There are a couple of things I could write about today. I could write about the Tory party conference, and about how they’re still trying to pretend brown failed us in the recession; but I fear my political rants have grown somewhat ad Hominem of late, so I think I’ll give that subject a rest.

I’m actually more interested today in Disney’s decisions to send their new film Alice in Wonderland to DVD sooner than it ordinarily would. This lead many cinema chains to threaten to boycott it. The argument is if it spends less time in the cinema, there’s less chance of it being pirated. Ii must say, as a student of film, I have to raise an eyebrow: I love the cinema – they are special places. The film theatre, as Bazin wrote, has an aura to it; a kind of magic. You enter into it, the lights go out, and you’re swept away. It’s a kind of fettishistic act; something special. Okay, at home you can close the curtains and turn off the lights, but it simply isn’t the same. This is why I disapprove of Disney’s decision, which seems to have been made for economic rather than artistic reasons. I think the same could equally be said for socalled 3d films – never have I seen a more blatant money-grabbing con. Films are flat media! Oh don’t get me started.

It has been quite a cool little day. I attended a meeting at school. I can’t go into much detail, but they want me to act as a sort of rolemodel for one boy in particular – a voca user who often seems reluctant to participate and rather insecure. He just needs to be shown what is possible, I think.

Today is also my brother’s twenty-fourth birthday. Happy birthday Luke. I don’t get to see him much these days, but I’m sure we’ll talk on skype soon.

Something rather cute happened today at school. It was only very small, and hardly blogworthy really. I was going down one of the corridors, on my way to class, where I overheard one child say to a staff member ”is he the cheverest man ever?” I think the boy had thought I was Stephen hawking. I know I look nothing like professor Hawking, and if you want a physicist you’ve got the wrong Goodsell, but I was very flattered, as well as being rather amused. I take it as a sign the kids look up to me, and feel rather encouraged by it. I really hope I can make a positive difference in school.

In other news, Lyn, as predicted, is now right as rain. Yay!

Poor Lyn is ill. I think she has what I had on Saturday, which hopefully means it’ll clear up soon, but right now she looks severely under the weather. She spent most of today in bed. I feel bad because I don’t know what to do; I whish I could help but I don’t know how. I want to be useful. Luckily, Dan, our PA, is proving to be quite a good nurse, but I guess one of the suckiest things about CP is that you can’ help the girl you love get better.

What a surprise! The lady in charge of the national bullying hotline has, this afternoon, asked Max Clifford to represent her; she obviously thinks she is heading for stardom. She probably would be, if the allegations concerning Brown’s bullying were true. The thing is, they aren’t; nor are they even new. They stem from a book written about two years ago, and one which has been refuted by the persons it claims to quote.* The thing is, guess who told the media about this? who told the bbc the bullying hotline had been called by someone in the civil service. The Tories! Can you believe it. Then Dave CaMoron comes on the box and, in his most even, reasonable-sounding tone calls for an enquiry ‘just so the government can clear all this up’, even though he knows full well that such an inquiry is both totally unnecessary and would be suicide this close to the election. The insincerity of CaMoron – the way he makes lies and ploys sound reasonable – absolutely sicken me. *bbc interview with John Prescot yesterday

I met the headmaster of Charlton park school yesterday. I was a bit intimidated at first, but he quickly put me at ease, telling me of his young sons and exercise regime. Nice fellow – I’m not sure why I was so worried. He mentioned a bit of the school’s history. I got the impression that it was quite long and varied, dating back to the nineteenth century. I’ll have to look into that.

I’m also getting a flavour for local history, too: the other day, John, a friend from round the corner, mentioned that a church once stood nearby, and our house is built on a graveyard. He also said they used to hang people somewhere near here. He told us this on the way home from the pub, which meant it slightly freaked me out. Anyway, I’ll have to look into it later, for I have school soon.

I feel better – much better. Yesterday I felt like crap; I felt like I was dying, almost enough to feel a twang of homesickness. My neighbours had a bug this week, and I think I caught it Friday evening. So yesterday I took it easy, drinking lots and not eating much. A conversation over skype with my brother Luke dealt with the homesickness (thanks bro). This morning, however, I woke up feeling fine – well enough to get worked up at the observer’s bull about Gordon Brown, and at the Tories’ most recent scheme to buy votes. There is nothing like a bit of indignation to clear one’s system.

Let me preface this by saying I’m not an economist, or much good at maths, but I was just thinking about economics. As we know, Labour say we need a slow and steady recovery, whereas the Tories say we need to act now and cut spending. Sixty top economists have today issued a letter in the financial times backing labour’s strategy, whereas only twenty wrote to the Sunday Times backing the Tories’. Now, I have a few points to make. First, 60 is larger than 20; second, the financial times is fairly independent, but the Sunday times is owned by Rupert Murdoch, cheer-leader in chief of the Tory party. Moreover, as we all know, to cut spending now, as the Tories say, would threaten what little recovery we have made – it is almost as if they want the economy to fail, and for us to go back into recession. Of course this would be perfect for them; they could then say brown ruined the economy and hence win the election.

