I am really looking forward to watching David Attenborough’s new program, Life Story, at nine tonight. It is wonderful to see him still making natural history shows – if anyone deserves the title ‘national treasure’, Attenborough does. I’ll probably detail what I thought of it here tomorrow, although many, including the writer of this somewhat cynical, almost bitter Guardian article are predicting it will be the great man’s swan song. Who could blame him if it is, but after over sixty years of fascinating natural history television, it would certainly be a sad farewell.

I don’t think I have a choice other than to direct you here. Ukip is attempting to block a group of comedians criticising them from touring. Despite Nigel Farage insisting politicians should ”let people tell their jokes,” The Stop Ukip Comedy Tour has apparently been inundated with complaints from party supporters targeting venues. The hypocrisy is astounding: the week Ukip releases a single so racist and offensive it had to be withdrawn, causing them to complain vehemently about pc-driven censorship, they try to prevent people trying to draw attention to the folly of their policies. It would seem they only support freedom of speech if it is ukip speaking.

A couple of days ago, it was reported in the news that the government is going to try to crack down on internet trolling. They decided that abusing people over the internet would now be made criminal somehow. I was quite shocked when I heard this, as I see it as a very dangerous, unwise move. While I know many of us have encountered trolls and know how offensive they can be, the danger lies in how you define trolling and abuse. Name-calling and insulting are quite straightforward, but what about other forms of criticism? My fear is that this new law will be used to stop people attacking the government, holding them to account.

I know I can be as guilty as anyone of insulting people online, especially tory politician, but I would argue that that rage is a reflection of my frustration with their policies, not them personally. They must be held to account. But what if I or bloggers like me were termed internet trolls and hauled in front of a judge? It would be a great way for the government to prevent themselves being criticised – they would just have to term what write abusive to shut me or anyone like me up. What is certainly true is that I will have to be very careful about what I say online from now on, and that worries me very much indeed,

You may remember my entry describing how I tried to get tickets to see Michael Palin’s talk about the latest volume of his diaries, and how I was turned away because they said there was equipment in the wheelchair spaces. I was furious at the time,but shortly after I posted that entry I got an email from the theatre, apologising, explaining that the matter had been resolved and inviting me to buy tickets. That is how, last night, Lyn, I and Dominik got to see one of my all-time favourite people talking eloquently and evocatively about his life on television. As soon as I entered the space, I was taken instantly back to those warm, happy Sunday evenings with my parents when we used to watch his tales of places so far away, yet so tantalising that it made my feet itch with wanderlust. Palin is a man whose work I love; as soon as I heard his voice last night, that warmth and joy flooded back.

Rather appropriately for a talk about travel, I got there a few minutes late having decided to take the bus rather than the tube (a mistake I will not make again!). Fortunately I only missed a little, and when I got there Mr. Palin was already in full swing. (Having taken the overground, Lyn and Dom were already there). He was regaling the enthralled audience with a sequence of short stories from his travels, each accompanied by a picture projected on to a screen at the back of the stage. Unfortunately, I could only see half of that due to where I was sat, but nevermind – it was the man I had come to see. Some of them I knew from his books and tv programmes, while others I was unfamiliar with. He sometimes veered off on tangents, telling, for instance, how it was through an act of theft that Britain overtook brazil in rubber production. Did you know, too that before they asked palin to go around the world in eighty days, they asked noel edmunds. I found it fascinating, like watching some great pioneer tell of his adventures.

The second half of the evening concentrated on palin’s earlier life, and monty python. As a python fan, I loved this too, but, forgive me, I won’t even try to retell any of his stories. The history of python is long, fascinating and complex, but now I know where ‘ni’ came from. I found it utterly engrossing. As when I watched Monty Python Live two months ago, I feel so privileged to have been there last night.

