Note to self: next halloween, buy sweets. (Now I’m in my own home, this is the type of little detail I really must keep track of.)

Something I found quite interesting and noteworthy happened today. I had a meeting with my social worker this afternoon. He’s Deaf so a sign language interpreter usually joins us at our meetings, but today there was apparently no BSL interpreter available. That was, however, not a problem: I typed what I wanted to say into my ipad as usual while he wrote what he wanted to tell me onto a pad of paper. I’m sure you can imagine the scene, both of us sat in a small room in The Woolwich Centre: neither speaking in the usual sense but nonetheless communicating perfectly, the room silent apart from my Ipad and frequent laughter. It worked very well, striking me as a great example of how disabilities should not constitute any kind of barrier. At the very least I thought it deserved noting on here.

If you ask me, this is exactly the sort of thing we need right now. The Little Britain crew are reuniting to do a  one-off Brexit special,  Little Brexit. That is exactly the sort of cultural response to the current cultural absurdity we need: artists of  all kinds need to use their skill to react to and show discontent at what is going on. In this case, some very skilled comedians are reviving some well established, well known characters in order to mock the current situation. By reusing established characters rather than creating new ones, they can illustrate how they and thus the country has been changed by Brexit. It is only through such cultural  reactions that the stupidity of brexit can be articulated and  stopped, so we need much more things like this. The only thing I would change would be to have it on TV rather than the radio in order to reach a bigger audience, but there is time yet.

After a week of having to use  my Ipad as a Wifi hotspot, I am relieved to say that I am now  back online properly.  The  BT technician came this morning to set broadband up, and I’m now surfing the web as normal. It’s quite a relief: it got so bad yesterday that I couldn’t get online at all in the afternoon, which for me was very,  very frustrating.

Now that I have proper web access, I can catch up with what I’ve missed. I just watched the first episode of Sir  David Attenborough’s new program, Seven Worlds, One Planet, and all I can say   is, ”Wow!” I am, once again, in awe off Sir David and the programs he narrates. The subject was fascinating, the photography stunning. The episode focussed on Antartica  and the various ways animals  survive down there. Even watching it on my computer, the images were riveting and  I couldn’t help  being drawn into the various animals’ stories, such as that of a young bird chick struggling to get back into it’s mother’s nest.

But then, we should expect nothing less from  the programs of Sir David Attenborough. For all our lives, for almost seventy years, he has presented the best shows on television. My generation, and indeed my parent’s generation, grew up with him. I remember watching his  shows as a little boy and teenager living  with my parents and brothers; at uni I remember going to Steve and Chris’s to watch Life Of Mammals; I remember lounging on the sofa at Lyn’s watching some of  his great programs of the last decade; and now, here in my new home, his legacy and legend continues. He has been a  constant source of inspiration and fascination for the whole country, throughout our lives. Very few other public figures, apart, perhaps, for the Queen, can have the same sort of cultural cache. I  find that truly, truly remarkable.

You know that things really have got fucked up when the joke currently  calling himself the prime minister starts to use bots to post approving responses to his social media output. Presumably Johnson wants to counteract all the negative responses he gets to his Facebook posts,  but it doesn’t take a degree in media studies to tell all the nearly identical posts are produced by bots.

It appears that Bojo has announced he will delay Brexit, but only if MPs agree to hold a general election in december. While part of me suspects this could be some kind of trick, surely this is the best news we’ve had in a while: not only  is this another step towards Brexit’s ultimate and inevitable demise, but it also gives us the opportunity to get rid  of the jokes currently running the country.

When I was growing up I used to love the fields of cheshire. Every school day I was driven, in a taxi, the fourteen miles from Congleton to Winsford, a patchwork of fields stretching each side of the winding road into the distance. I also used to drive my powerchair up the lanes to Swetenham. I loved how tranquil the fields  looked, how they smelled in the peaceful country air. It’s the only thing I have really missed since moving to London: of course there are  plenty of wonderful  parks, but they aren’t really the same.

Today, however, I found something special. I was out on my usual stroll this afternoon when I decided to check out Eltham Palace. I  hadn’t really gone that way before, and I felt like a bit of exploration. What I  found, I must admit, amazed me: a beautiful 1930s house built onto a medieval tudor hall. It was  highly  romantic  and evocative, instantly transporting me back to the hot golden summers of the twenties and thirties. I half expected Ian Fleming, Earnest Hemingway  or (dare I say it) Mr. Toad to appear from somewhere.

