I keep looking at the photos of graduation with glee. What happened on Friday was one of the greatest moments of my life, marking a achievement I’m unlikely to soon top. I’m very proud indeed of my masters. University, in a way, made me who I am, not only by encouraging me to do my best work but by bringing me out of my shell socially, by making me independent. Had I not been to university, I would not have dared move down here with Lyn: thus it was a vital part of my growth, as it is for many young adults.

I only went to uni, of course, because of the funding systems in place ten years ago. Last night on Newsnight, I saw how the Tories plan to change the student loan system so that students get their loans from the universities themselves rather than the treasury. They argue that it will encourage institutions to make sure their graduates get good jobs so they can pay off their debt – they will need to take a more active role in students’ future careers. Thus the prick David Willets was acting as if it was a great idea. The obvious problem is, it will mean that universities will only take on students they know are likely to get good jobs; they would only accept the ablest of students or those from wealthy families. In short it is just another tory scheme to make sure wealth and education stays only in the hands of the few. Under this system, any university would just take one look at a prospective student with a disability and turn him away – they would not be a safe bet. After all, due to several factors I’m still not earning money. Under this disgrace of a government, then, I would never have gone to uni; I’d probably still be at home with my parents, wasting away. The old system left payment to one side, letting all flourish; this new system will change the emphasis, forcing universities to be more cautious, meaning students like me will be denied opportunities they need and deserve.

I have another great night to report, albeit one quite different to the Pythonic awesomeness of last sunday. Last night saw another great Gus gig at the local Thai restaurant, possibly the best one yet. While Gus did most of his usual songs to his usual high standard, including a top-notch rendition of Baker Street, for the first time last night he and Lyn were able to jam due to Lyn’s new app I mentioned here. Watching that was incredible: I feel slightly guilty to admit that I was surprised how good lyn was, and by that I mean she was smegging awesome! Her riffs were amazing: I tried to get a video of it, but unfortunately I was too slow. Yet it had to be seen to be believed, and I instantly wanted more when it ended. Armed with her new improvisational app, Lyn can become the ipad equivalent of Carlos Santana! To wrap the gig up, she and gus played Sweet Home Alabama (my request) and I walked home with Lyn and Mitchel thrilled and astounded. L has a nice habit of surprising me – she has one or two things in the pipeline, so I wonder what she’ll come up with next. Either way, I just want to see her jam more.

My brothers moan about my blog-verse

But my rhymes could be better…and worse! I’d like to see them try typing something every day looking for something relevant and interesting to say.

I like to keep it vibrant in both poetry and prose

And if my rhymes are stretched I guess it shows.

Yet I hope someone will find my lines quirky

They’re just my attempt to keep my page perky

So please tolerate my poetry guys – I try my best

Even if the rhyming couplets are easily guessed.

Yesterday saw me graduate my masters. It was a very emotional day for me, I must say: I am very proud indeed of my achievement of course, but yesterday i bade a final goodbye to mmu, the university I owe so much to. Although I finished writing my thesis in London, I was enrolled there for a full ten years, so it felt like the final paragraph of a long, glorious and pivotal chapter in my life. My years as a student have been wonderful, but yesterday as Dad pushed me across the stage of Bridgewater hall for a second time, they came to an end.

Lyn and I are currently on our way back to London having spent two nights in Manchester. Last night after the ceremony we has a wonderful family meal where I felt like the star of the show. I have never felt prouder than sat at the head of that table, Lyn beside me. It has already been an awesome weekend, and it’s only Saturday morning.

I’m afraid I don’t feel I can write much about last night’s commonwealth games opening ceremony in Glasgow. It’s not that it was bad (although there were a few dodgy song lyrics), it’s just that I found it uninspiring. I found nothing to get my teeth into, nothing I can explore on here at any length. That is a shame as it had so much potential, even with the reduced budget it had; yet nothing stood out and it was all very normal, apart from the fact that it seemed to be confusing itself with a fundraising telethon. It was just a few songs and that’s about it. I must say it left me slightly disappointed. Oh well – maybe the closing ceremony will give me more to write about.

