In terms of coolness rating, today was sub-zero. A few months ago, a Spanish film company asked lyn to help them create the score for their documentary, The Unstoppables. This she did, and they were very happy with her work. So much so, indeed, that they then decided to make a second, stand alone film about Lyn and her music making. Shooting began today, and although it’s only going to be a short film my eyes really have been opened to how intense the film-making process is. The crew of three were here for about seven or eight hours and worked constantly, setting up shots and shooting, and even so they need to come back and do more.They just filmed around the house, but even so I think we are both knackered. Nevertheless, I found it absolutely fascinating and can’t wait to do more. They were awesome guys to work with – professional, expert but fun. I’ll post a link to the complete film as soon as I can.

My love of film as an art form grows even deeper.

Sitting in the park yesterday, drinking too much beer,

Watching the Mighty 8 cricketers, giving them a cheer.

A great day for them, and quite a comfortable win

How we talked and chatted, many quaffing gin. Watching the wickets fall, there we all sat; for my support this year they gave me a hat!

A truly great afternoon, then, out in the park

And then a barbie at the club, as it grew dark.

‘Though I don’t play, it’s like I’m on the team.

Yes, they are now my friends these men, these cricketers of esteem.

I think I better just mention the rather cool inclusion of voca-using comedian Lee Ridley on this week’s edition of Click, the technology show on bbc news. They were doing a segment about the use of technology in comedy, so Ridley who uses a communication aid throughout his performance, was relevant. It is only a brief mention, but it occurs to me that we voca users are slowly becoming more and more visible in the media. I’m Spazticus on channel four is a great move forward in that area, as is, I think, the paraorcestra. At last it is not a rarity to see a crip on telly, and that must surely be a great thing. I daresay that the producers of Click might be interested in Lyn and her use of the ipad to create and perform music – reckon we should contact them?

How can I sum up the events of yesterday? The truth is, I don’t feel I’m qualified to give an overview of the politics behind it all, yet it is clear to me that we disabled people are being hit hard by the government cuts. Clear enough, indeed, that yesterday I felt compelled to join my comrades on a protest up in westminster. It turned out to be an incredible day: as usual I went not knowing what to expect; I met a group of my comrades up in whitehall, opposite Downing street, already getting warmed up. They were a diverse bunch, the disability community now accommodating a gloriously vast array of people. Many people, not just those with the usual physical disabilities, now define themselves as belonging to our community, and a great many of them are being hurt by the tory cuts.

A short while later, after a few protest songs had been sang, the protest moved from whitehall to the DWP office in order to convey our message to Ian DuncanSmith. There we met up with other sections of our protest party who had been campaigning in other areas, such as the department of education. That is when it became clear to me that this was no small affair – there must have been two hundred of us. It was then, too, that I heard of the plan to actually enter the palace of Westminster and deliver our concerns directly. I had thought I would be home by seven, but this was going to be a long day.

I never thought I would actually be allowed into westminster hall, yet yesterday afternoon, having spent what felt an age going through security, I found myself sat in the beautiful millenium-old building. It is a fascinating place, labyrinthine with an ancient feeling. Portraits of prime ministers adorn the walls: I couldn’t help thinking his was where great people like churchill once walked. Unfortunately the building only has two small lifts, so getting us all to our allocated room took a while, and even then we couldn’t all get in. Thus I missed most of what was said, and indeed who said it. Nevertheless I felt it necessary to be there, sat with my comrades in the halls of power.

At this point I feel I should launch into a rant, outlining how angry I feel at the injustice this government is causing. And I did feel angry sat there yesterday in the green-carpeted corridor. Yet it was not a day for ranting, just being there was sufficient, showing our opposition to the injustices currently being meated out. The bus ride home was long and slow, and I was feeling guilty about not being able to skype my parents at the arranged time, but it had been a thrilling, amazing day – one of the greatest. I went to bed last night feeling that maybe, just maybe, I ad helped make a difference.