Indeed, when I think about it, it astounds me how lucky I am: last night saw one of my all-time favourite people talk, a man whose work I have loved and been inspired by since I was small. Before then, I watched probably the last ever performance of the greatest comedy troupe ever. Possibly most importantly, just three weeks ago, I met and talked to sir Patrick Stewart: thinking about it, given my work on him in my masters and what that scene in First Contact means to me personally, I now think that meeting was one of the most significant, important and special events of my life. I just feel so lucky to have done all this, thanks largely to Lyn; it astounds me when I think about it.

Yet, last night saw probably my last big event of the year: now that Python, Star Trek and Palin have happened, I don’t have much more lined up. As Lyn reminded me last night, though, there will always be something more, something to find, something to look forward to.. she is right, of course. What that will be I don’t know, but after last night inspired by that fascinating man and his stories of far off places, my wanderlust, my urge to go out into the world and explore, has returned. My feet itch again.

I think I better flag this trailer fo ‘Unstoppables’ up. Having watched Lyn gradually compose the score for it all those months ago, it is truly brilliant to hear her work in the background. Plus, from what I can see, her music appears to capture the mood of the piece perfectly; my jaw dropped when I realised how well it fitted. I’m very, very proud of Lyn; it appears that I have my very own Jerry Goldsmith or Howard Shore. And, of course, it’s great to see the film itself doing so well.

Lyn is just setting up to start doing her online radio show. You know, she really seems to be in her element when she does it. Just as I use my blog to express myself to the outside world, Lyn expresses herself through music: the tracks she selects and the order in which she plays them say so much about how she is feeling. More to the point, I rarely see her as happy as when she is in her studio bashing out the tunes; her relationship with music seems to be far, far more profound than I ever thought possible in a human being. This, then, should be a wonderful afternoon of music. At the risk of repeating myself, tune in here

Lyn’s soft rock online radio station launched this evening, and is now broadcasting live. Tune in here! Tune in.

It has been a long, tiring yet awesome day. As I mention here, one of the projects I’m involved with over at the Rix centre is a film about the Apex choir, a group of singers whose members all have autism and/or learning difficulties. The group comes up from Cornwall the week after next, so today was a serious planning session.

I’m starting to get properly excited about it: the film we make can say so much, achieve so much. Like the Paraorchestra, it is all about breaking down barriers. Indeed, while I think the ethos behind them are slightly different, I cant help but compare or link the two, for I feel the same sense of potential with Apex that I did with the Paraorchestra – and look how awesome things turned out with them!

Lord Freud should resign or get kicked out over this. According to him, people with disabilities should be paid below the minimum wage – as little as two pounds per hour. Of course, the tories will try to put their spin on it, saying he was quoted out of context and so on, but it is still highly condescending. Intentionally or not, Freud has implied that people with disabilities are of less value as employees, and that we could be paid some derisory sum just to keep us happy. No wonder the crip community is outraged; we have fought long and hard against such patronising attitudes. If he or his party had any honour at all, news of his resignation or sacking will appear on this evening’s news bulletins.

While Lyn and I did not go, I’d just like to flag this new video up of the Paraorchestra in Qatar. As I’ve said before, Lyn chose to step back a bit from the Paraorchestra to concentrate on composition, although links still remain. They appear to have had a great time there, and performed some awesome gigs – they appear to be going from strength to strength, and seem to me to be becoming excellent ambassadors of the British disability community and British disability art across the world.

I was quite disturbed to just see this story in the lunchtime news. A mother who admitted killing her three young disabled children will not face murder charges. While I have a lot of sympathy for her, disabled or not, these kids could have gone on to have happy lives; by letting her go free, the court has given the green light to the murder of people with disabilities and has lessened the value of our lives. Moreover, I know mothers of disabled children – among the bravest, strongest people I’ve ever known – who would be horrified at this news. I may not know everything about this precise case, but on the face of it, I must say I’m frankly petrified.