The real treat for me, though, came when I went down the lane past  the house and gardens. It was ancient, completely untouched by the metropolis; fields, populated by grazing shire horses, stretched either side. For a few moments as I drove my powerchair along it, I was back in Cheshire on my way to school, or heading up the lanes to Swettenham.

I have woken up quite early today for some reason. It may be due to going to bed  so early yesterday, after a long, tiring day.  I’m still sorting things out in my new home, and most  of yesterday was spent trying to get my computer online. My new Wifi router will come on friday, so, long story short, I’m currently having to use my Ipad as a hotspot. It’s slow, but does the trick. Between that and 1001 other things  I need to sort out, I don’t think I’ll have much chance to write any good long blog entries for a few days. But don’t worry: my usual ill-informed ramblings will resume in due course.

This is my first blog entry from my new flat in Eltham, probably the first of many. I have finally moved. To be honest saying goodbye to Lyn earlier was bloody hard: having lived with her for nearly ten years, I am still very fond of her, but  parted on good terms, and it probably won’t be too long before we see each other again. For nw though, I really must thank  my parents for busting a gut to help me set up my new home; they have really been incredible. Thanks  to them, this place is already starting to feel like home: rather different to Lyn’s, but more like mine.

In the end, I decided to go up to Westminster yesterday. It was towards the end of the day and so I missed the main protest. Yet I felt I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. I got there just as most people were starting to go home, but there were still plenty of people there. The thing is, whenever I go up there, I always get so agitated and angry, I feel compelled to argue with every Leave campaigner I see. This issue makes me fly into uncontrollable rages: do these morons not care what Brexit will do to the country, or that those of us with disabilities stand to suffer particularly badly because of it? But then, from the looks of the pictures of the People’s Vote yesterday, I’m not the only one who feels so strongly about this. The question now is, how can the scumbags in parliament have the gall to pretend such protests and such anger does not exist?

I’ll probably not go to the big Remain march tomorrow. I know I  should, but these days I find I get so angry about politics that I just boil over and lose control. Besides, I have so much stuff to do here that I cannot afford to spend time going on political protests, as strongly as I feel about the issue. In a way, I feel like the country itself, on the verge of a huge change which it didn’t really ask for and about which it  is by no means sure. I can’t help thinking it’s all a complete mess.

No sensible person can now deny climate change is real, but where do you draw  the line between protesting to draw public  attention to it, and disrupting public transport and pissing commuters  off to attract media attention to one’s pressure group? If you ask me, the disruption on public transport in  London today had nothing to do with climate change – there are, after all,  far more efficient ways to protest – but everything to do with a pressure group made up of middle class privileged egotists feeling neglected and wanting to get their  faces on telly.

I took a roll up to the Olympic park late this afternoon, just to see what was going on there. I noticed quite a bit of building work in progress, so, getting home, I did a bit of Googling. I found what I came across very exciting: East Bank looks like a fantastic project, combining universities, museums, music and culture. If all goes to plan, that entire area looks like it has an exciting, vibrant future ahead of it, and I’m now wondering if I can somehow get involved as a writer and/or filmmaker.

I think the most amusing thing I can link to today is this story  in the Metro. A poll ITV ran asking viewers whether Piers Morgan should be fired over his intolerant views has backfired spectacularly: they voted  by 58% to  say he should be fired. As you might guess, the dipshit is not happy, claiming that the poll was somehow hijacked by leftist snowflakes. If you ask me, though, that scumbag had no business being on TV in the first place: ITV wanted him to spout all that fascist bullshit merely to get attention and ratings. They wanted to tap into a sense of neglect felt by a certain minority, left behind and confused by modern liberal social trends. It’s exactly the same minority Farage and Trump pander to. By spouting all this bigoted shit,  they tell people it’s ok to be reactionary morons who don’t have to engage with or accept any form of culture other than their own; it lets them off the intellectual hook. Sucking up to intolerant halfwits may attract certain viewers, but it’s something which should  have no place on British TV, and I’ll be pissed off if ITV don’t do as the poll asks and fires the piece of shit.

As far as I’m concerned there was no queen’s speech today; there was no queen’s speech because we don’t have a government I respect.  Instead, squatting in Downing street we have a total asshole; a proven liar whom we should all be ashamed was allowed to rise to the position he now holds. Besides, as I explained yesterday, I’m currently far too preoccupied to  concern myself with politics; and whenever I do these days I always get so  wound up it’s embarrassing, so it’s probably better to just ignore the entire farcical mess altogether.