It has been a long, amazing day. I feel like I should try to write about it – I went into a place I never thought I would wheel into (think big, millenium-old buildings in central London) . Yet sometimes it is best to sleep rather than write, so I’ll keep you in suspense: sorry, but this one will have to wait ’till the morning.

Believe it or not I still haven’t seen ‘Star Trek Into Darkness’. I must be the only self-confessed trekkie not to have done so. The truth is, it did not appeal to me; I did not feel as compelled to go see it in the cinema as I would if it were a trek film of the old sort. You see this new type of star trek – the sort begun with the 2009 reboot – does not feel like trek should; it feels completely different from the franchise I grew up with. However, I cannot, I suppose, close my mind to it; the 007 franchise constantly reinvents itself – that is, in fact – one of it’s defining features. That is why I bought ‘Into Darkness’ on dvd today. I’ll probably post a short review on here soon, but part of me still fears that the science fiction franchise I grew up loving is now gone forever, replaced by something with the same name but a totally different aesthetic and soul.

A day to chill

Being just tired, not Ill.

I rather overdid it last night,

Out in the garden, the moon so bright. A great night in with our mates talking and singing ’till quite late.

So while such evenings tire me out

They are surely what life’s about.

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(Thanks to my polish pals John and Mitchel for sharing this with me.)

Yesterday turned out to be quite cool day. We decided to take a day-trip to Brighton. The sun was out, it’s fairly inexpensive, so why not? We caught the train down from London bridge and, meeting Mitchell and a couple of other friends at the station, we were soon at the coast. I do like Brighton: it reminds me of Blackpool, but seems slightly less commercial. I like the shops in the narrow, winding back streets. We found a martial arts shop which sold replica swords – I asked the proprietor if they sold bat’leths and, funnily enough, he said they did but had sold them. I promise you, I will own a Klingon ‘sword of honour’ one day.

My geekiness aside, we then went on through the fascinating, rather quaint streets. John was pushing me in my manual chair, and I was just musing to myself about something or other, when I suddenly heard a voice from the past. Out of the blue, Hollie, an old friend from university, called to me. It turns out she is now doing her Master’s in Brighton, and was out with a couple of friends. It was great to see her. I told her we were headed down to the beach and invited her along, and she said she might join us later. In the event she was too busy, which was fair enough – it was a happy encounter anyway.

The rest of the day was spent on the pier, drinking and talking happily. There were no Spaniards or digeridoos involved this time sadly, and we caught the last train home rather than sleeping on the beach. Nevertheless, it was an amazing day, ending at about three this morning in our kitchen. Lyn, Dominik, John and myself resolved that plenty more such trips, to Brighton and other places, are definitely now in order. I can’t wait – who knows who I’ll bump into.

Pretty soon I intend to try to write something about world events. It has been a while since I passed comment about such matter,, and it will feel good to look into affairs beyond my personal here and now again. For now though, I cannot decide how I feel about syria: going to war again would be unwise, of course – conflict and bloodshed must be avoided wherever possible – yet part of me worries that the UK has made itself irrelevant. By voting against involving ourselves, have we effectively bowed out of the world stage? Then again, you could say that we cannot keep blindly following the Americans into war after war, and this is what should have happened with iraq. Indeed, one senses the shadow of iraq bears down heavily. The problem is, in this case it is obvious people in syria are suffering, and need help. Thus I find myself in two minds, unsure what to think. Either way,, the vote has been cast, and all we in Britain can do now is watch.

Last night I stayed at Luke and his mum’s place again. We are fast becoming very good friends – just as well given we have embarked on such a large project together. Truth be told, I don’t have much to report, other than the fact I woke up with a head-ache, and that it is remarkable to see Luke, apparently inspired my me, becoming more and more independent. The thought I am helping him somehow is very gratifying indeed.

Today as disabled people and other minorities still face oppression of different sorts – albeit not quite as overtly as black people in america did half a century ago – it seems appropriate that I simply direct you to this speech, made fifty years ago today. Dr. King’s dream, it seems, is not yet quite for filled. Whether against segregation or against cuts, the fight for freedom continues.

