I am very pleased to report I have had a massively productive week. I have really thrown myself into getting my book written, and I have already got five and a half chapters done. Sorry my blog entries have been so short recently, but I’ve been spending about five hours a day bashing out this book. While I have been using a lot of old blog entries, I’ve had to heavily rewrite them, and over seventy-five percent of it is new stuff. I haven’t written so much so fast in a long, long time.

Anyway, I was just trying to compose a description of Alsager. It has been over eight years since I was there so it has been slow going. To refresh my memory, I thought I’d visit it on Google streetview. Somehow, in my mind, this view has now merged with this one. Alsager’s high street morphs weirdly into Charlton’s: Two villages have become one, confusing my sense of place. Mind you, if only Charlton had a decent pizzaria.

I really need to flag up The Silent Child, which just aired on bbc1. It’s just twenty minutes long, but it’s brevity beguiles it’s power. I better not say much about it; it’s about a deaf little girl and her new tutor. What makes the film such a groundbreaker is that the young actress who plays the girl is deaf herself, and that the film is subtitled throughout. It is thus a statement about inclusion, and a sign that the mainstream media may now be trying to include people with disabilities a bit more. Surely a step in the right direction. I can see why it won an oscar.

You’re probably expecting to read something about Brexit on here tonight, and the fact that it’s a year to go until the xenophobes get their way. It has been all over the news. The truth is, however, I don’t want to. The entire subject just makes me too angry. As far as I am concerned, brexit is an act of utter stupidity: the people of this country were deliberately mislead by criminals into voting for something manifestly counter to their best interests. We are being forced by bigoted, barely literate morons to turn our back on the world. (Don’t believe their bullshit about britain going global.) I am still very angry about it indeed, and will continue to fight something which boils down to fascism.

One of the guys I play powerchair football with is Dan Holt. I’m not sure I mentioned it on here, but we went to school together – he was a year or two younger than me – so to bump into him again down here in the metropolis was cool. He is training to be a barrister, and I just came across this short video about him on the BBC website. Very cool stuff indeed. You know, quite a few former Hebden pupils have done very well for theirselves, leading me to suspect that I was wrong to once be so dismissive of the place.

Just as an update on this entry of three weeks ago, I still have an EU flag proudly attached to my powerchair, and nobody has said anything. I don’t know why I was so worried; it’s as if nobody has noticed it’s there. I thought I might get abuse for showing my political opinion so clearly, but nobody has batted an eyelid. It might just be because London is a Remain city, but so much for trying to be provocative.

Just a bit of a progress report this evening. I’m pleased to say that I have started work proper on the book idea I mentioned a couple of days ago. I’m over a thousand words into the first chapter. I’ve decided, though, just to confine the narrative to my undergrad years; the drawn-out story of how I wrote my masters can wait. This way, I can focus on that lovely fascinating three year period from 2004 to 2007.

I plan to take writing this book seriously: too many times recently, I’ve had these ideas, started work on them, only to promptly get bored and forget about the whole thing. It’s a very irritating trait I have. This time, then, I plan to keep it up. My plan is to write at least one three to four thousand word chapter a week, and hopefully by the end of ten weeks I’ll have something of reasonable length. I’m sure I can keep that up – it just takes the same kind of writerly discipline I use to keep my blog updated. The thing is, unlike writing blog entries, I need to work out how to present the history of that period of my life, and how do depict certain people without making anyone angry. While I want to stay reasonably faithful to what actually happened, I may have to use a degree of writer’s licence, just to make sure I end up with a coherent, reasonable story.

Expect more progress reports like this to follow. (In fact, please hold me to it.)

The shit is really starting to hit the fan when it comes to Brexit. According to this Channel Four report, the Leave campaign broke electoral commission spending rules, throwing the referendum result into doubt. If you ask me, of course, such a revelation wasn’t to be unexpected: what do you expect from a campaign which, for all their claims of being liberal and internationalist, boils down to a bunch of xenophobic little Englanders? Mind you, as the report says, this news is unlikely to change anything. Even though it is now painfully clear that the outists cheated and the referendum was won based on lies, the UK is still speeding towards the cliff edge, and they are still bent on stripping us of our rights. I just hope that, as report after report like this comes out, people realise what is going on and rise up to stop this folly in it’s tracks.

