We are all well aware of what day it is. Nine years ago, we all saw the images of planes being thrown into buildings; we all saw those buildings fall. We all know how many died. Yet it occurs to me that it was not that event in itself, but what was done after, which has blighted the world. Those planes were sent by a lunatic eager to kill and maim to achieve his own ends, but the true lunacy, if you think about it, lies with America’s reaction to it. Bush acted as though a sovereign nation had declared war on the US; immediately he deployed troops to Afghanistan, and almost immediately he added the word ‘Islamic’ to the word ‘terrorist’.

It’s this last act which was the most dangerous, because it instantly brought religion into the equation. We didn’t call Hitler a Christian dictator, just a dictator. In other words, it was bush who made this a religious war: indeed, it should never have been called a war in the first place. The result is the growth of religious fundamentalism in the states, including this moron threatening to burn copies of the Koran. Everything has been put into a religious context; everything has become black or white: Christianity and America good, Islam and foreigners bad. Conservatism good, liberalism bad.

The problem with the preacher in America is the second we prevent him from doing anything, society becomes slightly less free. On the other hand, by burning the Muslim holy book, he is in and of himself committing a profoundly intolerant act. Thus we have a paradox. I, as a liberal, believe people should be free to act as they whish, yet what this man proposed to do was profoundly illiberal, not to say highly reckless. But if this man was more tolerant of other people’s faith, he would not be burning the Koran; and if people were more tolerant of such actions, bbut simply saw it for what it is – some idiot trying to stir up trouble – it wouldn’t be a risk. In other words, it is because of conservatism that there is a problem.

Indeed, I think conservatism is a problem, and particularly the American brand of religious conservatism so fermented by Bush’s actions. Branding Bin Laden as an Islamic terrorist and then declaring war upon him, rather than discreetly dealing with him like the lunatic he is, drove people further into fundamentalism, intolerance and hatred. Now we have people saying that it is insulting to build an Islamic prayer room near ground zero; we have people throwing pigs into mosques; we have American bloggers frequently railing against Islam and espousing the most obscene and stupid things. From the pulpits more and more fundamental, intolerant readings of the bible are being preached, so that reason and science has given way to superstition and myth; the story of creation has pushed aside logic and evidence.

I look at all these things in horror

All this is because of religion and conservatism. Combine the two, and you get to a state where people hate each other just because they read different books. It is exactly what bin laden thinks, and by banding him a religious terrorist, Bush brought us all down to his level. Bin laden may have wanted a religious war, but it was George W. Bush that made it so, and his conservative followers who are carrying it on. Thus I think it is American religious conservatism, and conservatism in general, which is the biggest threat we face, not some lunatic in a cave. This problem stems from religious intolerance on both sides; the problem is not terrorism or democracy, Islam or Christianity in and of themselves, butt when such ideas are taken so far that they are pitted against one another. In short, the problem is a lack of tolerance on both sides. Without tolerance and understanding – without liberalism – there is only hatred, division and folly. And if that prevails, we are all lost.

Some say that it is possible to be too old to hug your parents – I just found out how very wrong they are. My parents just visited. They couldn’t stay long because they needed to get back to my grandmother, but as soon as he saw me my dad gave me a good, warm, fatherly hug. The type of hug which makes you feel five again; the type of hug which reminds you of being tucked up in bed listening to a thousand bedtime stories; the type of hug which made the world feel all right again.

My parents also brought stuff with them – my stuff. I now have many of my most prised possessions: the pictures Charlie gave me;* my Hitchcock, Lord of the rings and James bond DVD box sets; my Hemingway books and so on. I’m now very happy. the only problem is, where do we put everything?

Anyway, my parents didn’t stay too long, but they promised they’d be back in a few weeks. As I keep saying, I love life with Lyn, but I’m still close to my parents, and it feels wonderful to know that they are there for me.

*speaking of whom, I’d like to wish her a very happy birthday.