The guys who created the Lynstrument visited again today. They are now making Lyn a new mouse, or rather a device to control the curser using buttons. What they did really was awesome: they are creating it for lyn specifically, so they spent a while working on getting the buttons positioned just right. However, they intend to use the same rough format for other people, so they were using a piece of card covered with velcrow strips onto which they could stick the buttons. They’ll now go away and make a permanent version, with the buttons positioned precisely where Lyn prefers them. Great stuff indeed, if only everything was so easy for disabled people: as we discussed in brief with the guys, we often have to pay relatively extortionate prices for specialist equipment we cannot live without – or are told we cannot – yet is often inferior to cheaper alternatives. It is a problem many of us face, and so I can’t help thinking we have been very lucky in this instance.

Nevertheless, I must say that being overcharged for such vital equipment has to be one of the worst things about being disabled, and is probably something that hold many of us back.

Tonight, I don’t have much to say It has been a slow, relaxed day a highlight was a shopping trip

A swift whizz round tesco, that was it.

Oh how I love this slow, relaxed life,

Which will be great to spend with my future wife.

Cyril and Saran’s wedding was wonderful. To tell the truth I don’t know where to begin writing about it: friday was a great day, one about friends and family, set in the wonderful grounds of Dissington hall, near Newcastle. Of course, it should be noted – and I include this mainly as a reminder to myself not to be so stupid next time – that we almost did not get there. We were at King’s Cross when I realised I had forgotten our train tickets! Dominik had to come all the way back to get them. Thanks to his swiftness, we only lost a couple of hours, but it was once we were on the train that I realised I had forgotten my suit! Fortunately a few messages to mum solved that problem, but I despair at my own ineptitude sometimes – how Lyn puts up with me I know not.

My antics aside, the ceremony itself was both beautiful and utterly unique. Cyril, being a bit of a joker, included a small stunt where, at the right point, one of his friends got up and pretended to object to the wedding; Cyril then gave him some money in the smooth, cool way my cousin has, and the guy sat back down. I loved it, although I must say that for a fleeting second I did not realise it was a joke, and was beginning to worry. And then there as the couples’ first dance. They had rehearsed a kind of performance for this too, reminiscent, dare I say it, of the tango performed in True Lies. Sexy and intimate, I found it astonishing, and was sad that Lyn was out of the room when they performed it. It was one of the coolest things ever: saran and Cyril certainly have style.

We all then danced the night away, talking and drinking the excellent wine my uncle had brought. I’m not sure when I got to bed, but it was a very cool evening – I might put some of the photos on here soon. We got back here last night rather tired, having explored some of Newcastle before coming home. I still feel rather bad about the ticket fiasco: I really must learn to be more organised. After all, seeing Cyril and Saran get married in such style has made me even more eager to start thinking about our own wedding, and from what I hear, they take a hell of a lot of organising.

We just got home from my cousin’s wedding in Newcastle. It has been an incredible couple of days, but a full account must wait until the morning, as I’m rather knackered. But I’ll just note that all my cousins and brothers are now married, leaving it up to me and Lyn to tie the knot now: that is an exciting idea, although, given my organisational skills, a daunting one too.

I just feel that I ought to flag this story up tonight. Two nine-year-old girls have become the world’s youngest formation wing-walkers in an effort to raise money and awareness for the Duchenne Children’s Trust, which raises money for research into the fatal genetic disease Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. As someone who has lost several friends to DMD, I must say these young ladies have my full support and admiration, and indeed my thanks.

Tonight it suddenly feels like all is well with the world. My parents visited earlier, and we had a good, long chat: there are one or two family matters which, needless to say I’ll reveal here in due course, but which have me very excited. My thesis finally seems ready, and I have a new project with Luke and Sally to work on. Lyn has a new song out and a couple of concerts coming up, which is also very exciting. In short, and all other concerns political or international aside, it occurs to me that I have much to be happy about. Yes, things tonight seem to be looking up, and I’ll soon go to bed with a smile on my face.