After quite a long afternoon out and about, I just returned home to find this very cool news. Apple are going to create emojis for people with disabilities. ”A guide dog, a wheelchair user and prosthetic limbs are just some of the symbols it’s suggested. It said very few of the current emoji options ‘speak to the life experiences of those with disabilities’.” I think this is to be warmly welcomed, although I’m still waiting to see the emoji of a person using a communication aid.

Today I started to bash out a rough plan for the book idea I mentioned here. Truth be told, I had quite forgotten about it, probably due to the fact we went on holiday shortly after I had had it. Yesterday, however, I came across it again, and decided it was worth a shot. I think the story of my years at university is one worth telling; there is a lot I could say about that episode of my life. I also think that I need something more hefty to work on. Blogging is great and I certainly intend to keep updating my site, but there’s only so much you can do with this form of short prose. I want to begin something far longer, which I can return to over weeks or months, which I could then print and even publish. I could go into much greater detail with it, taking my time to explore issues which just get skirted over in blog entries. That, then, is what I began today, but don’t expect any results soon: it, like my Master’s thesis, will probably be slow going, but, like my Master’s, I fully intend to see it through.

I remember joining facebook, over ten years ago. I was in two minds about it: on the one hand, as a blogger, I liked to think I was a little more independent than other internet users, so I was reluctant to sign up to the website everyone else was signing up to. On the other hand, it would be a great way to stay in touch with all my uni mates after we graduated. The latter argument won the day of course, and these days facebook is one of the websites I always keep open in a tab.

I’m sure that goes for most other people these days; you have to wonder how this one website became so powerful, so central to modern culture. Even massive companies and organisations like the beeb now include their Facebook page in their advertising. In a way it’s quite scary, so to see Facebook in so much trouble, and being linked to some highly dodgy goings on, is enough to raise a very concerned eyebrow. I suppose the site just got too big and tempting for certain people not to exploit.

I’m not ready to delete my facebook account just yet. It’s still the best way to keep in touch with people, and these days it’s great to see all the baby photos my old university friends put on there. But you can’t escape this warning: the bigger a website gets, the more central it becomes to culture, the more likely it is to be bent to the will of the powerful.

When I moved in with Lyn eight years ago, I began to drink through the thick, reusable plastic tubes she uses. I quickly found that I preferred them, and these days always carry a couple in my bumbag. Until then, however, I’d always used normal disposable straws, and still do when necessary, so I can easily see why so many disabled people are enraged that the p’tahk Gove wants to ban them. This is surely just a case of a tory trying to sound nice, modern and environmentally friendly, without actually having a clue about the real impact of his moronic pronouncements. Granted, normal drinking straws do have an environmental impact, but banning them would mean thousands of people with disabilities would be unable to drink.

On the wall above my computer now hangs something wonderful: a beautiful, remarkable image created just for me. In it, a figure of a boy with a staff stands on a rock, overlooking not the sea but the vastness of space, populated by stars and be-ringed planets. There’s a tall ship and a whale, half it’s tail forming a crescent moon. Thus it merges space and the ocean so that they become one, and the boy looks out into the vastness of both.

This incredible image was given to me yesterday by Debbie as a birthday present. She knew about my fascination with space, the sea and Moby Dick; we had spoken quite a bit at the cafe. When she told me she was making a picture for me, I was of course flattered, but I had no idea that it would be so wonderful, so perfect. It just makes me want to look at it – to stare into the vastness of the ocean, the infinity of space, and dream. How fantastic is it to have such incredible, talented friends.

In a way I’m feeling quite cheerful about Brexit this morning. It’s now undeniable, is it not, that carrying on with this utter embarrassment will only cause more and more damage. Surely after yesterday politicians of any party must now think the only logical thing to do would be to cancel it. As Rafael Behr writes in the Guardian ”There is no substantial problem facing Britain to which leaving the EU offers an effective remedy. Even on its own advertised terms, Brexit is a dud. There will still be immigration across porous borders. There will not be an immediate bonanza of free-trade agreements with other countries…” As much as I try to keep well clear of conspiracy theories, behind the scenes surely the tories must now be desperately looking for a way out of this mess.