Far be it for me to preempt the content of tonight’s opening ceremony up in Glasgow, but I cannot help observing a few things. It seems to me that comparisons with the opening ceremony of London 2012 will be inevitable, so much so that I wonder whether they could reference it somehow. They probably won’t, of course, as they will want a unique, original product. Yet, given the rivalry between Scotland and England, as well as the Scottish sense of humour, will they be tempted? Could they indeed reference the meeting of bond and the queen. You might think this unlikely, but it could be interesting: the first person to play Bond was, of course, Sean Connery, who is now a staunch supporter of Scottish Independence; if they made something of that, somehow involving Connery to reference both the olympic ceremony, the monarchy, the bond franchise and the referendum, then that has the potential to be fascinating, both artistically and politically. These are just my musings, though: we will have to wait till tonight to see what they actually do; but given Scottish humour and attitudes, could such a dig at London 2012 be on the cards?

A strange, almost eerie, coincidence recently occurred to me. It’s nothing much, and I’m sure it could just be dismissed as just a wierd twist of fate, but to me it begs to be noted simply for the record. As I am sure we all know, tomorrow sees the beginning of the commonwealth games up in Glasgow. Back in 1998, my class back at school took part in a wheelchair display competition. That year, they were bidding for the commonwealth games to be held in Manchester, so our teacher chose to base our display on that, choreographing it to Chariots of fire. We had already sailed through the heats in Withenshaw with a display based on The Full Monty. The odd coincidence is the main competition was in Glasgow.

I can’t help reflecting on that simple duality. It somehow gives me a greater link to tomorrow’s games. It forces me to think back sixteen years, to the weekend my friends and I visited Glasgow. We had a great time. I even won the single disco event! Yet I can’t reflect too on how so many of those guys I went up there with have since passed away, giving the realisation of this coincidence a poigniency I can’t help but notice. Thus tomorrow’s games take me back to an awesome weekend, but one that now seems a lifetime ago in an era long passed.

After last night, I will forever be able to say ‘I was there!’ I was there at the O2 last night; I was there the night Michael Palin sang the lumberjack song, probably for the last time; I was there the night they did The Spanish inquisition; the night John Cleese needed prompting slightly during the parrot sketch. I was there, last night with Lyn, watching these five men whose comedy I love, seemingly bid farewell. I was there when they sang ‘Always look on the Bright side of Life’, a tear in my eye, having left it for the encore and just when we were starting to worry that they would not do it. I was there, and I feel very privileged indeed to now be able to say that.

In short, last night was possibly the greatest of my life. To have seen python live feels incredible. While they did one or two things I was unfamiliar with, the evening was mostly about nostalgia, so they stuck to the old classics. I was happy with that, as were, I think, the rest of the fifteen-thousand strong audience. But they put in some new stuff too. The greatest bit of all, the bit I adored and which I now disparately want to see again, the bit that ranks alongside if not indeed surpasses Bond and the queen in terms of epic greatness, was a pre-recorded piece where Brian Cox gets pedantic about the lyrics to The Galaxy Song, and is then chased and run over by Stephen Hawking, who then sings the song through his communication aid. Professor Hawking was then pointed out to be in the audience. It was the greatest, most brilliant thing ever, especially for a Hawking fan.

What more can I say? I won’t even try to go into detail about everything that happened, as I fear it would loose something in translation. Yet I suspect I’ll be smiling over my memories of last night for some time, if not the rest of my life. To have seen these funniest of men perform again, after so long and after so many had thought it impossible, was a great, great thing. I am so lucky. I feel sad that it is now passed, of course, but happy and privileged to have seen it. But also it inspires me, for it makes me wonder: if such great things can happen, where will my life in this great city with my great girlfriend take me next?

I might be up slightly early for a Sunday, but the truth is I feel like a kid on christmas morning. Today’s the big day: tonight we go to see Monty Python Live. I grew up loving Python, having come to it via Michael Palin and his travel shows, so to have a chance to see them perform together after so long, probably in their last ever performance, virtually on my doorstep, is quite incredible. I can’t believe my luck. I’m counting down the hours. Expect a full review/account on here tomorrow.