Sorry to be slightly geeky, but this morning I came across this youtube channel devoted to reviews of James bond film and games. Its author, Calvin Dyson seems articulate, perceptive and rather witty; I seem to be able to detect a certain knowledge behind his comments that set him apart from the mass of other online amateur reviewers. In fact, what he says has elements of the cinephiliac discourse, but the way in which he plays with clips is reminiscent of fandom. In a way then he straddles the two discourses – demonstrating exactly what I write about in my master’s. I find it very interesting stuff, both as a cinephile and a bond fan. i have just watched a few of his videos so far – time to take a deeper look.

It has been quite a week. Last night was my cousin cyril’s stag bash: I went, John pushing me in my manual chair. That proved to be a wise decision, as, as usual, I drank too much too quickly. That aside, it was a really cool night – my brother luke came, as did three of Cyril’s friends from university. They are all neuroscientists apart from luke who is a bioinfomatician, so there were many amusing references to things like cutting into brains. We headed home about midnight part of me wanted to stay longer, but I was tired and more than a little drunk. It was great to see the guys, though I daresay that between last night ad the events of tuesday, I need a good rest!

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(Suits him, don’ you think?)

It has been a wonderful evening: just me, Lyn and the stars. We have just been sitting talking and listening to the radio. I don’t have much to report, nor is there much to describe; yet I feel I must just record this wonderful moment involving two people, in love, at peace, under the stars. Surely this must be what life is about.

I must say that I agree totally and wholeheartedly with this Guardian article: I’m spazticus has to be one of the funniest things on tv at the moment, and my full respect must go to channel four for airing it. And I’m not just saying that because I’m a disabled man…at least, I don’t think I am. I find myself wondering if I’m being objective, whether I unconsciously feel obliged to laugh given that it my own subculture which is at last on tv. I don’t think so: any way you look at it, there were moments of utter genius on last night’s programme. It laughs with us not at us. I especially liked the ‘money for a disabled person’ sketch, although I must say that I find the actor in it, simon Stevens, a bad choice for this programme. Stevens is something of an outsider in the disabled community; his views are seen by many as discriminatory and damaging. He has written (here for example) that he thinks that the disability movement has been hijacked by those he calls ‘fake disabled people’, those he sees as having less profound impairments. Thus I have real reservations about him being on this show, but that is just a minor qualm about an otherwise great programme. I’m spazticus smashes the taboo: it is at last okay to laugh at cripples.

I appear to have alas failed in my effort to post an entry a day for an entire year. Believe it or not, part of me feels rather upset about that – I was going to so much effort to keep it up. It was, however, for a good reason: sally invited me over to their place for a meeting about the project me,, Luke and she are doing after which we went to the pub. Their place is quite a distance, but straightforward enough to get to. I had thought I’d be back by the evening, but sally and luke are fast becoming good friends, so a bit of socialisation was in order after we had dealt with the business side of things. It turned out to be an incredible night – rather than come home, they let me stay the night at theirs. Awesomely, it was also the night that Luke, a comunication-aid user, ordered a round independently for the first time. Sally, Lukes mum, says I have inspired him to do more things on his own. How cool is that.

Thus this morning I woke up in a bed I didn’t recognise,, wondering why I couldn’t feel Lyn beside me. I decided to get back here quite promptly, but no doubt I’ll be going back to sally and lukes again soon. We have a project to work on which, while still embryonic, has a very good chance of becoming huge. I am very excited about both it and my new friends. If that means I don’t post an entry every day, then it seems worth it to me.