I spoke to my parents earlier, who recommended I watch Marvellous. Over Facebook, Esther had suggested that I watch it too, noting that they used the outside of Crewe Alex as the old Stoke football stadium, so I thought I would give it a whirl. However, now that I have, I must say it is as problematic as I suspected it would be. It caused a few rumbles in the disability community, and I can now see why. It’s portrayal of a man with learning difficulties as a bungling yet lucky idiot – the Potteries’ answer to Forrest Gump, as it were – left a nasty taste in my mouth. Yes we need greater representation of people with disabilities on tv, but not in this cliche, patronising, laugh-at-the-lucky-fool way. I’ll probably rewatch it and read about it, in case I missed something, but for now I must say I found it very problematic indeed.

Don’t forget to tune in here at nine tonight!

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IT’S GONNA ROCK!

I am very worried indeed about the news we all woke up to this morning. The country seems to be falling for a con: it is being duped by a beer-drinking toff and a party of bigots, seeking to return us to the politics of the nineteen-fifties. We should all be appalled by everything UKIP stand for, from their blatantly xenophobic stance on Europe to their ultra-neoliberal stance on economics to their draconian stance on education and their ambition to restore the outdated unfair grammar and secondary-modern system. Yet people seem to be falling for such shallow selfishness in their droves, so that now we have one of them befouling the palace of Westminster. The question is, what do we, who value multiculturalism, who want to participate in something bigger than the state, we who see individualism and neoliberalism for the childish greed it is, we who see the value of every person in this country regardless of gender, skin colour or ability, we who cherish the NHS and welthfare state; what can we do to counter these unthinking heirs to Goebbels and their cheap, easy yet unthinking solutions? How do we stop this growing madness – what can we do other than watch the news in growing horror, hoping that everyone soon comes to their senses and sees UKIP for the xenophobic folly it is?

While I’m still looking for a new niche obsession, it might be time to revive one of my oldest. I just came across this report that the Ghostbusters franchise is being rebooted (indeed, what franchise isn’ these days?) Ghostbusters was one of my childhood obsessions: when I was four or five, I was mad about it, demanding the toys, the videos, Ghostbuster birthday cakes. At the time, I didn’t realise it was pastiche but took it deadly seriously. Of course, I eventually outgrew it, but now that a reboot is in the works – with an all female main cast, for some reason – it may be time to divert my attention away from Bond, Star Trek* and Lord of the Rings. It could be quite interesting to see what they do with it, how they handle it, and how the project evolves. Naturally, I’ll need to dig out the original two films for reference too, not having seen them in over twenty years. Joking aside, this could be an interesting little project. I note that there is already a website highlighting the film’s thirty year anniversary; it will be interesting to watch how this all plays out.

*Although yesterday I came across this interesting article pondering the future of the franchise, and it’s prospects.

I know that mental illness is very real. It is a serious issue; in many cases it is tragic. Yet, forgive me, but I am beginning to worry that it has began to supersede disability in the wider sense. That is to say, as an issue mental illness is taking more prominence; and those with physical conditions are beginning to get elbowed out of the disability rights movement we founded. Look at the Lib dem confidence, where mental illness is being pushed to the fore. I Suppose it’s fair enough – the mentally I’ll have rights to fight for too, certainly – yet I am worried that the voices of those with physical disabilities are at risk of being drowned out, our movement overtaken, not in any overt, conspiratorial sense, but just as a general trend.

When I first started blogging, I set myself a couple of rules: I told myself to blog at least once every couple of days, and to use pictures sparingly. I thought if I used too many pictures people would accuse e of being lazy, so I restricted myself to only using a picture once the last picture had disappeared off the bottom of the page (ie one picture every six entries). I broke that rule yesterday – what a naughty boy I am! Yet, as I see it, Ive been blogging regularly for over ten years when many blogs just last a few months, so I reckon I’m due a little leeway. Besides, what’s wrong with my blog becoming a tad more visual? – they were both pretty awesome images, you must agree. And after all, uni taught me all about the power of an image. Henceforth my new rule is that images can be used as much as I like, but I’ll try to include writing with them so I don’t get lazy.