I just might have some reasonably good news to direct you to here. The BBC has pledged to quadruple the number of disabled people it puts on TV by 2017 as part of a radical package of measures across the corporation. That might mean that, at last, us crips will get the visibility we need in order to combat the myths and stereotypes we face every day. After all, what better way is here to combat prejudice than to educate people by exposing them to a community that is largely hidden and invisible? While I think the 2012 paralympics started the push towards a greater acceptance of disabled people, there is a lot of work still to do: one of the myths we certainly still need to combat is the one that says we’re all itching to end our lives, which is why I, like many disabled people, worry about today’s debate in the Lord’s. Hopefully this step by the bbc might help to redress that – it is high time we had some happy, outgoing disabled people on television, who don’t overtly draw attention to their disabilities but who just get on with life like anyone else.

Gove’s gone, but May remains

Along with so many other tory pains Inflicting upon us their vindictive views

(half of which aren’t in the news).

So while the reshuffle grabbed the headlines

Think about what’s not in the guardian and times

It does not matter who does what

as blame lies with the whole unelected lot.

Could someone please explain something to me as I genuinely don’t understand: how can lowering tax rates at a time when funding to the wealthfare state is being cut possibly be something to be proud of? Surely any prime minister who cared about those who need a helping hand in society would keep tax up so he could fund social services properly. Yet CaMoron says he is proud of lowering tax, speaking as if it was something laudable. I really do not understand his way of thinking: to me, the logical thing to do would be to put tax up for those with the highest pay; that emphasises the fact that we all live a one community, and should care for each other. Instead, the way the tories lower tax surely presupposes and legitimises a everyone for himself mindset, where greed is valued over a sense of community, where people hoard money while others are left to starve and suffer. Of course, their argument is that lower taxes encourage people to work more, so the government’s income actually increases; yet, even if that were true and not a guilt-placating fiction, it surely still supports an essentially selfish worldview. I genuinely don’t understand this way of thinking – am I missing something? How can anyone perceive that mindset as noble? Can someone explain this to me.

The poor old beeb can’t win: conservatives accuse it of being ‘red’, while those on the left think it panders to the tories, refusing to cover the recent anti-government protests. In relation to the middle east, palestinians accuse it of being ‘zionist’ while israelis say it is anti-semitic. As for myself, I think the bbc is, by and large, the most objective information source we have, impartial insofar as any source can be said to be impartial. One of the biggest lessons my ten years as an academic taught me, apart from to keep trying until I get there, is the importance of well-referenced materials and peer reviewed, respected authorities. Thus, it really got on my nerves when, this morning, I came across a piece of tripe about how Israel plans to dominate the entire middle east. Now, what the Israelis are currently doing is obviously completely out of order, and was interested to read how Professor Hawking has chosen to boycott israeli science as a justifiable reaction to their aggression. But that does not mean we can conclude that israel wants to conquer the entire middle east. When I came across this, then, I stated it to be the blatant bulshit it obviously is; yet the guy who posted it was having none of it. He dismissed the bbc as ‘zionist’ when I linked to it’s timeline of israeli history, yet insisted all sorts of unsubstantiated blog entries supporting his wild conspiracy theories were accurate. Any academic knows the first thing you should do is look at where a text comes from, who it cites and who wrote it. I suppose that is the danger of web-based debates.

Of course, you could dismiss all this, and point out that I have better things to do than talk to ill-informed idiots on the web; but what interests me is that it relates to the debate I touched upon the other day: how do we know what is real, what constitutes reality, who can we trust, and can anyone be truly objective? That debate is much more profound, and one should always be aware of it. It’s particularly interesting when it comes to the netherworld of the web, where only opinion, rather than fact, can be said to exist; that’s why I use sources firmly established offline and on, such as the bbc, and try not to just listen to one de of a debate. The danger comes when one sides completely with one viewpoint, dismissing all others, as the chap I encountered earlier was doing.