If change is necessary and inevitable, why am I feeling like this? Tomorrow I  start the move over  to Eltham,  out from Lyn’s into my own place. I know it’s for the best: after ten years with Lyn, we both need our own space. She remains one of my best friends, and I agree with her that this change is what our friendship needs. Yet I currently feel very insecure, as though the securities I’ve been used to over  the last decade have now vanished. I know that, in time, I’ll re-establish them, but this evening, on the cusp of change, that task seems a daunting, frightening one. At the same time, I’m looking forward to having my own home, yet I’m worried about screwing it all  up.

I was strongly considering going up to the Roundhouse last Saturday, to see what I could observe of the attempt to set the record for the most gumbys in one place. In the end, though, I opted to stay home: as much as I adore Monty Python, I decided it wasn’t worth the effort  of dressing up and heading halfway across London, merely to participate in a gathering of  similarly clad fans. Had it been a larger  event, and had the other Python cast members other than just Terry Gilliam been there, then perhaps it would have been more enticing; but having been to their full reunion in 2014, I wasn’t that fussed. However, I am starting to regret my decision a little, having just come across this video of the event. It might not have been a full on reunion, but such events keep  Monty Python alive: from the  look of it, it was great fun. Now that we have  probably seen the last ever performance of the parrot sketch by it’s original creators, fan events like the one last saturday carry the Python spirit on. I should have gone. Then again, getting a knotted hanky to stay on my head might have been rather tricky.

Zark knows whether it’s authentic or not, but when I saw this earlier, browsing Facebook on the bus, I burst out laughing so loudly that I got a few concerned stares from my fellow passengers.

Two or three weeks ago, John mentioned going to see a show with Sir Ian McKellen: Naturally I leaped at the idea: I’ve been a bit  of a fan  of McKellen’s since he played  Gandalf. After that, though,  I put the idea to the back of my mind and concentrated on other things. But yesterday afternoon I got a message from J inviting me to meet him up at Green Park to see McKellen’s one man show. Busy though I am with the move, how could I refuse the opportunity to see one of my favourite actors?

I met my friend at the Harold Pinter Theatre. Going  in I didn’t quite know what to expect, but nonetheless I was in for a treat. McKellen gave a very, very impressive  solo performance, essentially talking on stage for three hours with a fifteen minute break, covering a range of topics from religion to sexuality. He is clearly a very intelligent man with a vast amount of experience. Of course, the parts I enjoyed most was when he spoke about Tolkien and the filming of The Lord Of The Rings: he opened the piece with a recounting of the bridge at Khazad Dum, and Gandalf’s fight with the Balrog. It was a treat for both the Tolkien geek and film buff in me. He went into quite a bit of detail, which I found fascinating.

He rounded off the evening with Shakespeare, reciting many, many soliloquies he knows by heart from almost all the plays. I found myself amazed by his memory, but also by his deep knowledge of the plays and their histories. While some might dismiss shows like the one I saw last  night as an old thespian’s ego trip, or his attempt to earn a bit of  cash, nonetheless  I feel   I gained a valuable insight into a great actor, his personality and life experience.

You’re probably quite relieved that it has been a while since I wrote anything about the Olympics or the 2012 opening ceremony on here. That’s just as  well; the moment has passed. Yet I can’t help noticing  the stark contrast in the social atmosphere between then and now: just seven years  ago, the country, and London especially, felt abuzz with friendliness and warmth. We were one country working together  to put on the  world’s greatest show. Now look at  us: it’s frightening how divided we are, with one side  protesting against the other. Of course I’m not the first person to note how angry people are becoming. I get stupidly angry as an effect of my cerebral palsy, but everyone else seems to be becoming just as pissed off over Brexit, It’s as if nobody can abide anyone holding a contrary view any more. Massive protests are held by either side,   both viewing the other with something approaching white hot hatred, hurling  insults and abuse. Think back to  2012 and the contrast in the atmosphere really is chilling. More to the point, though, we should all be very worried about where this is heading.

I think the best thing I can do on here today would be to direct everyone here. The new Picard trailer was released online yesterday,  but it’s far too exciting for me not to flag up. Of course,  there are already a shitload of fan reactions on the web, trying to break it down,  shot by shot. You’ll forgive me if I don’t try to emulate them, apart from saying that it’s good to see a few more of our old TNG friends returning too, alongside their captain. To be honest I’m going through a bit  of a dark time at the mo; I’m just glad the return of Jean-Luc Picard gives me something to look forward to.

