny Kelly was broadcast on the Culture Show this week. I thought it was brilliant. (It was his graduation video - he's only a young guy. Painfully talented!)

Watch on YouTube

It is also available on the Culture Show website - I am not sure if the version on YouTube is wholly kosher...

(no subject)

I went walking in Glen Etive last month. I intended to climb Beinn nan Aighenan, but my new boots crippled me - I developed huge blisters on my right heel - so I gave up on that, just slowly wandering in the early summer heat. I sat for a while beside the burn, Allt Nheuran, and I thought it was rather beautiful; so I took some photographs.

(no subject)

I went walking in Glen Etive last month. I intended to climb Beinn nan Aighenan, but my new boots crippled me - I developed huge blisters on my right heel - so I gave up on that, just slowly wandering in the early summer heat. I sat for a while beside the burn, Allt Nheuran, and I thought it was rather beautiful; so I took some photographs.

Driving north...

A couple of weeks ago, I drove north. I had picked up a hire car the night before, a squat, little Chevrolet thing (I thought American’s made BIG cars. Not this one, it was tiny, like a Ka, but without the benefit of being cute).

I packed my hillwalking gear, a load of food, a bottle of whisky and a bundle of CDs, and headed north.

I knew where I was going – I know the route north very well, almost too well: I love the north west of Scotland, and for me, the north west starts at Cluanie Inn. My first stop was just east of there – I wanted to climb three hills to the north.

But this is about the drive.

I left early – half past seven or so (early for me) - and drove out of town and across the bridge. I had started off listening to the radio, but that really didn’t work.

( So I put on the CD player. )

Driving north...

A couple of weeks ago, I drove north. I had picked up a hire car the night before, a squat, little Chevrolet thing (I thought American’s made BIG cars. Not this one, it was tiny, like a Ka, but without the benefit of being cute).

I packed my hillwalking gear, a load of food, a bottle of whisky and a bundle of CDs, and headed north.

I knew where I was going – I know the route north very well, almost too well: I love the north west of Scotland, and for me, the north west starts at Cluanie Inn. My first stop was just east of there – I wanted to climb three hills to the north.

But this is about the drive.

I left early – half past seven or so (early for me) - and drove out of town and across the bridge. I had started off listening to the radio, but that really didn’t work.

( So I put on the CD player. )

Glen Shiel

I spent two days climbing in Glen Shiel. I t should have been longer, but my boots were still causing problems, and I would rather minimise the pain and damage to my feet (I am going walking again next weekend; I'll have to see how it goes).

On the Friday, I climbed Carn Ghluasaid, Sgurr nan Conbhairean and Sail Chaorainn. It was foggy, and cool.

The next day, I climbed the Five Sisters of Kintail, from east to west. I got a lift to the start with some guys who were adding on "the Three Brothers", making it a really, really long day. I climbed the bealach, looked at Saileag and decided it made no sense not to climb it, too, so I headed east and ascended the first of four munros for the day. Then I turn west, and walked back to the hotel along the high ridge.

It was a glorious day: actually, too good: it was very hot and very sunny. It made the climbing very hard work, and it was a long, long day - longer than I had expected. Perhaps I am just unfit.

Glen Shiel

I spent two days climbing in Glen Shiel. I t should have been longer, but my boots were still causing problems, and I would rather minimise the pain and damage to my feet (I am going walking again next weekend; I'll have to see how it goes).

On the Friday, I climbed Carn Ghluasaid, Sgurr nan Conbhairean and Sail Chaorainn. It was foggy, and cool.

The next day, I climbed the Five Sisters of Kintail, from east to west. I got a lift to the start with some guys who were adding on "the Three Brothers", making it a really, really long day. I climbed the bealach, looked at Saileag and decided it made no sense not to climb it, too, so I headed east and ascended the first of four munros for the day. Then I turn west, and walked back to the hotel along the high ridge.

It was a glorious day: actually, too good: it was very hot and very sunny. It made the climbing very hard work, and it was a long, long day - longer than I had expected. Perhaps I am just unfit.