Today I just want to flag Lyn’s new internet radio show up. Lyn Rock is on every Saturday from 9pm to 2am, and can be listened to here! Join us on a musical journey…

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Yesterday I decided to go to star trek London again. Mitch suggested going with his brother John, and I though I’d take the opportunity to make sure I hadn’t missed anything saturday. With any luck, I reasoned, there was a chance I could speak to Sir Patrick Stewart again. We got there quite late, and by then the convention was winding down; none of the cast members were there any more. i got to talk to a few people though, and teach John the Klingon word ”Qa’pla”. I also got to forfill another of my longest-held dreams – to sit in the captain’s chair, on the bridge of the Enterprise! I cannot tell you how happy I am with this image, with what happened this amazing weekend; it somehow makes me feel complete.

[quote=”Star trek generations”] Kirk: Captain of the Enterprise, huh?

Picard: That’s right.

Kirk: Close to retirement?

Picard: I’m not planning on it.

Kirk: Well let me tell you something. Don’t! Don’t let them promote you. Don’t let them transfer you. Don’t let them do *anything* that takes you off the bridge of that ship, because while you’re there… you can make a difference. [/quote]

Music

Life just keeps getting better and better, cooler and cooler: Lyn playing at the paralympic closing ceremony; going to see The cat Empire; watching Monty Python live. All these events are truly, truly awesome, but yesterday I think capped it all. To be honest I was about to suggest we head home, as we had ‘done’ the convention, spoken to the Klingons, seen the stalls. Lyn and paul were, at that point, outside the main convention hall drinking coffee playing with their Ipads, and I was flitting between them and the exhibition. It was getting late, so I thought I would head back in one last time to try to get just a glimpse of Sir Patrick Stewart. There was an autograph area along one side of the hall, where the cast members sat. Earlier in the day I had spoken to Tim Russ there, who had kindly autographed a photo of himself for me. But, having written and thought so much about him for seven years, I really wanted to meet sir Patrick.

He had been away from the area throughout the day, apparently giving talks. Yet that last time he was there. I told the staff that I wanted to meet him and why, showing them my thesis on my Ipad. That obviously impressed them, as after a few consultations with those in authority, I was escorted to the desk, skipping the queue; and there I met Sir Patrick Stewart.

My hands were shaking as I typed into my speech app, but I explained as quickly as I could who I was, about my masters and so on. I wanted to say so much but knew time was a constraint – there was a long queue behind me. I explained the basics to him, and about my relationship with the Ahab scene. He seemed to understand. I wished I’d brought a copy of my thesis with me for him to sign, or perhaps even keep, but I had thought actually meeting Sir Patrick would be so unlikely that it was not worth it. I also wished Lyn and Paul had been there to witness it, but alas. Yet it was a very special moment for me, having grown up watching him play Picard on tv, and then writing quite extensively about him for my masters. I wish, too, that I could have a photo or video of it, but both were prohibited. But at least I have the memory of our conversation, of our handshake, of Sir Patrick congratulating me for getting my masters; it is one I will cherish forever.

My hands shake as I type this, on our way home from Destination Star Trek london. About thirty minutes ago, my dream came true: having somehow blagged my way to the front of a long queue, I got to meet Sir Patrick Stewart. My fingers shook as I told him about my thesis, about the part about him, and how much it meant. I couldn’t show him much, but he seemed genuinely impressed, giving me time to type. He congratulated me heartily on my ‘outstanding achievement’. While I unfortunately couldn’t record the amazing moment with a photo or video, what just happened has made me happy beyond words. He seemed a genuinely nice guy, and I feel honoured to have shaken his hand. It feels as if something has been made complete.

Today I go with Lyn to my first official star trek convention. Believe it or not, despite a large part of my MA being about star trek, I’ve never been to a proper trek convention before. I’m very excited; I have a feeling that today will be another of those awesome, awesome days I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. Part of me is dying to meet Sir Patrick Stewart – Captain Picard himself – although I know that’s rather unlikely. I still want to show him my thesis. Anyway, I can’t wait – expect a full account of today’s events on here tomorrow!

No doubt most of us have seen it by now, but, staying with politics, I really have to flag this supreme piece of editing up. CaMoron’s conference Rap has gone viral in about 24 hours. I’m truly impressed with whoever made it; of course I agree with the sentiment, but viewed purely as a creative piece it is astounding, especially given that it was made so quickly.