I realise my last few entries have been fairly short and sweet, and lacking in analysis (inasamuch as I ever really analyse anything on here). The thing is there doesn’t seem to be much going on that I feel compelled to write about in depth. Of course, my views on politics haven’t changed: I’m still as angry at the tories and their ideological cuts as I ever was. Yet I fear there are only so many rants I can post before it gets boring. Of course, that situation isn’t helped either by the act that it is summer and there is not much going on politically in general. Nor can I write much about events here in charlton: Lyn and are busy working on various projects. As I noted, Lyn just finished a great track and now intends to create a video for it; I have just begun an awesome new project which, while I don’t want to go into detail about it on here yet, I’m very excited about. Also it would now seem that my masters is ready for submission. All in all, then, these are exciting times: the problem is that I can’t seem to convey any of that excitement onto my blog, for the moment at least.

And I promise to post a proper rant on here as soon as I find something to get sufficiently agitated about.

My older brother, Mark, is 32 today. Happy birthday bro! For one reason or another, we rarely keep in contact – I know he’s in paris, but because we both lead such busy, hectic lives, I don’t talk to him very often. I still think of him, of course, wondering what he and Kat are up to. If only he had a blog too, allowing people to keep tabs on him as mine does with me. Nevertheless, if you’re reading this bro, have a great day, and I’ll see you soon.

Lyn finished her latest track, Touched, this week. It really is a brilliant piece; I’m so lucky to have such a talented fiancee. I especially like the skattish passages. It can be listened to and downloaded here

I just noticed that, sometime yesterday or during the night, my website passed the million hit mark. I think that is quite incredible. I just keep my website up for fun: I’m not big headed enough to think that it is read by many people other than my friends and family; and I realise that reaching a million hits after over ten years of blogging is relatively quite slow. Yet to me this is a monumental landmark, something to be proud of and even to celebrate. To think that people do indeed want to read what I write is flattering, and makes me want to keep it up.

Something big has happened, and by big I mean truly monumental. I can’t say much about it, other than to state that, as a result of what I wrote here two days ago, an exciting new opportunity has presented itself. All being well, I’m about to become rather busy.

A coupe of days ago after the cricket match was drawn and England had retained the ashes, I decided to gloat to my Australian friend Darryl: I simply posted a link to Gene Kelly’s famed rendition of ”Singin in the Rain” on Youtube. However Darry just posted his reply, and it is absolutely glorious! I wonder how he made it so quickly, and I’m flattered that D wen to so much trouble. It isn’t a million miles from what I was going on about yesterday, or he fusions of fiction and reality I find so interesting. Anyway, it certainly demands a re-reply on my part; now to start thinking up cunning ideas of what I can do in response.

I’m probably just trying to reinvent the wheel, due to my own ignorance of the area. I was wondering recently whether a filmic equivalent of the paraorchestra exits – a place for disabled film-makers to show off their talent, just as the paraorchestra did with music. If not, could one be created? The world of disability is becoming increasingly relevant, especially after last year: a para-film group might be just what is needed. Of course, even the briefest of searches would show you how vast the area of disability film now is. Today I came across this Australian disability film competition (check out some of the entries – there is some impressive work on that site). Yet I found competitions and festivals, but no dedicated disability film companies.

Of course you could ask why one is needed. Why pigeon-hole onesself when we should be aiming for the mainstream? Such questions could just as validly be levelled at any disability-based organisation: we have a vibrant culture worthy of celebration. We crips have stories to tell, and many are already telling them; but what I think we need is some sort of organisation to facilitate that telling.

What that organisation will look like I do not know. All I know is I want to make film. There is clearly ample disabled film-making talent Out there: perhaps what we need to do is collect it together in one official, structured body, raise funds and show the world what ‘we’ can do.