I was just flipping through Blair’s autobiography. Once I got over his nauseating writing style, it occurred to me what a masterstroke of PR it’s publication was. It serves to remind us all what a breath of fresh air New Labour was; how the entire country was once besotted with a fresh-faced young prime minister. One who, unlike our current one, you felt really believed in what he was saying. Of course, history will not be kind to Tony Blair, and rightly so. Dragging us into an unjust war was unforgivable, and Ricardio is right to label him a scumbag for it. Yet this means that history will forget the good he did: the thirteen or so prosperous years, the new schools, the beginnings of inclusion. I’ve only just started reading, but I hope this book reminds us of the good New Labour did.

I do not think I would be much of a blogger if I didn’t send you all here, to an excellent Guardian article spelling out precisely how damaging the government cuts to the benefit system are. One woman, who had lost her job, car and house due to stress was told she would have her benefits cut just because an assessor, who had just met her, said she could ”walk, talk and dress nicely”. These cuts are making people suffer; they are draconian; they remind me of thee ‘poor laws’ of the nineteenth century. I refuse to believe this is all part of an effort to cut the deficit, but an attempt to implement Tory philosophy at its harshest. And what is more sickening is that the Liberals, who under Asquith and Lloyd George fought so hard to end the poor law system, are complicit in all this.

There is nothing linking me to the guy mentioned at the end of this video. I deny everything. You can prove nothing. Would I ever say such an offensive and outrageous thing?

[insert spastic chuckle of mirth here]

I said something really REALLY stupid in my entry yesterday. I mean calamitously, cringe-enducingly stupid. So much so that I had to delete the offending paragraph. I slagged off ‘Red Jesus’. I originally thought it was another egocentric crip artist, without realising that Red Jesus was David W. Morris, a man of extraordinary talents in whose memory the festival was dedicated. A little research has made me realise that Morris was a leading light of the disability rights movement: an artist, filmmaker, chef and musician – indeed, a man of many talents. I intend to look into his work more closely, and I apologise most profusely for my error.

Lyn and I had a great day yesterday. As I noted two days ago, it was the annual Liberty festival – a day-long festival for disabled people in Trafalgar square. For starters, I was pleased with myself for using the tube on my own for the first time. Lyn was in two minds about going, so we agreed that I’d set off on my own, and she would catch up with me later if she wanted. So, I caught the bus to the dome, then the tube to Westminster.

Or, rather, that was the plan. The tube was shut from waterloo onwards. I kept my head, though, and asked for assistance. Pretty soon I was on another overland train to charring cross, and then it was a simple zoom down to Trafalgar square. Nothing very complex, but it boosted my confidence.

When I got there, the festival was in full swing. I bumped in ,my old friend Katie, whom I know from Onevoice. We saw some wheelchair dancers, which were rather kitsch and quite amusing. I then milled about a bit, at one point going over to see the guys from BBC Ouch – getting to talk to them, after reading their website for all these years, was rather cool. It seems to me that ouch is one of the ‘hubs’ of the disability community, although I might need to investigate that in greater detail.

An hour or so later, Lyn and Kasia arrived. We had a bit of trouble finding each other in the crowd, but it sure is handy being able to text now. I think L and K had had the same problems with the tube I did. In fact I was very glad to see them, as I was worried about how to get home.

Anyway, we spent the rest of the afternoon talking and observing. Lyn bumped into a few friends of hers, and I got talking to a guy from Dan. They were handing out leaflets concerning the coalitions benefit cuts. I am now seriously considering going to the protest at the forthcoming Tory party conference: the damage CaMoron and his party will do to disabled people is huge. DLA will be cut by 25%, and disabled people will be placed under pressure to come off benefit – the target is one in five.

By then, it was getting dark. We decided to go up a street to find somewhere to have dinner, then we went home. This turned out to be much easier than coming, as the 53 bus runs from Whitehall to plumstead, passing the end of our road. On the bus, I had chance to ponder what a great day it had been, and how beautiful London looks at dusk.

Tomorrow should be cool, all being well. Lyn and I are planning to go to the Liberty Festival in Trafalgar square. To be honest, apart from that it’s a disability pride thing, I do not know too much about it. But Trafalgar square is only a tube ride away, so I reckon it’s well worth a look.

I feel I kind of live on the periphery of the disabled community. Although I have quite a few friends with disability, and am indeed engaged to a woman with CP, I still feel something of an outsider when it comes to the community. I just try to voice my perspective on my blog, but no longer get involved with things like Ouch. Indeed, I’m still not even sure there is a community per se.