I got all the way to New Cross before I convinced myself to stop being silly and turned back. But I had been all ready to go up there, to tory headquarters, and insist they leave office. The sight of CaMoron spouting lie after lie from that podium in Birmingham earlier had been too much; trying to tell the country that he and his party are decent human beings when their greed-motivated cuts lead to so much suffering. Thinking they had a right to laugh at those who did actually care. Portraying greed as good; conservatism as somehow altruistic. At one point I was shaking with rage, feeling angrier than I had ever felt in my life. I was heading up there to take direct action – those unelected shits were going!

Yet, halfway there, I realised it was pointless. What could I achieve? they would just ignore me. I got off the bus, crossed the road, and came home. I’d wanted to rid us al of the vermin currently inflicting their selfish policies upon us, but what could I have done? Fuck all, that’s what; and now I’m back I still feel furious, but I also feel utterly powerless.

I have just been watching the tory party conference screaming at the tv. How dare that collection of insults to humanity laugh when they are causing so much pain? how dare thy pat themselves on the back when their policies have driven so many to suicide? how dare they pretend they are acting altruistically when by lowering tax they have caused people to starve. How dare they be so arrogant to think that wealth just trickles down, when anyone with just a shred of humanity sees that such policies feed only the wealthy few? how dare they laugh at labour,who actually care about other people, when each and every one of those vermin is guilty of such greed selfishness and arrogance? That which Ahab had against the whale is now nothing compared to what I now have against this collection of liars and cheats and idiots. Day after day I see reports of the suffering they alone have caused. All hyperbole aside I truly hold what the tories are doing, in directly attacking the poorest groups in society, to be criminal, and I want this group of selfish, arrogant arseholes broken up.

Last night saw us at another outstanding Gus Glen gig at the Thai restaurant around the corner. I have rather fallen in love with those nights: they are fun, intimate little evenings with just Gus and his guitar (and ukelele) doing some of the classics. And of course he calls guests up too, including Lyn, who did a wonderful set last night. It’s only a small place – there could not have been more than fifteen people there last night – so everyone feels involved.

Indeed the highlight of my evening came at the very end, when Gus called Lyn up again to jam with him on Sweet Home Alabama. He knows I like that song, but I did not request it last night as I think it has started to annoy him. However, they played it just for me. I was thrilled! When it started, I suddenly felt the urge to do a Steve and join in. I got up, grabbed the spare microphone and started to sing along. What everyone thought about it I know not – fortunately there were very few people there at that point – but I felt awesome. It brought back so many memories.

After that it was time to go home. I’d had a great evening, and I think Lyn had fun too. Mind you, I got slightly told off when I put Sweet Home Alabama on again after we got in.

I am watching the news and I feel nothing. I am typing this sat on the sofa while watching the bbc news channel. They are of course discussing the new military action in Iraq, debating the complex politics and history of the situation, and I feel nothing. I don’t feel angry or upset, just blank. I have seen this before, and frankly no longer give a damn, either about the intricacies of it all, CaMoron’s motives, the possible outcomes, or anything. The situation might be dangerous, but I know my daily life won’t change: I’ll still get up in the morning, eat breakfast and zoom around London in my chair; Lyn will continue to compose; the sun will continue to rise. So let them have another war! Let them fight! Let them send more young men to die! It’s only one more in a string of such folly; a list which will be added to after this one, whether I listen or not, whether I object or not, whether I care or not. One folly leads to another then another. I will just carry on with my life, watching the news but feeling nothing.

Someone, who shall remain unnamed, last night posted this video link to my facebook page with the comment ”ooh I wonder if this could have a breathalyser function lol”. While a wheelchair-mounted system which tracks one’s position and other vital statistics may be a very good idea for some vulnerable people, I am at a loss to see how that comment applies to me…ahem!