Only, of course, they can never admit it. They must carry on the pretence, simply because of that stupid fucking referendum two years ago: ”The people’s will” and all that bullshit. The will therefore blunder on with something they know full well will severely damage the country, simply because they are reluctant to nullify the referendum result. I must admit, I would be too in their shoes: democracy must be respected, or at least be shown to be respected. Suddenly announcing that what happened in 2016 doesn’t count anymore would just enrage people who feel persecuted and belittled as it is.

In a way, stuck between a rock and a hard place, you have to feel sorry fo them. As loathsome as they are, the tories are educated, well-informed people; they know where this path leads and the damage Brexit will cause, but they have no choice but to follow it. While behr writes that Brexit cannot now simply be reversed and the clock magically set back to before June 2016, that must be exactly what the tories long to do. Yet the cat is out of the bag: people voted for Brexit in part through a (misguided) sense of catharsis; they wanted to strike back at what they saw – or were lead to see – as ‘the system’. If brexit was reversed, that powerful, controlling, incomprehensible system would be seen to be reasserting it’s power, and the tensions which lead people to vote Leave would amplify tenfold.

We really are up shit creek here, aren’t we? As much as davis and Johnson will try to paint what was agreed with the EU yesterday as a settlement, we have had to concede almost everything. The Outists snapped on virtually every promise they made – there is now no point carrying on. The only sensible thing to do now would be to stop Brexit, and if common sense is allowed a voice there can be now little doubt we’ll end up remaining. The problem is, this stupid affair has released tensions that mean that common sense cannot prevail. Reverse Brexit, and people will be up in arms; every shred of credibility the tories – and government as a whole, for that matter – ever had would be lost. People will feel even more ignored and sneered at by those they see as the cultural elites. The forces which lead people to vote leave will be compounded. Thus they have no choice but to keep up the pretence that they are campaigning to get the best possible deal for the UK, even though they know full well that they have no chance of doing anything other than ruining the country.

I now think the end of Brexit is inevitable and we’ll end up remaining a member of the EU, in one form or another. I should be happy. My worry is, the fury that might now generate from those who voted to leave. It’s far too late to turn the clock back and try to pretend this whole farce never happened, as much as the tories might wish they could. Oh, what a mess.

A few days ago I came across a reference to a 1996 film made at Charlton House, called Monarch. Curious to find out more, and looking for potential subjects for my offering to this year’s local film festival, I ordered a copy of the DVD. It arrived yesterday and I just watched it. I must say I’m in two minds about it: the script is poor and the acting’s terrible, but at the same time I think there’s potential for a project about it. It’s shot entirely in and around Charlton House, so from a localist perspective, there is plenty to explore. I could, for instance, examine how the House was used in the film, and how both internal and external shots of the building were used to create an aesthetic of historicity. Watching the film just now I found it amusing trying to spot parts of the house I recognised. They actually filmed in the room where the festival has it’s meetings. At the festival, we could screen the film, then guide pundits around the house to see how much the building showed through. I may be able to weave a bit of theory in there too. I think I could have just started what may turn out to be a very interesting project.

While I have no idea who made it or how it came about, Dominik just sent me a link to this piece of epic weirdness. It’s a couple of years old, so it obviously wasn’t made for me today. Presumably someone somewhere has made a batch of similar short videos, each to suit a different name, ready for people to send their friends links on their birthdays; but the sight of some drugged up cats wishing me a happy birthday in a weird electronicised tone just seemed too apt for me not to flag up on here.

