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The increasingly inaccurately-named blog of journalist and futurist Chris Taylor. Either the most sporadically brilliant amateur blog, the most brilliantly amateur sporadic blog, or the most amateur sporadic brilliance on the Web since 2001.


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I'm the newly-appointed Future editor at Business 2.0 and the former San Francisco correspondent for Time Magazine.

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Yes -- the Future Boy blog for Business 2.0. And yes. If you want true, editorially-mandated daily coverage from me, that's probably the best place to look.

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Why yes I am, as it happens. I was born, raised and educated in Great Britain. I've been living in the U.S. since 1996 and identify as British.

I say, old chap, you forgot the "u" in "colour."

No I didn't. I may identify as British, but I am also an American journalist writing for an American audience about mostly American issues. These two different sides of me are a constant source of tension. Nevertheless, Daily Blah will adhere to American English grammar and spelling.





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Chris Taylor


Daily Blah for... Tuesday, March 05, 2002


Primary Day

All day they've been traipsing past my window in pitifully small numbers, the voters of San Francisco. I work at home, and while there are many advantages and disadvantages to that (plus: doing interviews in my boxer shorts. Minus: no water-cooler gossip), one thing it affords me every election day is a view of democracy at work. My neighbor across the tiny private street I live on turns her garage, normally filled with BMW motorbikes, into a polling station. This is an unusual thing for me. Back where I come from, polling usually takes place in schools, which get the day off. The poll workers get better shelter and facilities, too. It's pouring with rain and dark as hell tonight, but they're still there with their mini-heaters and picnic tables. And, it has to be said, there would be more voters than this. My neighbor, the one on the other side who works for the Canadian consulate, says it's possibly the lowest turn out in city history. It is, after all, only a primary, and most of the Democratic contests are decided, and there are only a few propositions, none of them very exciting.

I can't vote, being a foreign national, so I sit and spend much of the evening watching Ghandi -- you can flay me for this, but it's the first time I've seen it -- and wonder why it takes a force like oppression to make people care about their liberty. Take away the impression of tyranny and nobody much cares who the district attorney is or whether to vote yes or no on the clean water or safe neighborhood parks act. Yet tyranny and oppression come in different and subtle forms. Look at how Enron bought its way into government and effectively dictated energy policy (or did it? Prove me wrong, Mr. Cheney). The size of the turnouts in this country have stunned me ever since I arrived here six years ago. You simply can't rely on a minority of voters to make the right decision. That slow-walking collection of shivering San Franciscans outside my window is simply not enough to safeguard the true liberty and freedom of all the citizenry.

If it's primary day where you are, for crying out loud, go out and vote. I don't care how wet or cold it is. It's what I'd do if I had the chance. And it's what the Mahatma would have wanted.


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