I suppose I should be used to such patheticness by now, but it still comes as a shock. On Monday i read that Michael palin, one of my all time favourite people, is due to do a stage presentation of the latest volume of his diaries, Travelling To Work, in Shaftesbury avenue in October . At first i was uncertain whether or not to try to get tickets, but this morning I decided to throw caution to the wind. After all I have loved palin since I was little, and this show will apparently focus on the era surrounding Palin’s travel shows, the very thing which made me aware of him.

So off i se this morning. I know I could have tried to order online, but I kept just being directed to third party ticket websites. Besides, going up there meant I could make sure we got the two wheelchair spaces and two PA spaces we need.

Getting there was easy, as usual: the performance is at the palace theatre, just up the road from Westminster. I got the bus, and beat my way through the crowds, growling at Danny Alexander as I passed him. I rolled up to the box office and asked for two wheelchair spaces and two carer spaces for Michael Palin. I expected the least they could do was tell me that they were sold out – after all, it was rather close to the performance. But the reply I got was far more pathetic: the wheelchair spaces were taken, not by other wheelchair users, but by the sound desk. The sound desk! Have you ever heard anything so abysmal, so discriminatory.

I was about to complain, but bit my tongue, turned, and headed back. They promised to email me should the situation change, but I have to say I was pretty upset. I told myself to look on the bright side – we saw Monty Python Live two months ago, which should be enough. I had bought tickets for that almost a year in advance, so I could not be too miffed; things could not all go my way. Yet the excuse I was given just seemed so careless, so pathetic. It just seems unfair, especially given how much I would have loved to see Michael Palin in person.

UPDATE At about 4.30 today I received an email saying the situation had been resolved and my tickets had been reserved. hurrah! any criticism on m part is withdrawn.

Stealing a kiss, overlooking the city Before me is a great beauty.

Deep and subtle. Vast and wonderful.

It is a complex beauty that I behold atop Greenwich hill

Not obvious, but there to see.

Emphatically there! I see it clearly

As I steal a kiss overlooking the city.

I am having one of my squealy days today. Squealy days happen when I discover something I am particularly thrilled about, causing me, from time to time, to suddenly yelp spastically with glee. They are often after hearing rumours. I had one when I first heard that James bond would be somehow used in the Olympic opening ceremony; another when I got wind of Monty Python’s stage reunification. Both times, I was not sure whether the reports were any more than baseless rumours, so I knew I had to be cautious. Yet it was the prospect, the possibility, that thrilled me. And of course, they both turnedout to be true, and they both ended up being wonderful.

I’m having another day like that. Earlier, I came across another rumour, and for a trekkie like myself it is a pretty big one. Word has it that William Shatner is in talks to reprise his role as Kirk after twenty years. That is, for me, a thrilling prospect; I love the original Trek films, up to the ninth, and feel like something has been missing in my life since they stopped making them. After they ‘rebooted’ the franchise in 2007, it has not been the same. Moreover, given that most fans hated kirk’s rather unfitting death in generations, and we also hate the new timeline mess caused by the reboot, this could be an opportunity to resolve both in one. They could have shatner’s kirk restore the original timeline by sacrificing himself in a huge blaze of glory, giving him a more grandiose, more fitting end. that would seem the logical thing to do. I just hope they handle it properly.

I know I have to be cautious. It might fall through; the rumour might dissolve into thin air; it might turn out to be another poorly-written mess. After all, they have to come up with a believable way of bringing him back from the dead. Yet I currently have a personal maxim: if 007 can jump out of a helicopter with the queen, then surely anything can happen. Nothing can be ruled out; all things are possible. While I realise Happy and Glorious did not please everyone, it nevertheless redefined the limits of what is thinkable – it had the queen jumping out of a helicopter with 007, for zark’s sake! I once came across Bond ‘fans’ criticising it seemingly for the sake of being critical, but at the end of the day it was the ultimate confirmation of the epic status of 007 in our society: it was sleek, cool, and very, very Bondish. In my opinion it was a wonderful tribute to the Bond franchise and a wonderful success; and if one can succeed so can the other. Thus, for Shatner to sit in the captain’s chair as Kirk again is therefore certainly possible, and to see it happen, if done reasonably well, would please me and so many others, for it would feel like a return to something of our childhood, something lost for a long time, something good.