I just came across something which I’m very, very excited about, and it isn’t the snow. I’ve been seeing rumours about it for weeks, but it has finally been confirmed that Danny Boyle will direct the next Bond film. When I first read the rumour that Boyle might direct it I thought it too awesome to be true: one of my favourite directors, a guy I’ve actually met and who created what I still think is the greatest cultural moment ever, helming one of my favourite film franchises. How cool is that. I can’t wait to see what Boyle does with it; no doubt he will want to take it in an unusual direction, perhaps making it more gritty. Boyle is one of the best directors out there, so I think we bond fans are in for a treat this time. And how incredible would it be if they made some kind of sly allusion to 007 having ‘royal duties’? Mind you, we’ll have to wait ’till the end of next year to see what he comes up with.

Lyn is still relishing running her own online radio station Journey Radio. It’s going from strength to strength, getting more DJs quite regularly. I’m pleased to say it now has a new app, enabling everyone to listen to the musical stylings of Lyn wherever you go. Lyn is very proud of it, so I want everyone to go get it from the Istore now.

I really think I need to flag this Yahoo article up about how much of the reaction to Stephen Hawking’s death so far can be seen as ablest. The way it goes on ad nauseam about hawking being amazing ‘despite his disability’, and the vomit-worthy crap about him ‘being free now’ etc illustrates the anti-disability prejudices ingrained in society. As the article says, having a disability is seen automatically as an impediment or hinderance, rather than just something which makes you, you. There is the preconception that a disability is automatically something to be overcome, so, the article points out, the vast majority of the reaction to Hawking’s death has focussed on his disability rather than his work as a physicist and activist. As it says, ”There’s nothing wrong with celebrating Hawking’s life and incredible work but it’s possible to do that without fixating on his disability.”

I just got to my computer to find this very, very sad news on the BBC website: Stephen Hawking has passed away, aged 76. Hawking has always been one of my heroes, not only through his scientific work but as a communication aid user. As perhaps the most visible VOCA user around, he sort of came to represent all of us. I read his Brief History Of Time years ago, when I was still at school, but, for me, the moment I will always remember Hawking for is his awesome appearance at Monty Python Live, singing the Galaxy Song. Rest in peace Stephen Hawking, you will be greatly missed.

My parents just paid us a visit. It was great to see them, just to catch up over a coffee. I speak to them quite regularly over Skype of course, but there’s something special about a good long chat over a coffee. We just caught up with each other’s news, and made a few plans. As much as I love my life as a chronicler in this vast, urban maelstrom, it’s good to be able to see my parents, and make plans to visit them on the old family house fairly soon.

I’ve been pondering a simple question recently: can Brexit be thought of as a type of occupation? I know that, on one level, that question will appear pretty childish. Of course there is no way one can liken what is currently happening in the UK to a proper military occupation by an external, oppressive force. Yet on another, perhaps more cultural level, I think we Remainers can see ourselves as having had the country we know taken from us, it’s course altered towards a more individualistic, nationalist, isolationist direction. I think we now see ourselves as a type of resistance fighting against this oppressive occupation force, perhaps not in a violent, physical sense like the French resistance during the Second World War; or even a nonviolent resistance like the one lead by Gandhi against British imperial rule in India. Rather, ours should be a cultural resistance: we should reverse the folly of two years ago through creating things, making art demonstrating why we need to be part of Europe, showing what a catastrophic mistake deciding to isolate ourselves was. This movement has to be as big and as powerful as possible in order to successfully change this country’s direction, but I for one believe in the power of art – painting, writing, music, film or whatever. We need to stop what is going on as urgently as a country would need to eject an occupying force before it’s taken too far towards a dark, bigoted, neoliberal unwelcoming state we who cherish diversity and tolerance would no longer recognise.

I think I’ve found a new hobby: climbing. Dominik took me to a local indoor climbing wall in Woolwich yesterday, something he had been talking about doing for ages. To be honest I as in two minds about it: it sounded fun, but I rather suspected that I would take one look at it and decide it wasn’t going to happen. Once we got down there though, I decided I would give it a go. After all, my experience caving in Lanzarote taught me to never discount anything as impossible.

Once Dominik had harnessed me up, I walked over to the most basic part of the climbing wall, and grabbed the first coloured grip. Still not sure how far I’d get, I pulled myself up, Dom supporting me on the rope. I put my foot onto the first support, and then reached out for the second grip; then the third, a little higher. And then I realised: holy shit, I was doing it!