Every now and again, it hits me just how incredible Lyn is, and I am suddenly reminded how lucky I am to be her partner. I had such a moment last night: we were in Swindon, at an event called music alive, part of ‘Our Big Gig’. Run by Debbie, a friend of Lyn’s from her Drake days, it was an event focussing on music and disability. Debbie had invited Lyn to run a workshop and, in the evening, perform a few of her tracks. As usual, I just came along for the ride, not really expecting to do much.

You see, I have never thought of myself as particularly musical. Of course I like listening to music as much as anyone else, but I have never gone further into creating it. Thus I did not think I would participate much yesterday. But then something truly awesome happened: in the afternoon, Lyn was in a jam session with a guy on guitar and dominik drumming. Debbie had given Lyn a new app which allows her to improvise, which she was having fun with. The trio were just jamming, riffing off each other, when all of a sudden i decided to join in. I picked up a drum stick and started to drum along, like i used to with my brother. I was nervous about spoiling it at first, but then I really got into it. I suddenly felt alive. I then decided to go to the piano, pressing a key at a time, by turns responding to and controlling the rhythm. It was incredible.

There was even better to come, though. Later in the evening, there was a small concert, where three or four groups, Lyn included, would perform. I was just expecting to watch, but inspired by the afternoons jam session, Debbie had other ideas, asking me to join inn on the piano. As before I was nervous about spoiling it, but the afternoon jam had been so much fun I was looking forward to it. What followed was one of the best moments of my life. Our jam lasted fifteen minutes at least, our rhythms lifting and diving and weaving; I have rarely felt so alive so joyful, so child like. The best part, though, was the fact I was playing with Lyn: at last i was making music with her, helping her do her thing. We were creating something together, harmonious and one. It was a moment of musical bliss, and when it ended it left me craving more.

And suddenly, like a diver rising through the water’s surface into clear air

Through the window concrete gives way to green fields,

And the train takes us west, beyond the metropolis, Into the rolling beauty of Southern England.

And as much as the maelstrom city fascinates me

It feels like something has suddenly been made right;

As if, in the England i grew up in

I can breathe again.

Lyn has been getting into the ‘double slit experiment’ recently. At first I was a little dismissive, but a couple of evenings ago, she showed some some youtube videos on it, and how the presence of an observer seems to effect the result. I’ve been puzzling over it all day, watching apparently well-founded things like this. can that be true, and can things exist only insofar as someone is there to observe them? I’m now very curious indeed: the more I look, the more puzzling things seem, and what I assumed was baseless speculation seems more and more well-founded. Can reality really be a hologram, existing only when we observe it?

I suppose this theory really appeals to me – after all, I try to be a postmodern sort of guy – but it is a bit of a mind-fuck…..that is, assuming my mind isn’t a hologram.

Seven Up!

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Sorry to my Brazilian friends and relatives, but having been stunned to see last nights score on the news this morning, I couldn’t resist.

I think I’ll just flag this website up tonight. It is the website of Apex, a choir made up of people with Autism. They are an interesting group and have some awesome stuff on their playlist. I’ve been listening to them because the Rix centre is currently doing quite a major project with them, one facet of which is making a film. In my first major session of film editing, I began to help edit it today: I was given the rather slow, laborious task of going through, watching and labelling clips ready for ordering. Hardly glamorous, but vital, and I’m thrilled to do it – it’s a proper task on a proper film. I’m really looking forward to getting into this, working with the guys from both Rix and Apex, and seeing how it all turns out.

Last night was rather cool. I was anticipating a nice, lazy, relaxing sunday at home in front of the tennis and Skyping my parents, but at about lunchtime I got a message from Dom. It was his birthday and he and a few of his friends were having a get-together in a park near Lewisham – he wondered if I wanted to come. I was in two minds about it at first, as the thought of a chilled out evening on the sofa sounded appealing; but Dom’s a good mate, and I love a good knees-up.

Getting there was easy now I have my Ipad. The problem was I found it barren of Dom and his mates. Then, as always happens, just when I was starting to worry they showed up. Almost immediately they started setting up a ‘slack line’ – a relative of the tight-rope – between two trees, and laying out food and drink. Pretty soon there was quite a party going, with people talking, playing music, and doing all kinds if circus skills. I knew a few of the people there through Dom, and had some pretty interesting conversations. Then, at about eleven, Dom walked me to the bus stop home: it had been an epic night, but I was getting cold and tired, and I was conscious that I have things to do today. And as for my relaxing evening on the sofa, that is definitely the plan for tonight.

