If we were to host our own content, we’d still need some way to authenticate those who we wished to permit access.  But if we could host our content, while we used a network to connect to others’ – in my mind I imagine this as being a little like the arrival of peer to peer networks for file sharing and distribution – we could have the best of both worlds. Especially if the software that enabled the hosting and powered the network were open source.  And this, as I understand it, is what Diaspora will offer when it is launched in a couple of weeks.

The best of both worlds for me, though, is not necessarily something my friends will want or enjoy. Most of them are unlikely to want to host their own seed, or even know how to. So Diaspora could then easily become a ghetto for techies and nerds, if they did not have their eye on the WordPress model of free open source software (.org) for those who want flexibility and power and hosting (.com) for those that want the convenience.  Although with hosting you’re still trusting to a provider, you have choice and there’s no lock-in: it’s all portable if you want to switch.  The critical factor will be over whether anyone can find a way to offer Diaspora hosting for free, in the way WordPress.com (and of course FB) are free.

If so perhaps Diaspora can repeat Firefox’s trick of carving out a share of a market heavily dominated by one player.

Of course the key thing in terms of its success for me will be how many friends will join. Alas, I got no responses at all to a post on both Facebook and Twitter last week, suggesting my friends are all happy to stay put.  I’ll either have to stay with them, or end up on a social network talking only to myself…

David Tennant is such a brilliant technician.  Again, I say that with due respect, he’s a wonderful classical actor, but technically he’s dead on.  You could get it in one with him, he’s like that.  But I’m not sure Matt could always do it first time.  It might be sixth time, but it’s extraordinary, you know?  He’s one of them.  So with Matt you might have to wait for it, but it’s worth waiting for.

I’ve mentioned before how Tennant is a real fan.  McGann is the opposite:

…there’s people out there with degree level knowledge…I couldn’t even get an O level in it, let alone a degree in it!

It was only when he recorded An Earthly Child with Carol Ann Ford (who played the Doctor’s granddaughter in the very first episode in 1963) that he realised the Doctor had a family.  So McGann’s detached, actorly perspective is interesting.

I thought David Tennant was fantastic.  A real shot in the arm, just what the thing needed, somebody that [was] consummately brilliant but also somebody that really believed in it, that was also a real fan.

There’s something appealing about Tennant’s fanboy enthusiasm, but McGann and Smith are both excellent so I wonder how much the lead actor’s connection the the show and its history really matters?

This might not be a problem if people didn’t somehow feel they could say things in emails that they would never say in to you in person (ie venting), or say things they would say to you in person (ie informal and inappropriate, given that it’s not a passing comment but a permanent record in writing).

Here are 7 reasons why I hate email

1. Rudeness.  People write emails when they are angry (and sometimes when they are drunk).  They are sent before the author has time to calm down or reflect on what they’re sending; there’s no limit on length or strength.  They’re not pleasant to read.  Also people rarely bother to work on their email etiquette; those who SHOUT IN ALL CAPS take a lot of persuading to change their ways. These kinds of messages are better suited to face to face or telephone conversations.  Or if they must take place online, instant messaging (or Twitter style short messages) ensure that they are short, to the point, and part of a two-way dialogue.
2. Being copied in.  It’s really easy for people to add loads of recipients; much easier, in fact, than finding out to whom they should correctly address their message.  Too much email => too little attention to any of it, even the important stuff.  And the email gets ignored by everyone anyway, because each thinks someone else will deal with it.  If you want to send someone a message and let others see it, post it to their profile on a suitable (perhaps enterprise) social network.
3. The illusion of privacy: forwarding. A teacher sends a note about a student to a personal tutor, foolishly and thoughtlessly saying what they think about the student.  The personal tutor forwards it to the parent, foolishly and thoughtlessly.  The parent is, naturally, furious to see their offspring so described (and there’s no context or tone of voice in print, nor any chance to claim misinterpretation).  People seem to consider emails to be private communications, unlike say a tweet or blog post, and rarely stop to consider the fact that once they’ve pressed send they’ve not control over who with and how far it gets shared.  If you’re going to be frank, instant message, telephone or ideally face to face communication will reduce the chances of your words being shared verbatim.
4. Not being copied in. Yes, I know this contradicts point 3 but it’s still a failing of email: there may be an important message you miss because both the sender and the recipient do not realise it’s on a subject that may be of great relevance to you.  Had they posted it within a discussion board and tagged it, you could have joined the conversation.
5. The illusion of privacy: replying. You could blame the idiot who got this wrong (i.e. me) rather than the email, but I’ve been caught out in the past when I’ve forwarded an email with a rather blunt assessment of what I think of the senders’ message to a colleague, only to discover I didn’t forward it because I hit reply.  Too easy to do.  Again, frankness is for face to face.
6. The politics of copying in.  Once you copy in X and Y you think “I’d better copy in Z” or they’ll feel bypassed.  And you forget all about copying in W…  Then Z, who you did copy in, has also had to read a dozen messages and skimming yours didn’t notice that you said it was only a proposal, and acts on it straight away…  Again, better to post to where anyone who might need to read it can, and make sure that those who need to see it have done.
7. Organisation.  I don’t want to spend my life doing electronic filing.  Apple Mail has a great search facility which saves me most of the time I need to find a particular message, but when attachments are flying back and forth I never know which is the latest version.  Google Docs or a wiki provide place locate the document and provide versioning and discussion around it.