I’m not sure how it crept under my radar, but the film advertised here looks as if it might deserve closer inspection. This ‘refreshing look at disability and sexuality’ professes to detail the adventures of a girl with cerebral palsy going to university. From the looks of it, it might be reasonably well done, and I’d be interested to see how it compares with my own adventures from uni. Although the blurb on the website is typically vomit worthy (we ‘suffer’ with cp, etc) this may at last be the type of realistic disability-related drama I have been waiting for. I might add, too, that the title chimes with me, and in itself gives me cause for optimism: ”Margarita with a Straw” – awesome! Time, then, to find out how or where I can watch it.

It is not just the big events that I adore the city for. Yesterday was an hectic, awesome day: in the late morning my parents visited, and it was great to have a chat over coffee. It was lovely to see them, getting news of the family including my wonderful new nephew. Then later, my old friend charlotte came to visit, and, with her sister poppy and friend Emma (not the one from university), we met up at the Bermondsey Street Festival. To be honest I did not know what to expect as I took the tube up there, having said goodbye to my parents at the station, but it turned out to be pretty incredible: I love how London almost constantly throws up such cool little parties (although ‘little’ here is a relative term). There was all sorts going on, including lots and lots of music. Charlotte, Emma, poppy and I spent the afternoon dancing away, chatting a bit, and talking. It was just like old times; they even played a few sons we used to dance to at brandies, like Walk this Way. I wished I had brought Lyn with me, and we collectively vowed that, now we know what a cool gig it is, next year we’ll go early and I’ll bring L.

We did not stay too long, as C, as usual, had another party to go to. I wanted to get back a decent time too. Yet I was thrilled to have gone, and boogied with my old friends on the streets of Bermondsey. It was great to see them, have a chat and gossip, and it ended too soon. I’m now really looking forward to next year’s festival with any luck, maybe we could arrange for Lyn to do a set!

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Last night at about two I was woken by a sharp storm. I have rarely heard it rain so hard; I began to worry that the roof would leak. It struck me as rather an apt omen for stormy things to come. This morning, however, I turned on my computer to see that Scotland had voted No, and that the union would stay together. I should probably be happy: after all I oppose the whole idea of borders and nations, and have expressed my opposition to nationalism of all kinds on here before. Yet part of me regrets the decision the Scots made: the status quo will now remain in place, and Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling have ironically helped CaMoron keep his job. Thus I see advantages and disadvantages. In fact I feel quite torn over the entire affair, especially now English nationalists like Farage have started to use the outcome to their advantage. The only thing I can do, however, is sit back and watch how things now unfold. The sky may have cleared, and the voting may be over, yet I suspect even bigger storms may now have started to brew.

Today should be interesting – all eyes point north. It occurred to me late yesterday afternoon that my attitude towards the Scottish Referendum had been somewhat askew: I still support a no vote as I favour unity, and still think having a Scottish influence in the UK helps us all. Yet a yes vote has it’s definite advantages, as it will stir up the status quo sending shockwaves through the establishment. People will demand more control over the regions. One thing is certain: a Yes vote means CaMoron will have to go. Win! Thus either way things stand to become very interesting indeed. Time, then, to turn on the news, perhaps get a few beers in for later, and wait for the results.

I’m in two minds about this. NASA has announced it’s intention to resume manned spaceflght. That is surely something to be welcomed, and presumably it will be designing a replacement for the shuttle somewhere down the line. What I’m not so sure about is it’ intention to use private firms to help it do so. Of course, talent and expertise can crop up in any sector, but everyone knows that private industry cuts corners for profit, and the idea that competition leads to excellence is a myth. So while this is promising news from NASA, I just hope their new space ships aren’t going to be laden with McDonald’s logos, and turn out to be as flimsy as their burgers.