I just came across this interesting channel four piece: ”’More than two-thirds of people believe the 2012 Paralympics improved attitudes towards disabled people, a survey finds though the opinions of disabled and non-disabled people varies.” That may certainly be true – it definitely increased our profiles, and I have noticed an ever-so-slight rise in the number of cripples see on tv. However, while that might be a good thing, under the tories we are more persecuted than ever. As a community we gave the country a fantastic paralympic games, only to find ourselves punished and persecuted by the Tories and their cuts. I note that yesterday’s protest received absolutely no coverage in the mainstream media – maybe CaMoron et al had it surpressed, not wanting to be exposed as the hurtful, vindictive bastards they are. Indeed, the tory supporting press in now more eager than ever to portray us all as work-shy scroungers. So while the paralympics may have been a boon, the progress they made has been all but undone by the government.

It has been an awesome afternoon. I am just on my way home from a DPAC event: they chose Independence Day to protest against the closure of the independent living fund. While niether Lyn nor I receive ILF – our support system is a bit complecated – i see it as vital that I show solidarity. Disabled people need to unite against the cuts: cuts which, one way or another effect us all; cuts imposed by a Tory government which does not care who it hurts. Indeed this afternoon a reply from Esther McVey was read out and never have I heard a more arrogant and condescending piece of writing. Her patronising ‘we know best’ attitude was sickening. She implied institutions were suitable for some.

Thus I return home hot and angry. Yet I also feel a deep pride: pride for my fellow protesters, who united to fight against this opression; and who, briefly this afternoon, blocked a road and brought parliament square to a standstill!

As someone still fairly interested in language, old language and etymologies, I’d just like to flag this bbc article up. While it does not go very deeply into the subject, it’s a quite interesting overview of some of the Scottish words being used by both of the yes and no camps. As the article itself states, such words are used in order to show people the personal us and them viewpoints, and to reveal a sense of belonging and community. It is interesting, too, how language has become central to this debate: it’s almost like a weapon on itself, used by speakers to show how Scottish they are. Some of these words are ancient, and quite foreign to me down here; I’m interested in the role such language plays to create barriers or communities – it’s quite Lacanian in a way, but also highly political and indeed tribal. Anyway, before I start to blather on, I’ll let you go read.

Yesterday I was watching an interview with a man from the snp, and I found myself agreeing with most of what he had to say. I think their stance on trident is a good, valid one, and I definitely prefer their policies on welfare to those of the tories. The thing is, while he was outlining problems faced on both sides of the boarder, he only wanted to solve the north of it. We need to work together, as one people, to get ourselves out of this Tory-dug hole. Instead, reasoning that most Scots voted Labour or snp in the last election, the snp want to reinvoke the ancient border and care only about themselves rather than seeing themselves as part of a bigger whole and combatting our problems as one. Their stance is a selfish one, for if Scotland breaks away, Labour will loose seats in Scotland and we down here will have a perpetual winter of tory rule. The scots might be okay, but they would have left us to suffer.

The problem is a rhetorical one: who should one care for, and what defines ‘us’? The snp just see themselves as scottish, so they just seek to do what is best for Scotland. This ignores the fact they are part of a bigger group of people – Britain, and indeed europe – whom they could work with to improve all our lives. They use the same right-wing logic as ukip: they dislike the rest of the group, think they don’t represent their views and therefore want to break away. It’s like Greenwich and Woolwich wanting to break away from London because they are Labour areas and London is tory-controlled. Democracy, liberalism and socialism all mean working together for the good of all, not putting up barriers because you disagree or dislike what others say; it’s about seeing oneself as part of one big group, equal to all, where everyone can contribute regardless of where one lives. It is a case of how you perceive yourself, and the snp want scots to see themselves as separate and different, as ukip do the brits; and therein lies the folly.

