Anger at Westminster

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?

Oh, what a mess

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.

Less about climate, more about attention

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.

East Bank

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.

Viewers vote to fire Piers Morgan

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.

Queen’s speech. What queen’s speech?

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.

The eve of change

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 should have gone to the Roundhouse last Saturday

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.

An evening with Sir Ian McKellen

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.