Staying on the subject of Monty Python, how about this for a contemporary take on a classic.

I wonder what it would take for John Cleese and the two Ronnies (or anyone really) to perform such a sketch. I daresay  it would make an interesting comment on the current political state of affairs.

Today is a very auspicious  day in my opinion: today marks fifty years since Monty Python’s Flying Circus was first broadcast, an event which arguably  changed British  comedy  forever. Apart from an attempt to break the record for the most Gumbys gathered in one place, I haven’t seen much to mark this  anniversary – there don’t seem to be any programmes about Python on  tv tonight, for one. However, I think the best thing I can  do to mark the occasion would be to flag this outstanding article by my old friend Chris Flacket up.

While  I can’t say I agree with every point he makes (I think he goes slightly too far in the  explanation that not all intelligent people live in London) I have to say I feel a bit embarrassed by my old university friend’s  work. This is a proper, scholarly article of two to three thousand words which puts the superficial things I mostly spew on here to shame. It is quite a deep analysis of python, looking at both it’s history and structure. And like all good analysis, it leaves the reader even more interested than when one started. I hadn’t really thought, for example, about  Python’s relationship with the music industry, and about how, in a way, the comedy troupe grew to resemble a rock band, producing records and going on tours.

Chris, like me, is a Python fan. I’ll always count watching those guys live in 2014 as one of the greatest moments of my life. Reading Chris’ article/essay just now again put that evening in perspective. Imagine getting to see  a legendary rock band whose music you love, thought to have split up forever years ago, get  back together to perform virtually on your doorstep. It was quite, quite incredible: one  of those events which  demonstrate how awesome life can get. For me, for Chris and for countless other people, there  is something  about the humour of Python which sets it apart: it is very random and zany as well as having a weight of intelligence behind it. Yet there is also  something else: a humanity and empathy to it. Whether it’s to Always look on the bright side of life, how to arrange  flowers or what to wear when felling trees, Python has something to say about the human condition we could all learn from.

I can barely believe that today marks five years since I met  Sir Patrick Stewart (lucky I just checked my archive!) Time really does fly, and so much has happened since then, but I nonetheless still count  those few seconds with Sir Patrick, telling him about my MA, as the greatest moment of my life. Whenever I need to remind myself just how incredible life can get, I just look at this entry.

I just saw on bbc local news that, for the first time in the play’s 50 year history, the lead character of  A Day in the Death Of Joe Egg will be played by an actor with CP. I’m afraid to say this is another one  which has crept under my radar, but, according to the report, the role has always been taken by an able bodied actor, even though the character is supposed to have cerebral palsy. If so, then this news is certainly a step in the right direction, as well as giving me something else to  go and check out. The report also mentioned the  problem of so few actors with disabilities appearing on our stages and screens. With the actor, Storme Toolis, now drawing our attention to the issue, hopefully it can now start to be put right.

Not that I want to function as free advertising for them, but earlier on facebook I came across an ad for Monty Python Sings, a new album of Python’s songs, and I was pleased to see that it included Stephen Hawking singing The Galaxy Song. You might remember that Hawking did a version of the Galaxy song on his communication aid for the 2014 Python Reunion. That they’re now including his version on their new album seems to me really quite touching: it’s a catchy, upbeat song which also makes a comment on the human condition; to have Hawking  sing it seems quite an apt tribute to the  now late professor. He is still one of my rolemodels, and for the Python guys to choose to remember  him in this way seems to me very decent of them.

I think the best  thing I can do on here today would be  to direct everyone to this long overdue Guardian article.   At last someone has raised the issue of children’s books not having enough characters with disabilities: probably to draw attention to his most recent publication, David Baddiel has noted that, apart from a few exceptions  like Tiny Tim, children’s literature is almost  devoid of  characters with disabilities. This is something I’ve been saying for years: the best way to increase kids’ knowledge about people like myself (apart from inclusive education) would be to include positive disabled rolemodels in their literature.  As the article says,  though, the problem is, publishers are so often trapped by safety and convention that  they see doing so as a risk. I’m just relieved that at last a relatively well known writer has spoken up on this  issue; perhaps things will now start to change, and children’s literature will begin to reflect the diversity of modern society.