I am sitting on a train platform, homeward bound

Where the woman i love waits.

It has been a long, busy day at Rix

And it occurs to me, as I start wondering about dinner

That this is normal.

The weariness I feel now is, in this moment

Felt too by countless others in this tired old city..

I am like any other Londoner, returning home after a long day

As Londoners have done for decades…and centuries

And realising that I am now like any other anonymous inhabitant of the metropolis

Feels great.

I just have a small observation to record tonight: I was watching the Murray match earlier, when something slightly troubling happened. The camera focussed at one stage on two girls in the crowd, both with Scottish flags painted on their faces, and, possibly for the first time, I wondered whether that had been an overtly political act. Of course, people from all countries have always painted their cheeks like that on on such occasions; those women had every right to do so. And yet, with the referendum coming up, part of me felt it was a political statement, or a show of animosity to us English. I have no idea what their intention was – the girls probably just wanted to support Murray – nor where my feeling came from. In fact I don’t know what my feeling was: concern mixed with, I fear, a kind of resentment. I don’t fully understand where it came from. The fact that I felt such a pang of concern worries me. Could we already be starting to divide? Above all, it already feels like a wedge is being driven between the peoples of this island, giving rise to my suspicions, and that is what I resent the most.

I suppose I have fairly contradictory feelings about the monarchy. I know how I should feel as a liberal leftie: it is an outdated, expensive and undemocratic institution. Yet part of me, I must admit, has a soft spot for good old Liz; as I wrote here, her entrance at the 2012 olympic opening ceremony increased my respect or her. This institution is part of this country’s identity, and in general I see no real harm in it. However, that is provided it keeps to it’s place and does not interfere with how the country is really run. That is why I got a bit angry when I saw this story this morning: for charles to try to influence government policy on something as important as education simply by virtue of his birthright is utterly wrong. He thinks he should have power because he is a member of a certain family. Moreover, he wants a return to an education system which reinforces class devisions. I’m sorry, but someone should put charles in his place. He can keep his pretences and fictions as long as he does not overstep the mark and assume powers he should not have in a democracy; many more stories like this and I’ll think about becoming a republican.

It is now clear that the unelected cretin currently calling himself Prime Minister is putting his own selfish aims before the interests of the country. All thinking people recognise that it is vital that we stay part of the EU, in order that we may work with our neighbours to build a better future. Instead, CaMpron has seized upon the current european election – merely a formality to everyone else – in order to show how strong and decisive he is in ‘standing up to Europe’. In other words, scared of those foolish and simple enough to agree with Farage, he is pandering to ukip-voting morons rather than doing what is best for the county and for humanity. We, as people capable of independent thought, who see the value of multicultural society and cooperation, who see state barriers as the ephemeral lines on the map they are, and who see the folly of Camoron’s short-sighted, short-term neoliberal nationalism, should be up in arms demanding his resignation. He is jeopardising the european project in favour of nineteenth century statism and devision. We urgently need to fight back against the wave of xenophobia dishonestly calling itself euroskepticism currently sweeping the country, an to out ukip as the bigots they are.

I am currently sat outside the gate of charlton house garden. It’s normally open, but tonight, because of the filming, it is firmly shut. Beyond it is a hive of activity: cast in all kinds of costumes, dressed as if for a garden party. I am told Liz Hurley is around somewhere, playing the queen. Thousands of pounds worth of equipment is being wheeled about. It’s quite a surreal sight, if you think about it. The Americans seem fascinated by our royal family – ironic after they fought so hard to ge rid of them – that here they are in charlton making films about them. I can even see guys dressed as beefeaters. It strikes me as a bizarre, fascinating sight, especially given that it’s happening on my doorstep.

My usual Wednesday lunchtime yell at the tv was slightly worse than usual this week. Why do we put up with this? why should the people of this county have to put up with an unellected tory piece of shit lying from the dispatch box every wednesday, arrogantly batting away the very serious questions put to him as if they did not matter? It is now clear that CaMoron knowingly employed a criminal on his staff, yet he seems to think he is above the law and should be at liberty to employ who he pleases. His attempt to pin the blame on the civil service is an insult to our intelligence: the buck stops with Cameron. He owes us his immediate resignation and an apology for the hurt he has caused, but instead the p’tahk stands thee, patting himself on the back, portraying himself as completely innocent and above all criticisms. ENOUGH! People are dying due to tory cuts, yet they reduce taxes – surely we must do something to free ourselves from the bunch of arrogant liars and crooks currently leading the country their own selfish gain. Criminals employing criminals.

