yet another blog

As of Sunday 3rd (i.e., the day after tomorrow!) don’t expect much activity either on this blog or my photoblog for a few days. Well, prob’ly closer to a coupla weeks actually.
For I be off on my rambles again. This time to the Climate Camp that’s even now in process of being set up near Kingsnorth Power Station in northeast Kent.

Well, I say “in process of being set up”. That’s when they can manage to do the setting up in between bully-boy incursions by the local Gestapo… um, sorry, I meant political police. Um… no, what I actually meant was “officers of Kent’s constabulary”.

Apparently, within 24 hours or so of the site being “claimed” the local boys in blue swarmed all over the place, searching, using pepper spray, arresting, and generally being a bit intimidatory. Nothing new there then.

No doubt they saw it as payback time for when a police incursion was made at the Climate Camp last year, situated near Heathrow.
A detachment of cops marched on… and were very promptly marched off again by the assembled campers, who quite rightly objected to such arrogant tactics. A few red faces in the cop canteen that night probably.
In fact, thinking about it, the cops didn’t have a very good time of it last year. What with being unceremoniously ejected from the Camp and then, in Harmondsworth village, the lovely Chief Inspector Pendry sending a detachment of riot cops away with a flea in their ear (see this), they’ve got a lot of ground to make up.
Which is to say nothing of one cop being thrown from her horse in the “Battle of the Beanfield”.

So, this time around they have apparently managed to seize a number of items that they claim could be used to cause criminal damage, including such offensive things as kids’ crayons and a couple of board games. Wow!
And that’s to say nothing of their seizure of stuff intended to help construct the camp and make it a relatively comfortable, safe, and hygienic place for later arrivals. (Bearing in mind its not just your hardened activist that comes to Climate Camp, but also folk who simply want to find out about the issues, or learn the skills required to develop an environmentally friendly and sustainable lifestyle, and elderly people, and disabled folk, and kids… in other words, a fairly representative cross-section of society as a whole.)

This article on Indymedia has the full story.

Yet the Camp’s not toally without supporters in the Establishment. Check out this article by the parliamentarian Chris Davies published in today’s Guardian newspaper, which also gives some background to the issues that the Camp’s all about.

Of course, there’s a subtext to this recent escapade by the cops. Quite aside from any “legitimate” reason they may claim to have for such heavy-handed policing, one can’t help but wonder whether part of their ploy is not just to “assert their authority” but also to deter others from coming to the Camp.
That motivation (i.e., the suppression of political dissent and activism) quite clearly has a large part to play in their deployment of FIT officers at “political” events, so its reasonable to suppose that such motivation may well have informed this recent “raid”.

So when are they gonna wake up and realise that if anything it just makes the committed activist even more determined to act, as much in protest against the repression as against the issue at hand.

And talking of FIT, fitwatch have today circulated a callout for fitwatchers to come to the Camp. I quote:

“please forward x

Celebrate Fitwatch’s 1st Birthday at Climate Camp

This year’s Climate Camp will also celebrate Fitwatch’s first outing to a major protest. Since then we have gone from strength to strength.
Use Fitwatch tactics all week, and join us to celebrate our anniversary on the day of mass action (9th August). Together we can render the FIT ineffective, and you too can experience the pleasure of forcing a cameraman to retreat.

During the year, we have received criticism on our blog for being “professional protesters”. However, we agree. We take protest seriously. We want to be effective, and to do this we need reclaim our anonymity.
Fitwatch - bring the professional back into protesting!”

Needless to say, this heightened cop activity right from the off won’t deter me from my plans, as I suspect goes for a lot of other folk as well.

So there you have it. Blogging silence from me for at least a week or so (who was that who just said “Phew, thank heaven for that”?).

Oh, almost forgot to mention… the Climate Camp website’s here!

Since I’ve got involved in this photography lark I’ve posted quite a few bits and pieces here about my escapades, which is not really what I’d intended for this blog in the beginning.

So, as it doesn’t appear that my photographic exploits are stopping anytime soon, and as its therefore likely that I’ll have more photo-related stuff to post, it seemed the most sensible thing would be to set up a dedicated photo-related blog.