I went up to stratford this afternoon, wanting to take my mind off politics for a while and wanting too to start buying gifts for certain upcoming midwinter festivals. It was a spur of the moment decision. Stratford strikes me as an amazing place: not so very long ago it was a building site, but it is now a maelstrom of modern shops, a beautiful park, rivers, and of course the olympic stadium and associated venues. Yet it is also a place I associate with amazing things: just a few weeks ago, Lyn played a set there; and before that it was the site of the awesomeness of the olympics and paralympics, where 007 met the queen, and where the paraorchestra played, and where so much incredible stuff happened. Moreover, to get there, I have to pass the o2 arena, where just a few weeks ago we saw Python play, something so special to me that I can’t put into words how lucky I feel to have been there.

It occurs to me that these two amazing places are now semi-sacred for me. In a way they have taken on a form of secular hallowdness: they are places in which events took place which are so special, so unique that I count them as highlights of my life. I’ll thus probably always relish going back to both. Reflecting on this, though, I wondered if there are other places like that for me – maybe the old campus at Alsager could be one. Does everyone have places of such intense, happy memories I wonder.

I know I said a couple of entries ago that I thought it best to stay clear of the debate in Scotland, but I find myself becoming more and more agitated by it. The ‘Yes’ campaign is, if I’m honest, really starting to piss me off. I better just come out with it: for all their talk of fairness and equality, I have never seen a more oppressive, selfish group. They claim to be of the left, but the last time I checked, leftism was about unity and caring for all: they just propose to build their own state, leaving the rest of us to suffer. That’s not socialism but fascism. But when you put this obvious truth to any of them, they act all offended and deny their campaign has anything to do with nationalism. Bull; Salmond et al are motivated by the same nationalistic forces as Farage. If that wasn’t the case, if they truly cared about fairness and equality for all, they’d be working to change the government at westminster. The problems faced in scotland are problems faced here too. Thus this has nothing to do with creating a fairer society: what is fair about dividing a country? What is fair about abandoning the british to the tories – for that is what they are doing. What is fair or democratic about imposing your will on others? About only caring about the scots? And, to add insult to injury, Salmond cries foul when the bbc point out his shortcomings. He accuses CaMoron of paying businesses to support better together, as if they aren’t allowed their own opinions. One of their supporters had the cheek to invoke Mandella, as if the british were oppressing them, as if they were fighting for freedom and not division. I find such conduct unfair and inappropriate, even hurtful, but if you put any of this to any of them, you are made to feel like you’re the oppressive nationalist, supporting the tory stance. I don’t want to force views on anyone or make anyone do anything they didn’t want to; I just want to remain one unified, democratic people. Salmond just wants to divide us, building his own state for the scottish people while leaving the rest of us to rot. The disingenuousness of this megalomaniac sickens me.

It’s obvious what I’m supposed to write on here today. I’m supposed to utterly condemn the murder of David Haines, and write about barbaric those who murdered him are. That would be the topic any blogger would be expected to choose on a day like this. Yet – an this is pure speculation – that obviousness makes me reflect on how convenient such a news story is for a prime minister in dire straights. CaMoron is on the ropes, down in the polls; on thursday he faces the prospect of presiding over the break-up of the union. How convenient that he can now stand in Downing Street looking Prime Ministerial and leaderly, and point towards a ‘brutal enemy’ capable of utter savagery, who threaten us blah blah blah. Pure speculation I know, and the two events are probably totally unlinked; yet the timing must raise my cynical eyebrow. After all, such a crisis serves the Tories, currently so troubled, perfectly. Is the dog being wagged?

Just a note to say that I have decided not to comment on the Scottish refetrendum for now. It’s not as though I don’t feel strongly about it, because I do. The problem is I am utterly conflicted: part of me wants the union to stay together, and thinks that it would be an act of abandonment if scos voted yes. We English would be left to the Tories. Yet I also know that Scotland has a right to govern itself and we have no authority to expect it to live under governments it did not elect. I am therefore torn completely in two over the issue, and so i better stay out of it, while still waiting for next weeks result with baited breath.