I will accept there are occasions when email is the most appropriate medium for a task, but the instances where this is the case are far outweighed by the occasions when email is used poorly and inappropriately when there are better tools for the job.  You could try to educate people to use email properly, but has this ever worked?  No.  Therefore I propose email be banned.

Svlad/Dirk “Gently” Cjelli
Dylan Moran/Benedict Cumberbatch/Toby Stephens

Richard MacDuff
David Mitchell

Professor Urban “Reg” Chronotis
James Fox/Andrew Sachs (each has played the part before)

Michael “Wednesday” Wenton-Weakes
Michael Fenton-Stephens (as on the radio)

Susan Way
Shelley Conn (Party Animals)

Gordon Way
Silas Carson (Hustle, Doctor Who)

Janet Pearce
Nia Roberts (Doctor Who)

Just to be clear: I’m idly speculating about who would be good; I’ve no idea who is being cast or considered.  Though actually Dylan Moran was @matchtrick’s suggestion, and Cumberbatch was @mrmzholland’s (and would make him the first person to play both of literatures great detectives on TV!)

This owed a lot to the structure, of course – the problem solving format. Rather than being brought the most insoluble problems which had occurred and which others, lacking Holmes’ insightfulness, had failed to solve; Sherlock was instead faced with a series of tailor made tests.  To accentuate the detachment of both Sherlock and his adversary (and the create a suspenseful imperative to solve everything FAST) innocents’ lives were the stakes.  This artifice was particularly unconvincing: why on earth did Lestrade allow Sherlock to keep that phone if it was just going to encourage further game playing?  If this was the setup, why was there so little effort put into tracing the calls, tracking back the contact with the victims…  Obviously this was not what it was intended the story was about, but as a setup it seemed very contrived. Rather like Die Hard With A Vengeance , in fact.

The other thing that troubled me was, predictably, Moriarty.  He was a dull villain, who appeared in just a couple of stories, and was himself contrived as a way to write Holmes’ noble exit (the reversal of which was, of course, equally contrived).  Moffatt and Gatiss also find Moriarty dull (“dull and posh” was how I recall Moffatt described him) so they’ve made him into a psychopath.  Presumably this is to counterpoint Sherlock’s own psychopathic (sorry, sociopathic) tendency.  The problem is that another psychopath is not really any more interesting than the Chief Executive (sorry, Napoleon) of Crime.  I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the ending, either. By not killing Holmes and Moriarty, they’ve made it too easy to bring both of them back.  Clearly it had to be possible for Sherlock to return, but it would have been excellent to make his “revival” even more of a challenge than that which Conan Doyle presented himself with. And Moriarty, I fear, will be (in contrast to his literary counterpart) a recurring adversary for the lifetime of the show.

Having said all that, I enjoyed the episode hugely.  Unlike the middle episode, there’s sparky dialogue and a renewed unpredictability.  The varied locations are effective, especially the Reichenbach Swimming Pool; and despite the criticism I’ve read (this seems to divide Twitter) I thought Andrew Scott was superb as Jim Moriarty.  Cumberbatch was as good, if not better, than he was in the opener; in summary, more please.  And yes, more has been commissioned, but let it please be not just three episodes next time!

The adaptation is again weakened by the lack of a client, because Holmes is now a consulting detective, and this robs the story of its emotional core.  The Dancing Men is not about cracking a cypher, but about the mysterious Elsie Patrick (the original Soo Lin Yao character), and why is she is so afraid of some scribbled graffiti.  It’s about a wealthy man (who I’d expected to be the titular banker) who married a woman who would tell him nothing about her past, who married her regardless.  It’s about his helplessness in the face of her terror, his ignorance, a promise to respect her secret, and Sherlock Holmes’ delight in being drawn into the puzzle as the deceitful resolution to this otherwise inescapable dilemma. It’s also notable that (unlike the kind of deductions Sherlock makes in this adaptation) in the short story Holmes is concerned with psychology and more than observing and forming conclusions based forensic details he knows human nature and he knows people and the way they think.

In the short story Conan Doyle is concerned with making Holmes appear as brilliant as possible. In this episode, he is used the punchline to one or two jokes about his deductive powers, and he misses the pattern in the Chinese numbers that Watson’s lovely lady Doctor-friend spots straight away.