I think that needs to change a bit. I think I need to get involved more in crip culture; I need to understand it a bit more. I also think Lyn and I could do with a few more contacts. Either way, tomorrow, if we do go, should be cool: a chance to celebrate who we are, network, and perhaps bump into a few old friends.

I just gave the bbc interview with Tony Blair a watch. Lyn was watching it last night, but I was too tired to concentrate. I think better in the mornings. I still can’t decide what to make of Blair though: I can understand why so many people hate him, and I too was against attacking Iraq, yet I still respect Blair. I think his intentions were both honourable and genuine, if nave. He wants to make the world better for others, and in removing saddam he thought that he was doing just that. But I don’t think he realised that simply to go around imposing our views on others, however well-intended those views may be, is folly. After all, the British empire justified itself with similar reasoning.

Yet I still like Blair. I still remember that feeling of euphoria that morning in 97 when we woke up to find the dark days were over. I remember the feeling of things gradually getting better. People had more money and more optimism. Now those days are over, and I fear that we are now about to return to those dark days, under a prime minister who is neither honourable nor genuine. CaMoron may attempt to appear nice and open and tolerant, but he is nothing of the sort. He is no Tony Blair.

I just want to record a thought today. I was outside last night, pondering life, the universe and everything. Lyn was in the living room, on her Ipad. At one point, I began to wonder if I should go in to be with her. But then I thought, ”No, we have the rest of our lives together; we have all the time in the world to be with each other.” In that moment, I realised there was no time limit, that Lyn is going to be the person I’ll spend the rest of my days with. And that realisation feels incredible.

My father was, of course, right when he said it was ridiculous to deny CaMoron’s legitimacy as prime minister. It did indeed make me ” sound just like the wingnuts in the States who refuse to accept Obama as President.” The last thing I want to do is sound like one of those lunatics. Yet I was writing yesterday from a position of absolute powerlessness: we have a government which I cannot stand, poised to wreck the benefits system. It has arrogantly awarded itself a five year fixed term, during which time life will become increasingly worse for disabled people and the working classes, just so taxes can be lowered. I cannot abide their lies, arrogance and selfish worldview. To deny CaMoron’s legitimacy as PM may be folly, but what I can deny is his claim to rule for the benefit of all. His policies benefit only the wealthy, upon which basis, given government should work for the good of all, I also deny conservatism’s claim to rationality itself.

I do wish the media would stop referring to David CaMoron as the prime minister, because he isn’t. at the risk of sounding a bit of a lunatic, given that he was not elected by the majority of people in this country, I refuse to recognise CaMoron as my PM. I have many objections to his policies – I think they are backwardslooking, insular, and Neoliberal. Behind his ‘austerity measures’, one can easily detect the individualist, ‘I’m all right Jack’ attitudes that have always been Tory hall marks. And it is precisely these attitudes that are going to send us straight back into recession, and probably depression. Moreover, within the conservative party, there have always been non-progressive, xenophobic attitudes intent on repressing immigrants, ethnic minorities and anyone different from ‘normal’. I strongly suspect these attitudes are still there, however much Tories try to hide them.

This is why I still refuse to recognise CaMoron as prime minister. The fact is he does not have my respect. I know it won’t achieve anything, and is purely a symbolic act, butt if I convince other people to do the same, maybe we can get the asshole out of a place where he has no right to be.

Lyn and I spent yesterday at home, for the most part. I did some work on my thesis, and Lyn composed music in her studio. I did, however, get to watch some TV, and boy did I get a treat. At around midday, Howard Hawks’ ‘His Girl Friday’ (1940) was on. To me, this film is an exemplar of Hollywood of classicism: shot magnificently and highly efficiently, the dialogue almost crackles with greatness. There was one long scene where the whole film comes together – its almost totally dialogue driven, with almost no extra diagetic music. I only whish I could write a fraction as well as that. I’d forgotten how magnificent that film could be – no wonder Hawks was a favourite of the Young Turk writers of cahiers du cinema.