In a strange way it was easier than I thought it would be. I don’t know how much of a role Dom played pulling me up, but I soon found locating the grips and pulling myself up both easy and great fun. As I went higher and higher, I decided that I could really get into climbing as a pastime. I really had to focus, so all that existed for me for a few moments was that rock. And before I knew it, I was at the top, able to touch the ceiling.

The problem then, of course, was getting back down to the ground. I had to let go of the wall as Dom lowered me, but the first time I didn’t know how to stop myself swinging back and banging against the wall. Once back on the ground and after a short rest, I decided to have another go. Getting up was again rather fun, but that second time Dom – himself an experienced climber – told me to walk back down the wall, feet spread apart so I didn’t swing. That worked well, but reaching the ground a second time I found I was totally knackered and rather sore.

Once unharnessed and having caught my breath, the awesomeness of what I had just done struck me. I had climbed a climbing wall, on my own, as anyone else would. How fantastic! There and then, I decided to go again – perhaps this was something Dom and I could do quite regularly. Dom recorded a bit of it on my Ipad, which I now want to edit and upload to Youtube. It just goes to show, you don’t know you can’t do anything until you try it, so you can never rule anything out.

ADDENDUM: the (unedited) video can now be seen here

I watched something very interesting indeed on tv last night, although I don’t feel I can give it the full review it warrants. 78/52 is an examination of Hitchcock’s famous shower scene from psycho. It’sa ninety minute dissection of a single moment in film, and as such for me it harks straight back to my work on cinephilia and cinephiliac moments. The program goes through the scene cut by cut, line by screenplay line, bringing in all kinds of experts to talk about it (although, curiously, no Zizek and no mention of Lacan). It thus struck me as quintessentially a work of cinephilia, as it explored almost everything about the scene in minute detail. It was great to watch and made me want to dig out my Hitchcock DVD collection and books. Proper film analysis on mainstream tv is quite rare, and, although there wasn’t much in terms of the stuff we covered in our second year at uni, it was great to see film being taken seriously for once.

Taking things a step further than last week’s flag adventure, I’m now the proud owner of a new anti Brexit jumper.

Daniel Hannan really is an insufferable little prick, isn’t he. I was on the Remain Facebook pages yesterday and kept coming across a video by him. I tried to ignore it at first because I knew it would just piss me off, but just after lunchtime I decided to give it a viewing. That was a mistake: what I saw enraged me so badly that I shook with anger. I shouted at the screen so loudly – proper, full-bodied shouts the likes of which I’ve never made before – that Dominik came running in to my room thinking something was wrong.

That insult to human civilisation was trying to liken those who refuse to accept the referendum result to a death-cult: apparently, we follow leaders who foretell the apocalypse; but when it does not come, instead of accepting the leaders are wrong, Hannan claimed we have confirmation bias. It was such patronising, insulting bullshit that I wanted to put a brick through the piece of shit’s empty, bald head.

It made me so angry that I shook with rage – I’m shaking again now, thinking about it. How dare he? How dare this arrogant little p’tahk try to dismiss all the data indicating leaving the EU was a catastrophic mistake as a mere delusion, as if everything was peachy and we Remainers just didn’t want to admit the truth? So the vast majority of businesses and almost the entire academic community is wrong, is it? He would have us believe everything is going fabulously, and Remainers are just malcontents who refuse to admit the truth. He says that we haven’t gone over the cliff edge predicted during the remain campaign, but that’s only because we haven’t actually left the EU yet. All the signs point towards Brexit being an utter disaster, but Hannan wants us to dismiss that as a child is told to dismiss scary stories. Rarely have I come across anything so arrogant, so condescending, so up-it’s-own-arse.

I found it incredibly insulting to have what I know to be facts dismissed as a delusion; as if we are all whinging children who should just shut up and defer to people who know better. The way he used the term ‘confirmation bias’, as if his argument had some kind of intellectual grounding, made it even worse; as if he was claiming that he knows what he is talking about and we do not. Frankly I’m furious that this prick should be allowed to remain as an MP after openly insulting so many people.