It would be wrong of me to suddenly profess to being a Dr. Who fan. To be honest the franchise has never inspired me in the way that star trek, Tolkien, 007 etc do. Yet that is not to day I’m not interested in it. As you probably know last night saw the unveiling of a new doctor:An average of 6.2 million viewers apparently tuned in to BBC One last night to see Peter Capaldi unveiled as the 12th Doctor. I didn’t watch it but caught up with it on Iplayer this morning. I’m sort of interested in such cultural phenomena; I wanted to see how it was presented, how it was sold. It occurs to me that the doctor has a lot in common with Bond: while one is cinematic and the other televisual, both franchises are around fifty years old, and both have had numerous actors embody the role. Thus it could be said that they occupy similar cultural niches. In fact, I daresay that the doctor could have been used as an alternative to bond in the sketch where 007 escorts the queen to the olympics, although Bond is more well known internationally, making him the obvious choice. Only the doctor has that status, though, and that interests me.

This opens up the possibilities for the franchise, though. Given that the announcement of a new doctor was such a big event (reminiscent in fact of the unveiling of a new Bond) could the doctor now be used in a similar way? He is one of those dramatis personae known to all, loved universally: if bond can take the queen to the olympics, could the doctor be used in a similar way? granted, the two franchises differ – while both are british icons, dr. who is made by the beeb and bond by eon; they have different audiences; the doctor is slightly more kitsch, and for want of a better word geeky. Both franchises seem in a way to have different type of universality, so to speak, probably due to their differing formats.

Thus, to me, the Bond character is suited more to be used on the worldwide stage, but dr. who could still be used as part of the same sort of cultural device. That’s why that sketch was important: if fiction and reality can merge on such an epic scale, the door is open to any other possibility. You could call it the ultimate victory of postmodernity, demonstrating that no cultural icon is too sacred to be played with. At the same time, as I wrote here, you have to be careful: you can’t just throw any two cultural phenomena together or everything will become farcical and the profundity of the concept will vanish. For example, if President Obama was now to be shown having a beer with Homer simpson, even if it was inspired by ‘Happy and Glorious’ it would in a way take away the impact and novelty of the original, because homer is a comic character. This is a paradox I’ve been musing over quite a lot recently. It sets an important precedent by presenting the queen in a way we never predicted. It rereads her position in our culture, but as soon as it is followed, as soon as somebody does something similar, the journey is complete and the queen’s position as just another part of popular culture is confirmed. The irony being that the reason why everyone gasped at the olympic sketch was that the queen was supposed to be above such things: if this type of thing becomes normal, nobody would gasp. The goal of this short film was arguably to shock people by admitting the fictional reality of monarchy, yet as soon as people realise that truth, the shock value evaporates. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that it is nice to cling on to some fictions, lest everything becomes dull. At the same time such textual play is welcome in that it questions old stagnant norms. What boyle did was brave, but at the same time he merely admitted a truth we all knew deep down, and where’s the bravery in that?

We can therefore see the complexities of such things. You can probably tell that this fascinates me; it still has me in two minds – I would love to see others do similar things but fear that if they do the original would become less special. Nevertheless, if Dr. Who is a similar cultural phenomenon to 007, he too can be used as bond was, albeit perhaps in a different kind of event perhaps national rather than international. I wonder what he could do. If we do now live in a world where fiction and reality can merge, and aspects of fannish textual play are seeping in to the mainstream, his franchise seems ideally placed to follow the example of bonds. While, as I say, part of me worries that such stunts would lose their impact if they become frequent, the dr. who franchise now begs to follow bond into reality. After all, he is an immortal time-lord able to avoid death by regeneration. I just think it would be cool if the bbc took the next step and made the doctor real, as they did with bond. It seems to me that such stunts are places where the gap between fiction and reality blurs, allowing us for a moment to revert to the simple joy of childhood dreaming, and banishing the daunting solidities of adulthood.

Speaking as I did yesterday of cricket, while I know this is rather negative, but tonight my hopes for the test match can be summed up by sending you here. Mind you, the match could still be saved, but I suppose we’ll see tomorrow.