In other words, they are playing politics with the economy; putting their lust for power before our economic well-being. They want a double dip as they would benefit from it. Makes you sick, doesn’t it?

For several weeks Lyn has been working on a new track, called echoes of the past. She finished it yesterday, and posted it to her myspace page. She uses her mac to compose, so I got to hear her build the piece layer by layer. It was a remarkable experience, but I must say I’m blown away by the finished piece. It’s fair to say I’m a very proud boyfriend. Anyway, go listen. Link

We just watched a film called Home on Youtube. I just picked it at random, pretty much, but it turned out to be an absolutely stunning videoessay on climate change and the impact of man on the planet. It is absolutely beautifully shot – I think it was entirely composed of aerial photography – yet, more than anything, it scares me witless. Particularly frightening is the rate at which we’re running out of drinking water.

Anyone with any intelligence can see that man is causing severe damage to the planet, and that we must act now. Part of that action is to acknowledge our responsibility, and to stop hiding behind statistics. It angers me that some people do not believe in climate change – to me such people must surely rank alongside creationists, and deserve only scorn and ridicule,. Unfortunately, such people happen to bee the ones best places to solve the problem, which probably means we’re all doomed.

Anyway, if you can, go look up Home on youtube movies. Link

This has nothing to do with being a cripple, and most of you will probably already know about it, but a night or two ago Lyn and I realised there are entire films on youtube. Lyn pointed it out. What makes this cool for me is, Lyn has her big TV hooked up to her computer, so it’s just like watching films normally. The other night we watched a film called ‘Fired’ which was about being fired, appropriately enough. I know I can’t expect blockbusters to appear on there, but there are some classics like His Girl Friday. What’s more, it’s especially cool if you can’t physically handle DVDs and your PA has gone home. See – I knew there was a disability link in there somewhere.

I have a new book. two, actually. We went to Lewisham yesterday as me and Lyn booth needed to get each other gifts for today. We took the bus: I got there first as you can only have one wheelchair on a bus at a time. The funny thing is, by the time Lyn and kasia caught up with me, I’d already bought my gift for Lyn. This left me free time, as I couldn’t follow Lyn around, for obvious reasons.

I popped into the Works. I don’t usually like the works as they sell coffee-table, populist books rather than the more discursive, academic texts one might find in other book stores. However, yesterday I was in luck: I stumbled upon a Readers’ Guide to JRR Tolkien – two thick volumes in a box. £70 knocked down to a tenner – a bargain.

It’s been a while since I considered Tolkien. As I have aged, I suppose I’ve followed the academic herds in dismissing his works as simplistic fairy tails. At the same time, I find the concept that there are far-right wing political themes in Tolkien unsettling, largely because I can see their point. However, yesterday I decided I would give Tolkien another chance; I’d like to investigate the arguments and discussions around him; to look at him with the same mentality I acquired at university. After we got in last night I had a cursory glance online for papers about Tolkien and politics, and I wasn’t disappointed: writers are now reassessing Tolkien, defending him from accusations of parochialism, anti-urbanism, and so on. To be honest, I have missed such debates. Yesterday’s trip, it seems, was quite fruitful.

It is turning out to be a slow, lazy kind of day. Me and Lyn both overdid it last night: we were having a bit of a celebration as I had had a bit of good news. The school I volunteer at run an event on AAC technology every year, and it seems they want me to be involved. They want to project manage some of the logistics, for which they said they would pay me. This Lyn and I thought cause for celebration, so we had fish and chips with champagne.

I had no school today, so we had a lie in. breakfast became lunch, and after that I flopped out on the sofa. This gave us a chance to watch Dancing on Wheels. Interesting programme: rather like strictly come dancing but with cripples. Interestingly, I noticed all of the cripples were the non-congenital type, and there were no spazzies! It’s a pity: I would be ace on that programme, I reckon. I once won a wheelchair dancing competition when I was 17. All you need to do to win is put your legs over the side of your chair and hurtle around like a maniac. Easy.

I would like to return to a point I made in an entry last week. I said that CaMoron wants to do what Blair did in 97. in fact I think he wants, in a way, to be Blair: we see him presenting himself as a fresh-faced figure, using lots of hand gestures and short sentences. I reckon, if you compared the two men’s styles, both in oration and how they conduct themselves, you’d find the two very similar.

My point is this: what other proof do you need that CaMoron is a sham? He’s obviously latched onto Blair’s successful formula and thinks he can dupe the country into electing him. His is a screen, a mask, behind which lies the same old outdated conservative values. Blair was liberal and open; CaMoron speaks of austerity and a return to rigidness. While I do agree with some of his points and think hip a good speaker, I think he uses lessons learned from Blair to repackage an ideology of class division and the repression of the poor.

Immitations are never as good as the real thing.

Why do head teachers still scare me? They always did, as a kid: to me they were this stern, powerful figure of authority – something to be respected, avoided and feared. Of course, good little cripple that I was, I rarely had to see my headmaster, although I think he was involved that time I cracked my head open trying to ride my walker down the mound.