Finally, at the conclusion another reference to the “Napoleon of Crime” that is crowbarred into the story in a way that reminds me of the early Bond movies.  From Russia With Love is my favourite of those films, and a very faithful adaptation, but the few changes that are made are to insert the risible SPECTRE into the plot and are invariable changes for the worse.  Moriarty is becoming the SPECTRE of Sherlock.  Let’s hope there’s more to next week’s instalment than the machinations of Sir James.

Caroline Lucas has proved herself an interesting an intelligent politician who has developed the Green Part in the UK into a far more credible political force than might have been imaginable a few years ago.  She has speaks well crucially not just on affairs environmental but also on affairs economic, international and judicial.  I haven’t heard her speak on health, but that’s probably because I missed it. As their sole MP, Ms Lucas is effectively their spokesman on everything and she does it well. The Green Party in the past have been vulnerable to claims that they are a single issue pressure group, and that they have an axe to grind on that issue.  By demonstrating a breadth of expertise, and by providing solid, evidence based arguments for her case, Ms Lucas has been an effective debater both during and after the election.

On Thursday she tweeted that she had signed David Tredinnick’s Early Day Motion calling for NHS Trusts to be able to pay for homeopathic “treatments”. This strikes me as a dangerous position for such a progressive Green politician to take.  Given the attacks on climate change science from the “sceptics” and the UEA email scandal, associating herself with an anti-science agenda like this seems to both to undermine her scientific credibility and promote the perception that she is pandering to a “new age” lobby in her constituency.  While she is trying to make the issue local choice, the fact that she will not give her position on homeopathy does not help (this is precarious fence-sitting).

What is perhaps even more sad is that this does a disservice to those who believe that such arguments should be decided by having a better informed evidence-based debate.  When he received his honorary  fellowship here in Cardiff, Stephen Fry spoke of the values of the enlightenment being under attack from many sides. Those who believe in the value of evidence, science and knowledge cannot afford to indulge themselves.  You cannot pick and mix with science or selectively choose the evidence to confirm your prejudice.  It goes wherever it goes, and if we are interested in the truth then that is where we must follow.

It’s bound to upset some of the hardcore Holmes nerds. We love our Victorian Gothic, the cobbled streets, the deerstalker and the pipe.  The adaptations can’t be too faithful.  The canon is the gospel, and the best Holmes is Clive Merrison.  All of which is rubbish, of course (except for that Merrison being the best); if I’m going to enjoy an adaptation then it had better provide something that reading the stories can’t; and Moffatt has clearly clearly chosen to focus on the core relationships in the stories – as he said on Newsnight “The surface is the detection  Underneath is the friendship.”

Sherlock was born out of a conversation Moffatt and Gatiss repeatedly had on the train from Cardiff about doing a modern day Sherlock Holmes: “Do the stories not the trappings”.  But when he said “Someone should do that, and it’s really annoying because it should be us” he seemingly ignores the fact that some already has, with great success, in one of my favourite shows.  Indeed, taking the point “the surface is detection” the writers of House abandoned the crime elements of the source material completely, abstracting the characters relationships one level further (and slightly changing the names, albeit not beyond recognition).  In comparison to that show, Sherlock is positively traditional.  It not only retains the names and professions of the characters (and even Watson’s service in Afghanistan) it actually takes much of its storyline from the work of Conan Doyle.

A Study in Scarlet is not an obvious choice for opening the new series, because although it is the first story and details Holmes and Watson’s meeting, it is commonplace to wait for the second season of the modern TV series to do the “origins” story and to give viewers and immediate taste of the relationship between the characters at the core of the show. It’s not an ideal choice either because it’s nowhere near as fun or scary as some of the later, shorter pieces.  In his review, Sam Wollaston points out that A Study in Pink is less scary than The Speckled Band.  This is true, but then so are most things, the novel A Study in Scarlet among them.  Moffatt, who wrote this opener, then plays fast and loose with the plot. As I’m not a particular fan of the original, this may not seem like a great lost, but to use some of it invites comparison, and some changes do not seem improvements.  Why make the villain’s motivation financial rather than personal (the revenge of the original)? This is far less convincing, and has the appearance of being contrived to allow another adversary (from another of the weakest stories) to be built up; although quite why paying someone to commit random killings would enhance their credibility “criminal mastermind” is not yet clear…

All of which is silly quibbling, really.  Despite the slow opening (perhaps an inevitable result of telling this story of the friends’ meeting) once Cumberbatch appeared as Holmes I was completely absorbed; I even began (guiltily, as I like Matt Smith) to wish Cumberbatch had been cast as the eleventh Doctor (this has past now; as I am convinced he would be even better as the Master).  There are plenty of similarities between Holmes and the Doctor; the brilliance, the otherness and the apparent total lack of interest in the opposite sex – although it’s odd that Holmes appears to be oblivious that he has been asked on a date whilst instantly spotting a liaison between two police colleagues.  In this he once again irresistibly reminded me of House (and his fascination with people); perhaps there is a little influence from that show (even though it’s Watson who gets it, there’s a lot of business with a cane much like House’s).  Freeman, too, is near perfect and nails Watson’s character without being patronising or comical in it.  The womanising is perhaps a little played down, so far, bar one half-hearted effort to chat up Mycroft’s driver.