If that wasn’t enough of a treat, in the evening I stumbled onto another gem, this time in terms of comedy. I found a show called ‘Roger and Val have just got In’ on BBC2 (I think). It had Dawn French in. while I like French’s work anyway, I was amazed by this show. The entire episode was composed of just one scene with two characters. Again, it was totally dialogue driven, yet the dialogue was used to create an entire scenario, an entire world with characters who had discernable personalities. For the second time yesterday, I found myself very impressed.

It just goes to show there’s hope for telly yet. There is usually so much dross on, but there are still some gems which you can stand up next to the Hollywood greats.

We recently employed two new personal assistants – a polish couple who recently migrated. I must say how impressed I am with Andrzej and Natalia; I think they have previous experience of personal assistance work. Today, for example, we had a very successful shopping trip. We had a good conversation about British culture in Costa; I was trying to expand Andrzej’s English vocabulary. Rather mischievously, I told him about the phrase ‘smeg head’. Mind you, although I know it’s from Red Dwarf, I’m not entirely sure what smeg is, apart from something obscene. So, in that spirit, I’ll send you here.

I already really like Andrzej and Natalia; they strike me as highly intelligent people. We’ve already had some fascinating conversations, about subjects as diverse as the Russian revolution to the status of disabled people in Poland. Hopefully they’ll be the first conversations of a great many.

One of my online associates contacted me with quite an interesting idea last night. She wrote: ” tactics Matt, split the Lib Dems more than they are split already and the coalition falls. Too lat to stop all the damage but best case scenario. Bigger the protest better for splitting already disenchanted Lib Dems.” As far as I am concerned, this coalition is bad for the country and so must go. The liberals are now effectively the Tories lap-dogs; they seem to have betrayed their instincts in return for power. Yet ttheir support is crucial to CaMoron’s premiership. In other words, take out the lib-dems and the coalition falls. Given that it is doing so much damage to our economy and society, this government must be overturned as soon as possible. Yet, the question is, how do we make Nick clegg put aside his lust for power, and realise that he is playing into the hands of the Tories?

Last night I watched quite an interesting piece on Newsnight about Muslim women wearing the hijab or niqab. It is, of course, a very complex issue, but these women were essentially arguing that they wear it as part of their identity. As I wrote here, I think anyone has a right to wear what they want, and these women have a right to wear veils if they wish. But if this is so, then so do I. given my dress sense often crosses gender boundaries, and given my attitude to religion – that it is just another grand narrative to be deconstructed – why shouldn’t I be allowed to wear a veil? I think it would be a strong statement. If these women feel it liberates them, might it not liberate me?

I will, of course do no such thing. There’s a feeling in the pit of my stomach saying this might be a step too far. Pink party frocks are one thing, but donning a niqab is another. Wearing a dress might get a few odd looks, but nobody will kick my head in, which is what I suspect will happen if I put on a veil. Yet this begs the question why. If we really live in an open and tolerant society, why shouldn’t the same rules apply for everyone, or doesn’t transvestism cross religious boundaries?

It is true that it is only in hindsight that one sees with clarity. For example, I was recently wondering about the best meals of my life: for some reason, I began to wonder, which were the best meals I’ve ever eaten. I came up with a list of three: firstly, there was the seafood buffet I had on new years eve 06/07, in Sydney with my family. We had flown in from the ‘red centre’ that evening, and were lucky to get spaces for the festiivities in our Sydney hotel. The seafood was delicious, and the fireworks made it one of the most memorable evenings of my life.

Then there was the Cuban risotto I had in Paris. When I went there with charlotte, two years ago, we found a little Cuban place near the champs Elysess. I remember it vividly for two reasons: it was there that I drank my first authentic daiquiri, and it was there that charlotte tried to learn to dance Cuban style. I remember it being a truly amazing evening, and one of the best of my life.

The third meal on my list is the least recent, and the most special. In 1994, my parents tool me to the west coast of America. We rented a van, and we toured California, Nevada, and Arizona before going back into California. On one of the last nights, we were up in the Rockies, in Yosemite. Despite the incredible natural beauty, I was miserable, as the chalets we were staying in didn’t have any TV sets. That evening, despite me being in a preadolescent huff, I remember my parents, my brothers and I sitting, up among the redwoods, playing Chinese whispers over a pizza. The sky was so clear that we could see Venus between the mountains. I was young and in a huff, but, looking back, I think that was one of the most magical evenings of my life.