Yesterday, though, Katherine, the person I work with in my ‘job’, proposed introducing me to the headmaster of the school where I’m working. This is, of course, a good idea, and initially I thought nothing of it. Yet this morning I felt a slight pang of nervousness; I wondered whether I looked respectable. They were similar pangs I felt to the ones I used to feel when going to see a professor at uni. Part of me felt like a small kid again. As it turned out, the headmaster was busy, so our introduction will have to wait. But I still feel nervous.

We went bowling today. Lyn suggested it, and, not having been bowling in ages, I thought it sounded like fun. Lyn won; of course, gentleman that I am, I let her win, just like I let her win the chess game we had in Amsterdam. (persons wanting to dispute this are reminded that they have their own blogs!).

After bowling, I was thirsty. The atmosphere at the bowling ally was so dry, I just needed a coke, so we went to a nearby pub. We took a seat, and we noticed that there was football on. However, I then noticed who was playing – we had stumbled into the local derby! The pub was on two levels, but there was a large screen behind the bar which one could see from both floors. Chelsea supporters were on the upper balcony, arsenal supporters were downstairs. However I got a bit worried what if either team scored? What if a brawl broke out? Would we be able to defend ourselves? I was a bit concerned, and rather excited – we were inn a south London pub for the local derby: it was quite an interesting sociological phenomenon.

As it turned out, neither team scored while we were at the pub, and everybody left quietly. It was quite a cool little outing, though. I’m really enjoying my new life here.

I know that I’m repeating myself, and that I blogged about this the other day, but I’m still very concerned about the stuff about assisted suicide. It isn’t that I’m against suicide per se – I believe anyone should be able to make such a decision – but what worries me is where legalising such acts might lead. It kind of sends out the message that the lives of people with disabilities are somehow worthless, and that we’re all itching to top ourselves. I also worry that it opens the door to some very dark possibilities – what if people start assuming you want to die? What if you can’t communicate your wishes properly? I may be being paranoid, but we may be starting down a slippery slope to some very dark things.

I realised yesterday, with great astonishment, that my friend Hugh Jones – brother of Charlie – lives in new cross. To be fair, C had mentioned it before, but yesterday with the aid of google maps I found out where new cross was: it’s practically within spitting distance of Charlton. I found a poster on Facebook concerning Hugh performing at a pub there, so I looked it up. I was kicking myself, as, if I’d seen it the day before, we could have gone to watch Hugh.

The reason I was looking Hugh up was, the night before, Lyn dan and I were talking about the music industry. Lyn is a musician, and a damn good one at that: she composes using her mac. She is really eager to make it in the music industry, so I suggested she meet Hugh, who now works for the ministry of sound. Now all I have to do is organise a way for them to meet, Lyn will get a record deal, and I’ll be rich! Easy!

A strange thing occurred to me the other day: that, despite it all, despite the absence of WMD and the horrendous loss of life, I still trust Tony Blair more than I do David CaMoron. I think it’s because of what Blair once was: a bastion of hope, a fresh face; the person who ended 18 years of misery under the Tories. I was watching him at the chilcot enquiry, and I thought, ”this man lied to us, yet I still trust him more than CaMoron. Why?”

I think it’s because Blair is genuine – CaMoron isn’t. Blair had firm convictions, and has stood by them. He honestly thought he was acting for the greater good. All I see when I look at CaMoron is an act: a shallow, hollow attempt to present himself and his party as reasonable and delectable. The other day I saw a poster with CaMoron’s face and the words ”are we Blair yet?” I thought it hit the nail on the head: CaMoron is hoping to do what Blair did in 97. He goes around trying to tell people that Britain is broken, when in fact it is doing rather well. We’ve just come out of the worst recession in living memory relatively unscathed, thanks largely to brown; unemployment is also lower than it might have been. In short, the last 13 years have been a period of prosperity, and for CaMoron and his brainless minions to go around pretending otherwise is just plain wrong. I’ve spoken to Tories who would have you believe the recession was caused by brown.. How can anyone believe such demonstrably untrue bullshit? In fact it was only because of brown that this country didn’t hit a 1920s-style depression, yet the Tories intend to lie and cheat their way into government by any means. And that’s why I still trust blair more than CaMoron.

There is a small voice in the back of my head which screams the word ‘hypocrite’ every time I go into school. I still think I can make a difference there, and I still think it is a good thing to do. Yet there was a time when I was appalled at the very existence of special schools, and I still think most of the arguments I heard in those days are essentially valid.

Inclusion must proceed where at all possible; I do not think many people would argue with that. But where vulnerable children are involved, idealism must give way to pragmatism. Part of the reason why I’m going into school is to better educate myself on the other side of the debate. I must admit the situation is far more complex than I must thought, and I can see why some kids need the settled environment a special school provides. Yet, other times, I look at kids and think ‘why aren’t they in mainstream?’ this is not an argument one can afford to be dogmatic about, and I’m yet to draw any final conclusions.I am starting to come to the opinion that inclusion can proceed, but elements of segregation must be retained.