Once again I don’t have much to report on here tonight, and yet it has been a glorious day. I just spent a wonderful afternoon in charlton park, watching the cricket. Although the team I was supporting, Blackheath, lost quite badly, I have become quite well known to it’s members, so to me it was more of a social event than a sporting one.Thus my afternoon was spent out in the sun, chatting to the players, and later commiserating them. It was chilled out and relaxed; one guy, a fellow known, rather oddly, as tesco, even came back here with me to have a beer in our back garden. There we chatted a while, drinking and forging friendships, lyn joining us. Thus it has been a wonderful afternoon. If you ask me, loosing or not, life doesn’t get much better.

Oh that glorious M 25!

Inside, how they strive;

Yet outside lie the fields,

Which the tarmac ribbon shields

A barrier to the chaos and the sin

As if the sheep wonder what lies within.

So behold the great M twenty-five, Boundary of the mighty human hive.

I know I promised to shut up about olympic matters, but earlier I got wind that, due to Russia’s new anti-gay laws, gay competitors will now be prevented from going to the winter Olympics in Sochi next year. As reported here, the new laws are blatantly discriminatory against gay people. While I do not define myself as gay in a strict sense, I have huge sympathies with the gay community. I also regard an attack on one minority an attack on us all. Indeed this is akin to the russian authorities banning disabled or black people from competing, and thus flies in the face of the spirit of inclusion exhibited so joyously by London 2012 an the olympics in general. I’m incensed by this news, and although time is now very short indeed, would like to see these games re-awarded to someone else. Why should the IOC and the rest of us tolerate such bigotry?

Before now I had dismissed Woody Allen as a neurotic, somewhat irritating, New Yorker. Yet, in an act of sheer arrogance and folly, I never actually sat down to watch any of his work – I thought I didn’t ‘get’ it. However, I just watched last weeks bbc documentary* on him, and have to admit I’m now quite angry at my own stupidity. Granted, there is still the risk that he could be overrated and liked because everyone else likes him, but from what I just saw, there is far more to Allen than I thought. He is a prodigious auteur with a vast body of work. Of course I won’t write anything in detail about him now, but just say that I have something new to engage with. Time for me to dig out ‘Midnight in Paris’, then go buy more stuff by and about him. My appetite has been whetted, and once again I feel the mercury of my curiosity rising.

*Part one can be seen here; part two here.

Right. Time for me to stop naval gazing about things which, although interesting, don’t really effect our day to day lives. I just heard that ten disabled families have lost a court challenge to social housing benefit cuts for residents with spare bedrooms in England, Wales and Scotland. That means that disabled people will be charged for any spare rooms the may have, even though they need the space. For example, Lyn and I live in a bungalow with two bedrooms, the second of which I use as an office-cum-storeroom-cum-dressing room. we both use lot of equipment, like wheelchairs, hoists and computers. Thus we couldn’t live without the extra space. We also need our Personal assistant to stay over sometimes too. if the bedroom tax is enforced, we will either have to pay extra or move.

I’m now extremely concerned and angry, as will be, no doubt, thousands of people with disabilities up and down the country. It is quite clear that ‘we’ are being unfairly discriminated against, and that some of the most vulnerable people in society are now being made to pay the most. How is that fair. After all, we cannot help needing the extra space; it comes with the dribble. Yet it seems we will now have to pay extra, as will many more in much tougher positions than our own.

What pisses me off, though, is that this tory-lead government does not care: it is taxing the poorest people in society while lowering tax for the richest, and calling it ‘fair’. They claim they want to break people of wealth fare dependency, and encourage self-reliance. To them, everyone should fend for their selves and tax should be low. But I think that is an excuse for greed, selfishness, and all that is base about humanity. I’d love a job, but those on the right refuse to see that things are not that simple. Not everyone is able, and so those who are should help those who aren’t. Thus I see no evidence of compassion in conservatism, just elitism and a contempt for anyone who is not wealthy. To them, we crips are useless eaters who should find jobs or be left to starve. Either that or we should rely on charity rather than the state: fed by kind voluntary donation rather than a benefit system. They lie to theirselves by saying that, in a low tax system , people give more to charity, soothing their consciouses and justifying their selfishness.