My point is, I think retrospect is the key; none of my favourite meals felt significant at the time. You cant grasp the significance of an event until enough time passes that you can look back on it. Maybe this is the case with politics: Gordon brown is currently portrayed as inept, but I suspect retrospect will show that he saved us from a worldwide depression. I know the two examples are worlds apart, but it is only through hindsight that one can realise the significance of anything, from your three finest meals to the efficacy of a prime minister.

It would seem that hung parliaments are now in fashion. The exit polls of Australia are currently showing that that country too is headed for the type of political turmoil that we went through. I like Australia and Australians, and I really hope that they are spared the shambles we are in, where an essentially far-right party is hiding behind a liberal junior partner in order to make it look respectable. Somehow, though, I don’t think the aussies will stand for that; for the most part, they seem to be a friendly, liberal bunch. On the other hand, its interesting to note ask why elections are so close these days? Is it a sign of insecurity? Might it betray some major worldwide trend – a trend showing widespread unease and indecisiveness? As the societies of the world become increasingly mixed, with people and ideas flowing more freely, I think it’s a sign of the times. The one place we’re not seeing this is the united states, where political views seem to be becoming more polarised, more extreme and less tolerant. What this all means I don’t know, but I cant help wonder where it will lead.

One of the things I love about living in south London is that I am living in a multi-ethnic, multicultural community. The other day, for example, I decided I needed a haircut – my hair was getting quite long and matted. Remarkably for a place as small as Charlton, I had a choice of two places: Trims, where me and Lyn usually go, is a unisex salon run my a nice old lady. The other place, just up the road, is more of a barbers. First I went to trims, but the woman was busy and told me to come back later. I was about to go home, but then I decided to give the other place a try.

This turned out to be run by Turkish gentlemen. Now, at this point I should point out that I no longer have any grievances with the Turks, despite their continued occupation of northern Cyprus. As a kid, I used to listen to my Greek grandfather far too keenly. Anyway, putting politics aside, I rolled in. it was a cross between a conventional British barbershop and a Turkish or Arabic barbers: I was fascinated to see a man being shaved, not with a normal razor but with an old cut-throat razor. I thought those things had been made illegal, and I’d never seen it before. It was like going back in time, or to another place. it felt like something you see on Michael Palin programmes After the shave was over, the gentleman was given a hot towel to put on his face.

Soon it was my turn. Of course, I only needed a haircut – there was no way anyone was coming anywhere near my face with that razor. The haircut I got was efficient, but a bit too short for my liking: I don’t think they get many guys with CP in there, and, as usual, my head kept shaking. Nevertheless, I was still fascinated, as I’d never seen anyone get a shave like that before. but that could just be me being a bit of a yokel. I never saw such things in Cheshire, and it all still feels exotic.

I just saw quite an interesting report on BBC news. the outgoing president of the Royal College of Physicians, Air Ian Gilmore, has called for the legalisation of drugs, he thinks that, if drugs like heroin, cocaine and cannabis are legalised, their use can be regulated and made safe. I, like any other intelligent person, agree with him. It isn’t that drugs are bad; the problem is that their prohibition leads people to get involved in crime. If drugs were regulated, they can be made safe and given out in controlled quantities.

Now, I know from experience that drugs other than alcohol aren’t for me. I have, however, many friends who smoke weed regularly. In the disabled community, many people go through chronic pain which can only be controlled through such drugs. Moreover, as I wrote here, ” No doubt there can be some harmful consequences from such activities, but I have only observed the positive consequences – people having fun, feeling mellow and being happy. I’m informed that the harm comes from ‘bad batches’, which would suggest to me a need for legalisation and regulation of such substances. Bring it away from the underground; this way, at least, the problem of drug crime can be irradiated.” The case, for me, therefore seems obvious: legalise drugs, tolerate them, and – forgive the pun – open your mind to the bigger picture.

Of course, I can’t see this happening with the current government in power. Despite their pretences, the Tory mind seems closed to ways of thinking other than their own. It is, however, good to see someone in authority is still capable of thinking outside the narrow constraints of conservatism.