Moreover, that video was an attempt at outright deception – what Hannan was claiming flew in the face of the obvious truth. Daniel Hannan should therefore resign.

His presence befouls parliament, and we need better people than this insufferable little scumbag running the country,

At just after eight last night I got some very sad news from my friend Esther. I wasn’t at my computer at the time, but heard it ping to say I had received a message over Facebook. When I checked it a few minutes later, I saw it was from Est; but then my heart sank. Her brother Richard had passed away on Monday afternoon. I’d met him a couple of times, and knew how close Esther was to her brothers. I just wanted to get the first train up to Crewe and hug my friend. This was Esther, the woman who was always there for me, the woman who helped me through university. She is one of my best friends, and there was nothing I could do to help her.

I decided, there and then, to arrange to go up to cheshire to see her as soon as possible. It’s high time I called in at my Parent’s house anyway. I’ll ask dad to drive me over to Crewe, and spend some time with my old friend. Esther, if you’re reading this, I’m so sorry. All my thoughts are with you and your family.

I came across something potentially incredibly interesting today, although I don’t have much to note about it on here. Lyn and I were in Charlton Park as usual. As we were rolling up to the cafe, I noticed a couple of guys working on the lawn behind the house. I’d seen them yesterday too, in front of the house, doing what looked like a geophysical survey – I recognised it from Time Team. Of course, that aroused my curiosity, so today I decided to roll up to them and ask. Sure enough, that’s exactly what they were doing: apparently there was a seventeenth or eighteenth-century road which went through that field, and they were trying to locate it. When I asked whether there would be an archaeological dig, the guy said he didn’t know, at which point I left him to it. Not much to go on I know, but I find that kind of thing fascinating. I wonder where the road came from and went. I really hope I get to watch a real life Time Team-esque dig in our local park soon.

Apparently my old school, Hebden Green, appeared in this episode of Something Special, the beeb’s program for kids with learning difficulties. It was flagged up on Facebook, so I thought I’d watch it to see if I could spot anywhere I recognised. I think i saw one or two spots I know, although the old place must have changed quite a bit over the last seventeen years, but to be honest I was more concerned with working out what the hell the guy presenting it had taken. I know it’s a show aimed at kids with SEN, but the tone it takes is utterly bizarre: kind of like a very condescending acid trip.

I don’t usually pay much attention to the Oscars (too much like big-budget mainstream congratulating itself), but I’m glad to see that The Silent Child won an award last night. I can’t say much about the film itself not having seen it yet, but I’ve heard great things about it. It is about a six-year-old Deaf girl, played by Maisie Sly, and her struggle to communicate. ”The Silent Child tells the story of a profoundly deaf four-year-old called Libby, played by Maisie. She lives a silent life until a social worker, played by [Rachel] Shenton, teaches her how to communicate through sign language.” Thus it’s an film which highlights some of the issues surrounding communication to thefore, which seems to me very much a step in the right direction. I’ll try to get this film watched as soon as possible, and hopefully write a review, but for now it’s great to see disability issues and actors with disabilities finally taking centre stage.

A couple of days ago I asked our PA Kirsty to tape an EU flag I’d picked up at a protest to the headrest of my powerchair. I decided it was time to be more overt in my opposition to what is going on in this country. The snow thawing, this afternoon was the first time I managed to go out with the flag on. It started well enough: first we rolled over to the park for a coffee, and everything was fine. They know us there, the people are open and friendly, and nobody said anything.

However, leaving Paul to go home, L and I went to get groceries from Sainsburies on Greenwich Peninsula. As we rolled down the hill, truth be told I began to feel pretty nervous. Were people staring at me (more than normal, I mean)? Was I attracting hostility? What if I was shouted at, or even attacked? That road goes quite close to thee valley, Charlton’s football stadium, and – not wanting to resort to stereotype – I know what football fans can be like. Being open about my politics is all very good, but knowing how worked up everyone is getting about this issue, was I doing the right thing?