Speaking of Mycroft, this is another addition that feels unnecessary.  To those who know him, it was immediately obvious who he was going to be (he’s far too thin, but the apparent omniscience in calling phones near Watson, the “government” suit and the fact he stayed put and had Watson brought to him suggested only one person) but he played no role in this story and the again the reveal felt contrived.

One thing central element of the original stories that has presumably been jettisoned is the role played by the detective’s client. In the update, Holmes has become a self-styled “consulting” detective where in the original the client was the character who (in Homes and Watson’s reactions to them) drove the story; much as the patients do in House.

In keeping the characters in their traditional roles (detective and doctor) the science of detection is of vital importance. There is perhaps a little to much emphasis on the forensic (Conan Doyle may have been ahead of his time in this, but this modern Holmes is not about DNA and fingerprints but about making deductions based on observing that which others have missed).  The deductive flourishes are quite properly given centre stage.  Holmes’ fondness for texting is reminiscent of the telegrams in the originals, another nice and rather traditional touch; although the text is somewhat distracting while he is examining the crime scene (and unnecessary since he explains it all verbally and repetitively immediately afterwards – why not just cut the audio of this with the video of the examination?)  But the only time the updating appears to be in danger of becoming itself just a new set of (21st century) trappings is with the gimmicky “find my phone” function of the iPhone – sorry, mePhone; I thought the direct rooftop chase of the taxi was a far more timeless kind of thrill.

Ultimately, I’m not sure that Sherlock really does shake off the trappings of the original stories altogether; though there’s nothing wrong with that when the show is this good. The writing and the performances feel very faithful to the central relationships regardless; and it will be interesting to see if and how the remaining stories deal with Conan Doyle’s original material.  I’m looking forward to Sunday, and still disappointed there are only two more episodes.

Christopher Eccleston’s performance was slightly manic but the humour and the whimsy always felt force.  When he snapped back to the anger (as, say, in Father’s Day, “another stupid ape”) or the pain (in The End of the World when Jabe says “I just want to say… how sorry I am.”) that felt very real.  By contrast, Tennant is exceedingly good at the whimsy and in particular his ability to suddenly and unpredictably switch from one extreme mood to another is breathtaking, and reminiscent of early Doctors.  His comic timing, also, is perfect.  Where his performance felt forced was when he was playing the hard man (something Eccleston carried easily) as in School Reunion for example (“I’m so old now. I used to have so much mercy. You get one warning. That was it.”).  This developed, as Tennant became more comfortable with it, into the “Timelord Victorious” of Waters of Mars (having been held in check by the acid put-downs provided by Donna during the previous series) making a virtue out this over-reaching, but regrettably the theme fizzled out rather than being properly concluded in The End of Time, and story which showcased all the self-indulgence in his portrayal, alongside some of his best work in the part (the scenes with Bernard Cribbins).

Matt Smith shares with Tennant fabulous comic timing, but where Tennant is charming and familiar, Smith plays awkward and alien.  His performance is far lower key; he almost mumbles some of his lines.  Yet when he raises his voice (“There’s one thing you never, ever, put in a trap”) you feel compelled to take him seriously.  There’s also something incredibly empathetic in Smith’s portrayal, and the driving enthusiasm Tennant often displayed has become a more playful and joyful inquisitiveness.  It is an utterly compelling performance.

All the same, I am inclined to agree with my result: in his three years Tennant has given the greatest performances as the Doctor ever.  There’s something about his portrayal that just manages to make you believe not only is he really a 900 year old alien (a “Time King from the planet Gallibey” as Astrid calls him in Voyage of the Damned) but also that he actually was each of his 9 predecessors: there’s a little something of each of them there in his performance; a remarkable achievement.  It must help that he is an unashamed fanboy.  I heard Bennedict Cumberbatch (former potential 11th Doctor, potential 12th Doctor and, from Sunday, the current Sherlock Holmes) describe how he was eating in a restaurant with his mother, and Tennant came over to her and was star-struck: “You’re Wanda Ventham, you were in Image of Fendahl and Time and the Rani. ” What a nerd.  He’s one of us.

Matt Smith is just a whisker behind him though; and he’s only just begun.