CaMoron is away on holiday, leaving his lackey clegg to speak to the press. He was towing his master’s line, claiming to be clearing up a mess while pushing through a conservative, individualist ideology. I whish someone would ask him, when, exactly, did he decide to sell his liberal ideals, and how much did the Tories pay? Nick Clegg is a traitor; he has betrayed the working class for his own self gain, for which he and his party should never be forgiven.

Yesterday was an interesting day – very busy, tiring, but very interesting. Lyn and I need a new PA: Dan, for reasons I need not go into here, isn’t working out. So Lyn recently put an ad on Gumtree, and the result, I must say, was very surprising. I always had trouble recruiting new staff up north, but here, in a vast city where virtually everyone is looking for a job, it seems much easier. All thus week, Lyn kept me informed of the number of people coming to be interviewed: it kept going up and up. In the end, eight people were scheduled to come, but one dropped out at the last moment.

Yesterday, then, was rather hectic. At first, I was rather nervous, but Lyn and our Saturday PA Kasia kept everything in order. Kasia really impressed me yesterday, especially given we rather dropped her in it. We conducted four interviews – two were couples – each lasting about an hour. By the end, we were all knackered. I can’t give many details, but I must say we were very impressed by two of the candidates, one of whom recognised my books by Barthes. However, we haven’t made our final decision yet.

Interviewing, then, is an exhausting process. After it was over, we went to the local for a much needed drink. I reckon we earned it yesterday.

I feel rather stupid now. I have a maltron extended keyboard, the keys of which sometimes stick when I dribble. When this happens, my pc emits a large beeping sound, so I unplug it and leave it to dry off. I did this a week ago, but when I plugged the keyboard back in, it didn’t work.

I waited and waited, but my keyboard didn’t seem to be drying. On the other hand, the sound had stopped, so I left it plugged in. the lights were on. On Tuesday, on the advice of my parents, I went out to buy some contact cleaner. I went all the way to North Greenwich, hut when I got there I was told I couldn’t buy any contact cleaner without proving I was over 21. so, on Wednesday, back I went, with my passport, this time buying the stuff I needed.

Yesterday, I kind of prevaricated, but this morning I decided that the problem needed solving. Besides, I had a hunch: I looked behind the keyboard, and, as I suspected, it had been plugged into the wrong hole! It was simply a case of asking Dan to plug it into the correct port and I had my keyboard back. I can blog properly again! If only I had realised sooner.

In my hectic life down here I forgot to wish my older brother mark a happy birthday yesterday. He’s 29 I rarely see Kat and him these days. but I am thinking of him and I hope he had a very good day.

my keyboard is currently on the blink, and writing anything remotely intellent usng the on-screen keyboard would take more patience than I curently have, so I think I’ll directt you here.

Normal revolutionarry ranting will resume shortly.

I still think we need a revolution. Well, maybe not a full blown, fire and pitchfork revolution a la France or Russia, which, lets face it, were rather messy, uncomfortable affairs. But we do need some kind of uprising. CaMoron has already proven himself to be an idiot in the international diplomacy department; and osbourn’s cuts will send us back into a recession which, thanks to brown, we had just got over. It is clear we are being lead by intellectual lightweights, guided by greed, selfishness and the ideology that they, the rich, have a right to rule. We deserve better; we need better. We cant have five years of this.

I am not too sure how much detail I should record about this, as it could be sensitive, but I think it should be blogged about. My partner Lyn keeps getting invoices from the local council for her care. No cover letter comes with them, just an invoice. Obviously they worry Lyn a great deal: her personal care is usually paid for through direct payments and so on, so we don’t understand why they are asking her for this money, which is a hefty sum. She got another such invoice recently, so we rang up to ask why she was getting asked for this money. Predictably, it seems that there has been an administrative cock-up and quite a few people have received such invoices incorrectly. Lyn was told not to worry, but to be honest I think it was a rather unpleasant mistake to make. Lyn is the type of person who can handle almost everything, but wouldn’t you be petrified if you got invoiced for money you didn’t have for a service which is ordinarily paid for but which you couldn’t do without?

Yesterday was quite a cool day. Darryl came to visit. I’ve been speaking to Darryl, online, for about four or five years, but we had never actually met as he lives in Adelaide. He’s a very cool guy, and I must say I really like his PA, Ferg. They were in Europe for a conference in Barcelona, and fit in a visit to London.