Jeez. Not bad for my three-thousandth entry.

I was just speaking to my dad, who was bemoaning the turgid state of British/english sport, especially he cricket. But as I see it, it’s not that bad: the cricket team may not currently be doing that well, but not so long ago we were on top of the world game for the first time in decades. Last year a brit won Wimbledon for the first time in 77 years; even if Murray does not win this year, that is still pretty awesome. Two years ago we put on an amazing olympics, and had our best medal haul ever. Not long ago we won the rugby world cup. When you think about it, there is a lot of glory in British/english sport’s recent past.

However, there is one glaring exception to this: football. When you look at it, english international football has been on epic let-down after another for almost fifty years. I was appalled at their recent performance, and, like many people I’m sure, very pissed off to hear that our players prioritise their club over the international game. Why should anyone have any respect for these overpaid, pampered jackasses? If you ask me, football has betrayed us, letting us all down. That’s why I’m going to ignore it from now on, and concentrate on proper sports more worthy of my respect.

I was over in Bexleyheath this afternoon, just on a routine visit cruising the shopping arcade, when across the sound system came Strawberry Swing. It might sound strange, but not being a particularly avid fan of Coldplay, I have rarely heard that track. In fact, by my reckoning, this afternoon was the one and only time I’ve heard that song outside of the Paralympics. But, of course, as soon as I recognised the faded guitar pattern over the tannoy this afternoon, my mind swept instantly back to that glorious night when Lyn and the Paraorhestra played that very song before the world. I smiled to myself: I reckon I will forever have such moments now; Moments when London 2012 will be mentioned, or something linked to them, an my mind will go back, and I’ll be able to say I was there at that once in our lifetime event, as it lives on in our collective emory. And, as much as Lyn takes it all in her stride, I cannot help but think that is awesome.

Yesterday was quite a fun day for me, mostly spent cruising around visiting people. However, I’m now kicking myself as I should have been somewhere completely different. It seems I missed a huge anti-austerity march up in central London: 50,000 people marched against the government and their cuts. The odd thing is, though, I haven’t heard a peep about this story on mainstream news, which, given the size of the protest, strikes me as odd, ad even somewhat worrying.

Now my masters is all done and dusted, I have started to go through my old files. I did a lot of writing for it which didn’t make it into the final thesis. At one stage during the process, I explored he personal Aspect of filmic love, where I look into the social side of cinephilia. Looking over these short pieces, I see why they were cut. Strictly speaking these anecdotes were not academically relevant as they have little to do with ideas like those concerning the contingent, at the core of cinephilia. Yet part of me wishes I had left them in, as they describe moments i love in both film and my life. For example, I detail the night that tony and Charlie took me to see casino royale, and how that experience in part gave rise to my adoration of the ending of that film. I mention somewhere too that part of my passion for Star Trek stems from my friendship with Andrew fox – I mention his death, but leave out the non academic details which nevertheless enrich the story on a personal, social level.

However, it seems time to put that right. My blog does not need to abide by the same rules as my thesis. In this entry i noted the links part of me wanted to include but didn’t; I also began to touch on this idea here. I will probably include more as and when they occur to me, but it certainly feels like I have started to put something right.

Farewell Brazil it’s all but over.

Two one to equador is pretty dire.

Time to head home, back through Dover

Then decide who to keep and who to fire.

So much for this cup for another four years

Why do we always raise our hopes so high?

We just get rowdy after too many beers

And keep telling ourselves it’s worth a try.

So soon the team will come home

No silver, but nice and brown.

Next time, they’ll say, and we’ll all groan

Once again we feel let down.