Pinching a few of the posts from here just to get it off the ground, I’ve also borrowed one of this blog’s category labels as its name…

Adventures of an Idiot. Please do check it out if you have a few moments, you’re so inclined, and you fancy a bit of a giggle.

(However, the present intention is for it not to be all humour and self-deprecation… hoping to include a few kit reviews, think pieces, and stuff like that over time.)

Never let it be said that I allow experience to get in the way of stupidity.

Due to an unexpected absence of internet connection (see previous post) meaning that virtually all computer-related tasks were put on hold, I decided I’d indulge a little photo session.

It’d been quite a murky day, overcast and with a definite dampness in the air, so the lighting conditions seemed quite interesting.
And there’s a little public footpath a bit off the beaten track that I’d promised myself I’d explore with a camera at some point.

So, pack my kit up (couple of cameras, tripod, spare batteries, spare memory cards, lens-cleaning kit, hat, gloves, waterproofs - everything bar the kitchen sink practically) and off wandering.

This particular public footpath runs alongside some fields; in fact, its actually part of the fields.
And quite clearly its not used very much by those for whom it was intended as the local farmer has encroached quite extensively upon its width with his ploughing etc.

Now farmland has a tendency to get a bit muddy, particularly in wet weather. And we’ve had quite a few rainy days here recently.

You’d think that with my experience of fields (gleaned from a) having been born and raised in the country, and b) having camped out for days at a time in quite a few fields all over the country, and not always in the best of weather), I’d make all the right connections (fields + rain = mud) wouldn’t you?

Wrong!

So off I traipse up this narrow trackway that’s getting increasingly muddy the further I walk, in pursuit of things worth snapping that, it has to be said, seem few and far between.

Then, about a half-mile into the walk it all runs out - the track, every sign of anything in the least bit inspiring, and all suggestion of solid ground.

And in the homeward walk I’m reminded of something else that experience should in fact have warned me about - mud sticks! Especially to boots.

Still harbouring depression over loss of internet connection (previous post, as if you needed reminding), this is now compounded by precious few photos to show for my expedition and spending the next hour or so cleaning half-a-ton of mud off my boots.

Dammit! I really should have known better.

When I was a kid my mum bought me a small, plastic, Kodak Brownie camera. It was great. Point it at something and press the button and bingo, I’d taken a photograph. And the only thing I had to remember was to keep the sun behind me. I even managed to master the art of changing the rolls of film!

When I wasn’t a kid I ran, for quite a few years, my own relatively successful graphics studio. A significant part of its success was due to the fact that, although I was working virtually as a one-man-band, I was always extremely reluctant to outsource anything.
Which meant that, as time passed, I managed to acquire quite extensive specialised equipment and skills (and also worked 18-hours days!).

Almost inevitably photography began to play an increasing part in my workload so, sticking to my already established working practice, I invested fairly heavily in quite a bit of pro photographic equipment.
Bad mistake! I rapidly discovered I was absolutely useless at it - the gear I’d bought was simply far too sophisticated. Shutter speeds, f-stops, ISO numbers… all double-dutch to me.
Discovered I was really good at darkroom skills. Could process rolls of film without any trouble at all. Pity all the resulting pics were absolutely crap.
Just couldn’t sus out how the whole photography thing worked, and couldn’t really be asked to spend time trying to memorise the various manuals I’d picked up.
Y’see, I’m not really a “manual person”. Much prefer the “hands on” approach, fumblingly finding out how things work simply by doing it. But for some reason that didn’t seem to work very well with cameras, so eventually I just gave up, vowing to never again be tempted into this photography caper.

Well, time passed and the “digital revolution” occurred. Being something of a gadget freak I fairly quickly got into computers and found my tried and tested “hands on” approach worked a treat. In next to no time I was messing around with programming, developing database apps, and having a great time… well addicted.

Then digital photography appeared on the scene. Hmm. “So how difficult can it be?” I asked myself. With the ability to almost infinitely manipulate the end product until some sort of satisfactory end result is achieved, I felt the temptation to dip my toe in again bubbling to the surface.
But I successfully resisted the urge, still smarting from my previous encounter with the art… until other activities of mine rendered photography the next logical step to take. And until a mate maliciously encouraged me to try my hand at it again.