I was really pleased to meet him, as it was because of Darryl that I met Lyn. Darryl told Lyn about me, so she looked me up on the web, and the rest, as they say, is history. Thus finally meeting him, here, with Lyn, was very satisfying indeed; hopefully it will be just the first of many times I see him. Who knows: maybe we can go visit him in Australia one day.

CaMoron is currently on the radio in the midlands trying to sell his spending cuts to the people. in other words, he’s trying to appear a man of the people, trying to tell us these cuts are the wisest course of action. It makes me sick: why doesn’t he just admit that these cuts are ideologically motivated? Why doesn’t he just say ”I’m going to cut your services, benefits and standard of living so I can give my rich friends a tax cut”. That’s the truth of it. Instead he’s giving us all a fatuous little show, trying to pretend his politics is not the greed-motivated, narrow-minded set of edicts it is. CaMoron is already fucking up international relations too. The stupid little man must go.

We were over on the south bank yesterday afternoon, enjoying the city. It was a lovely day, and it was quite busy. We’d taken the tube to Westminster, then crossed the river. There, near the London eye, we found a load of street performers – people pretending to be statues and the like – and it gave me an idea. I began to wonder if I could be such a performer: after all, these fools were making money just by standing still. Obviously the idiots on the south bank would give money for anything.

So, the question is, what could I do? I can’t stay still for toffee, so obviously pretending to be a statue is out of the question; I can’t draw or play an instrument either. I might be able to recite poetry from my lightwriter. I decided that doing a live version of Spastic Ballet might be cool, until they arrested me, I needed the loo, or I fell over. I’m still trying to think of something.

After looking at these street artists for a bit, we went to the British film institute for a coffee and to see if there was a book store. I found something awesome in there: the bar in the BFI sells Vespers, made to bond’s original recipe, and, of course, shaken, not stirred. I didn’t have any, as it was very expensive and too early, but I think I’ll definitely have to go back there, with or without my tutu.

It turns out that Dan is a pretty adept gardener – a very surprising revelation indeed. Our garden has needed a face-lift for a while; it was getting rather overgrown around the edges. So, earlier this week, we went to the garden centre to get some nice flowers. We also bought a pretty little water feature to sit in the corner, and yesterday and the day before our p.a Dan was busily weeding, pruning, raking and planting. The result, I must say, is really rather impressive: I was in the garden earlier, reading. I could hear the trickling of the solar-power water feature, and I could look up and see the brightly coloured flowers, and it was blissful. My dad is a keen gardener, and, as a child and adolescent, I used to play or read in our garden. I was reminded of those days earlier, filled with Tonka trucks and Tolkien, and I was struck by how pleasantly domestic my life now is with Lyn.

Today I think I will just send you all to this video by Alan Holdsworth. It’s about people who have – or are described as having – learning difficulties, and questions many of the preconceptions people commonly hold. The film is not without it’s problems: the opening demand of ‘full inclusion now’, for example, should be treated with caution. Inclusion should be treated carefully, and I am now of the opinion that to rush head long into full inclusion, blinded by dogma to the consequences, is folly. Anyway, the film is still very interesting; go watch.

Lyn and I are currently training up a new PA – Godfrey – to work alongside Dan. They are currently working together; they seem to enjoy it, as they’re good friends. Both are rather noisy people, and seem to love computer games, so it’s almost ,like there’s a family in our house. Lyn and I are the parents, and godfrey and Dan are our rather hyperactive boys.

Seriously though I’m rather pleased with how things are coming along, godfrey is very punctual and attentive; he does, however, use a very curious form of English. For instance, last week he claimed to have ‘Bigged’ something to mean he had mastered it. The local dialect really is strange. I really must teach my sons better use of language.

I think I am starting to get to know London quite well, and I’m starting to get used to it’s ways. At first, it was a strange, intimidating, laberynthine place; coming down here as a kid to visit my grandparents, I always felt a little scared. Yet now the fear has been replaced with fascination.