I definitely need to flag this sickening news up. While I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the figures, it repots that ”a staggering 700,000 sick or disabled people are stuck in sickness benefit limbo waiting a year or more with no ESA decision. With around 265,000 stuck with no PIP decision, leaving many without disability support they will qualify for and are entitled to.” In other words, over half a million people are being denied the support they need through Tory cuts and penny pinching. This is surely something everyone should be aware of, for maybe then the current government would be treated as the criminals thy are.

I was just on my way back through the park from my usual Thursday morning volunteering session at school, when I came across the sign shown here. Lyn and I had noticed tent going up in he park yesterday afternoon, and, expecting some kind of fair, today I thought a brief investigation was in order. As a film buff, what I discovered is much more exciting than a fair: it seems a company called Privileged Productions is using Charlton house as a location for filming on something called The Royals. Of course I have never heard of either, and a cursory Google didn’t turn up much, but I’m now very excited. There’s a zarking film crewe on my doorstep! What could I see, what could I learn? What contacts could I potentially make?! I’m off to the park.

Let it be recorded that today, the seventeenth day of june 2014, I Matt Goodsell, ate an entire bowl of spiced nuts, picking them up individually with my thumb and forefinger, without dropping one. This may no sound like much, but for me it is a remarkable accomplishment worthy of noting: I astonished myself by not dropping a single nut in a unique feat of dexterity. Mind you, when I enthusiastically pointed this out to Lyn, she cheekily clicked her fingers, something she can do but I cannot. It seems it is hard to impress some people.

It has been a cool couple of days, really,. Saturday evening saw us out in Lewisham, where we met with lyn’s friend mark. That was odd enough: quite uncannily, I randomly bumped into him and his p.a Denny on Thursday at communication works at school. As we had agreed due to my hurry that morning, Denny then phoned here and organised a Saturday night pub trip. That was a very cool evening, although we didn’t stay out for the big football match. During the meeting, though, we of course discussed the time, now six or seven years ago, that Denny had supported Lyn on one of our first weekends together up in Alsager. We then collectively recalled that that was the weekend when Lyn first met Charlotte, and we resolved that, since C now lives in Liverpool, as do Mark and Denny, meeting there would be fun. Denny suspected she and Mark would get on like a house on fire. I agreed, but thought no more about it after coming home and falling asleep on the sofa during the match.

But then the oddest thing happened. Yesterday was a quiet day: Sally cancelled the planned meeting; I went out but stayed out of the pubs. Last night, however, i got a Facebook message from Charlotte herself, proposing brunch this morning in new cross. I still hear from her from time to time, of course; but she’s such a busy person that the coincidence struck me as remarkable. She was down this weekend and couldn’t go back north without seeing her favourite cripple. Of course I went to meet her, and had a lovely coffee with her and her brother. During the discussion, what should be suggested but a meet up in Liverpool in August! I don’t ordinarily believe in things like fate, but it looks like the fates want me to go to Liverpool this summer. Even I must agree the coincidence is spooky. How odd that the two events happen in such quick succession – and how glorious. Looks like an awesome night out on merseyside is on the horizon.

Just a quick note today to wish my mum a happy birthday, and dad a happy father’s day. They told me yesterday on skype that they have a day out planned today, so with luck they’ll currently be having a great time. I know I can be a pain, and that I often give them cause for worry – that is, after all, my job as a middle son – but I also know how proud they are of me, as I am of them, and that means more than I can say. Have a great day, guys!

Controversial as some may see it, I’d just like to flag this article up debunking the myth that it is the dream of every cripple to walk. I can walk up to a point, but use my chair for longer distances; I don’t sit around bemoaning my inability to walk as my chair works perfectly well. Thus the insistence of some that we must walk at all cost essentially boils down to the imposition of a type of conformity. As the article points out, ”The implicit message from the media seems to be, ‘Wheelchairs suck! Walk in this robot instead!”’ referring to the more and more Borgish devices they are making for disabled people to enable them to walk. But wheelchairs do not suck, and I refuse to conform to an arbitrary notion of normality, especially when it is tiring, painful and sometimes dangerous. Yet what puzzles me is, why does that seem such a difficult concept for others to grasp?