So got my first digital camera (a Konica Minolta DiMAGE Z6) and began to experiment.
Ok, the results weren’t spectacular, but at least I could once again take photos with an ease approaching that of my childhood experiences.
Sufficient in fact to encourage me to go up-market a little bit, and acquire a Canon EOS 400D.

Great bit of kit! Forget all the twiddly bits and the “if you know what you’re doing you can change all the settings” sort of stuff. Simply switch it to auto and click away. I actually began to enjoy using it.

So the other day (Tuesday to be precise) off trots I down to the Disarm DSEi protest in London, armed with camera gear in the role that had led me to acquire it in the first place.

All starts off fine, busily clicking away taking loads of photos (that’s the beauty of digital - you can take as many pics as you like and simply delete the ones that haven’t worked, wasting nothing other than a bit of battery life)… for a couple of hours or so.
So there was I, rapidly walking backwards taking loads of shots of the oncoming protest marchers, flicking between one camera mode and another as various elements kept changing (lighting, distance, etc) when suddenly, dammit, the camera stopped working!

Well, not exactly stopped, but sort of slowed down. I’d press the button then have to wait for ages for the shutter to make its little clicky noise.
So I looked at it. Switched it off. Switched it on. Checked the battery was ok. Made sure the lens was working all right. Fiddled with the knobs and buttons. Switched it off and on again. All to no avail. It simply wasn’t having any of it.
Hmm… perhaps its overheated, I thought. After all, it was a really hot day and I’d been out in the sun all the time. Switch it off and let it cool down a bit maybe.

Fortunately I’d been prescient enough to bring the Konica with me, so used that to carry on with the task of documenting events. But lurking in the back of my mind was the constant thought that I’d broken the Canon, and with that my enthusiasm seemed to wane quite substantially.

On returning home I fiddled with it again. Surely it must have cooled down by now. Turned it on, off, and on again. Changed the lens. Did a few test shots (of the floor as it happens, cos that’s where it was pointed throughout my fiddling). Looked at it. It looked back at me. Not very informative.
I find it difficult to believe now how depressed I felt. Inexplicable. Its just a bit of electronic gadgetry.
Yet somehow I’d managed to sort of “bond” with it. Hell. Its just a camera. And I’d broken it. I felt lost, forlorn, disheartened. So I went to bed.

Following morning kept putting off the job of looking at the Canon again. I knew I had to at some stage, but wanted to delay having my worst fears confirmed - that it was definitely broken and I’d either have to get it repaired or get a replacement. Or, worst scenario possible, read the manual and see if I could sort out the problem myself (hell, its digital isn’t it - there must be a reset button somewhere!).

So that’s what I ended up (eventually) doing. First off, see if the manual mentions a reset button. No such luck. Next, turn to the troubleshooting guide at the back.
But nothing listed there even remotely resembles the fault I’m experiencing. Ah well, just read through the manual cover to cover and see if I can find anything that might be useful (for which read informative).

Well, the fault seemed to occur when I was fiddling around trying to disable flash mode (after all, who needs flash enabled when it was a brilliantly sunny day, and that little flash thingy keeps annoyingly popping up whenever you click the button?).
Hmm… and what’s this, here on page 49, about the “self-timer”. That sounds suspiciously like the fault I’m experiencing. Apparently there’s this special icon thing that shows on the LCD display when the camera’s in self-timer mode.

Switch camera on. Check display. Hey, sure enough, there’s that icon thing. I must’ve inadvertently pressed the “enable” button when I was feverishly changing modes. So how the hell do I disable it? Once more unto the manual, and click… click… its gone.
Heart in mouth, hesitantly try another test shot (of the floor). And bloody hell, its back to normal again. So it wasn’t a fault after all - its a feature!
(Just as well I’d decided to invest some time in trying to sort it myself rather than take it to the local Canon stockist straight away.)

And suddenly my whole mood lightens. To say ecstatic would perhaps be a tad over the top, but not too far short of the truth. And so, once again (for the umpteenth time - I forget precisely how many) I have to remind myself of the acronym RTBM!

I find it difficult to believe how stupid I can be sometimes. The only saving grace is that my semi-permanent state of stupidity is a constant reminder to me never to take myself too seriously.

(For those who don’t know: RTBM = Read The Bloody Manual)