I don’t want to be a lesser being, and nor do I want to be a victim of Tory greed expected to feel greatful for a rich man’s charitable whim. For all their talk of ‘seeing things in the round’, for all their dissembling justification, this tax amounts to the blatant discrimination against and ostracisation of disabled people. How can we allow such bigots to remain in government?

I went to the barbers today, my least favourite activity. I hope everyone likes my new summer hair style; at least I won’t have to go again for a while…

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I just rewatched the first half hour of last year’s opening ceremony, given that it was repeated last night on bbc3. I still seem to be obsessed with it, sad git that I am; it just seems so special to me, as we all know that such a moment will probably never come again, in our lifetime at least. As the commentator noted at one point, these ceremonies will live on in our collective folk memory for a generation.

They are special because they are unique. It seems to me that what happened last year can never be repeated or replicated, for the moment you do so, something is lost. Take, for example, my favourite bit – the meeting of bond and the queen. I have written before that it would be cool to see more such juxtapositions. However, if you think about it, that film is only special because it is unique: only the 007 character occupies that cultural position, the same combination. The bond franchise is unique in world cinema – fifty years old, it crosses generations, yet evokes a specific nation. Only the bond character could be used in such a way because the bond franchise is like no other. This sequence is testimony to it’s uniqueness, confirming it cultural position. The second any other character is used in such a way, the dynamic changes – Bond becomes just another action hero, rendering the sequence with the queen ‘normal’, banal. I don’t want that to happen – I want this sequence to remain unique, fascinating and important. I suppose that was the danger in making it in the first place, as if others take up the meme, it becomes a joke and the original is stripped of it’s boldness. Mind you, if as I say the 007 franchise is indeed unique in world culture, that probably won’t happen – it takes a very special set of circumstances (an event like the olympics, a well-loved long-reigned monarch and an extremely well established film franchise known to all yet part of the cultural identity of a nation) to allow one to perform such a stunt. Should that happen, however, something special about last year’s opening ceremony, british culture, the queen and James Bond would be lost. The paradox, however, is that this sequence almost begs to be copied, in a way saying ”if we Brits can use our cultural iconography in this way, what can others do?”, while in a way knowing that, should that happen it would render that very iconography a joke. I see it as a brave admission to the fact that the monarchy is just as much a cultural construct as anything else; if that is so, this scene looses its boldness and is rendered onto the same level as any other piece of media. And yet the meeting of bond and the queen will live on as a unique, special moment in our cultural memory for decades. It is anything but normal. Thus at the same time as it rereads the monarchy it also maintains it’s status as something unique and special. Ultimately though, the meeting of Bond and the queen will always remain unique and iconic, as surely no other country has a similar combination of monarch and cultural megalith.

I still feel a warm glow, then, when I think about what happened a year ago today. In a way these ceremonies also strike me personally. Not only did they have my favourite filmic character securing his position in british and world culture, but my favourite wizard, physicist and song. I love how they celebrate things like british children’s literature, and the NHS in a bold, somewhat left-field statement to the world. Best of all, my wonderful fiancee starred at the very climax of the final ceremony! I still think that is something very special indeed, and want it to remain special. Yet when I enthuse about it to Lyn, when I mention how wonderful it was to see her and the Paraorchestra perform that night, she tells me off, pointing out that, while what happened last year was unique, for me to constantly go to about it is to forget that even greater things are yet to come. Lyn is right: last year was last year; as great and as unique as it was, what matters is the future. To dwell upon past glories is to stop moving forward. When Lyn pointed that out to me, I felt both ashamed and excited: ashamed that I had thought things had somehow peaked, and excited to realise that we are still climbing.

And indeed we are! We will never see a summer like last year again; we will never feel the same excitement we felt at the ringing of that bell. I don’t want to – I want 2012 to remain unique, lest it becomes ‘normal’. But in no way does that mean the greatest things are over: even greater things will come, necessarily different, building on but not repeating the glories of a year ago.