I was probably just being paranoid. In the end nobody said anything about the flag, although I may have received one or two angry looks. Yet I know that, as strongly as I feel about staying part of the EU, others feel just as passionately about leaving it. What if I encountered one of those people, who objected to me carrying the EU flag so openly? I felt genuinely nervous this afternoon, and I’m in two minds about leaving the flag attached, although I’m determined to stay true to my convictions. Yet surely this goes to show what damage this wretched referendum has done to the atmosphere in this country.

Just when I thought the world couldn’t get any more stupid, I come across this Young Turks video. A church in Pennsylvania has began to worship guns. They bring their guns to church, claiming they symbolise the ‘rod of iron’ the bible talks about. I’ve rarely heard of anything more ridiculous or more scary.

These psychopaths have naturally stirred up quite a bit of controversy in the states, with people protesting frequently outside. As the guys in the video point out, imagine if this wasn’t a church but a mosque, with people openly showing off their high-calibre assault rifles – there would be an absolute outcry.

Yet I think there’s something more insidious going on here: certain Americans seem to want to link their supposed ‘right to bear arms’ to religion. They think the second amendment is under threat; one way to make sure their right to own guns is protected might be to deliberately conflate that right with the right to religious freedom. No government could impinge on religious freedom, so their guns are safe. Seen that way, it’s a fairly cynical act. To take that a step further, who’s to say that gun manufacturers or groups like the NRA aren’t behind this scary church, deliberately using it for their own abhorrent ends? Make guns a part of religion, and they take on an entirely new cultural position.

Either way, it’s very, very scary. Our American cousins seem to be lurching from one mind-numbing stupidity to another. I know not all Americans are this psychotic, and that many are as appalled at what is now going on there as I am; yet the country seems to be going further and further to the right, and I dread to think where all this gun-worshiping stupidity will end up.

Earlier I came across this review of the Star Trek The Next Generation episode The Drumhead. It was such a good review that I decided to look the episode up on Nexflix. It’s a classic episode, and the reviewer makes the very good point that the conclusions a viewer draws from it have never been more salient than today. In the episode, an explosion aboard the Enterprise leads to a high-level investigation headed by Admiral Norah Satie (played by the great Jean Simmons), a retired officer renowned for her skill at exposing conspiracies. Satie quickly determines that a visiting Klingon officer was attempting to smuggle diagrams off the ship, but the Klingon denies any involvement in the explosion. Satie refuses to give up on her investigation, even after the explosion is proven to be an accident, and she accuses Captain Picard of treason when he challenges her charges against an innocent crewman. Thus it is an excellent illustration of how easily things can go too far, and how the forces of fascism and bigotry don’t always come twirling their moustaches.

Such episodes are TNG at it’s best. Patrick Stewart was fantastic, especially when he gave this speech about the need for constant vigilance. While I was watching it, though, an idea occurred to me. Star Trek often teaches us valuable lessons through allegory: what if someone made a star trek episode – possibly official, possibly fanfic – in which one of the members of the Federation decides to break off from it? Perhaps the Vulcans or Andorians could have been persuaded by some extremist sect that the Federation had too much power over them, and they needed to take back control. The episode could then go into the consequences of their leaving, showing them turning inward, becoming more impoverished and isolated.

To my knowledge there hasn’t been a Star Trek episode of any series which explores this subject, and I have no idea how to go about getting it made. Part of me says I should just start typing, but I wanted to get the idea down on here first. Of course, if it ever came about at all, it would probably just be in the form of fanfic; but how awesome would it be if we could somehow get Patrick Stewart to reprise his role as Picard for it. Stewart is a determined Remainer, so I daresay he would be very game to participate in a project like this. Imagine it: Jean-Luc Picard once again on the bridge of the Enterprise, debating over the viewscreen with some isolationist fool the rights and wrongs of unity and cooperation. (Plus, if I actually wrote the episode, it would mean I could meet him again). It would be truly, truly awesome – if only I had a chance in hell of making it happen. Yet Star Trek instilled in me a value for tolerance, cooperation and the need to unite as one – values which the referendum two years ago directly insulted.