I felt pleased with myself this week: I mastered the docklands light railway! Lyn and I wanted to go to Greenwich market, but first I needed money. We worked out that the easiest way to achieve our goals was for me to go to Woolwich and then rendezvous with Lyn and godfrey in Greenwich. This meant me taking the DLR alone, which made me feel apprehensive. However, as it turned out, the DLR turned out easy to use – I just told the guard where I was going, and he arranged the ramps – and I even got there before Lyn!

I know it’s only getting on a train, but it made me feel proud of myself. It’s just another little step towards a complete mastery of my world, and away from the timid little boy I was ten years ago.

Tomorrow, youtube intends to make a film called ‘Life in a day’; it apparently wants as many users as possible to film things that are pertinent to them, and send the footage in. the overall film is going to be directed/edited by Ridley Scott, and is intended to create a snapshot of life on earth. It won’t, of course, as only certain types of people – western, petit-bourgeois nerdy types – will send their footage in. everyone else will be too busy to piss about with Youtubes projects. Thus while I think iit really is a great idea, and will probably form a fascinating film, the project will ultimately fall short of it’s goal.

Link

This place seems to have gone Ipad crazy. Both Lyn and our pa Dan have one, and they both seem to be constantly using them. More often than not, they’re playing games on there – the Ipad has various little puzzle games which are apparently highly addictive. Every now and again, I hear little yelps of joy as someone goes up a level. I wouldn’t mind – I tried playing one on Sunday and it really was engrossing – but it has reached the point of silliness. I popped down to Woolwich yesterday afternoon, and when I came back, it was like I had entered some weird dimension where I didn’t exist; everyone was so fixated on their Ipads it was like I’d become invisible. I’m now considering buying one, just so I don’t feel so left out.

It has certainly been quite a day. Yesterday I got a text from dad telling me that my uncle aki and aunt Dinah were coming to visit. Thu would have been an exciting prospect in itself, but in he event at about half four they arrived with my uncle David, my cousin Christina and her fianc tom. I knew immediately it would be a good evening.

It was great to see them. It feels like an age since I saw any of them, and I was glad they made the effort to come. I think I last saw them all at my cousin Alexander’s wedding in brazil, and, before then, I had a meal with uncle Aki and aunt Dinah, as well as Mark and Kat, when I visited Paris with Charlotte. It felt good to be the host this time. I don’t exactly live locally though – Charlton is, in a way, off their beaten track. I showed them a nearby park, and a bit of the village, and we had drinks and crisps in our garden. I felt very grown up, as if me and Lyn were any other couple playing host to visiting family. It made me feel very proud indeed, being able to show my family our home.. I think they were impressed, and they said they would return before too long. All told, it’s been a terrific day.

We just got back from the O2 arena. All this week there is a sixties exhibition there, and radio caroline is broadcasting from it. Lyn couldn’t resist going to see her favourite radio station in action.

It really was fascinating stuff; as well as caroline, the exhibition explores the music of the decade, which, as we all know, was rich and vibrant. It really got me thinking, and I decided that it was not about music but about history, politics and power. I realised that, while all art forms are powerful, music is perhaps especially so. In that decade, combined with drugs and the hippie movement, music became a force to be reckoned with; it taps directly into the soul.

I think today we need to revive that spirit. Forty years ago, people seemed more politicised, and the music reflects this. we seem these days to have lost something; perhaps it is still there but has been drowned out by mass produced pap. Either way, I think the time is come, with an unelected narrow-minded toff in number ten, to reignite the spirit of that era.

I was just watching the news, and was appalled to find out that CaMoron is now on about cutting the BBC license fee. They claim the beeb is wasteful, and needs to be cut as part of the so-called ‘austerity drive’, but we all know that’s bull, and that they’re acting out of ideology. Everyone knows the Tories hate the bbc. I, on the other hand, support it strongly; it is fair, unbiased, and balanced; in this country we are fortunate to have possibly the finest broadcasting organisations on earth. The Tories hate it because it tells the truth rather than reflecting their narrow-minded views.

In a way, then, they are trying to dismantle the free press. Seen in this light, this is a move towards fascism and totalitarianism. The bbc is only as excellent as it is, as fair as it is, because of the way it is funded. To cut the license fee means it has less money, and less money means it cannot be as effective in news gathering. In short, the government is trying to silence one of it’s main potential detractors. They must be stopped,

The case of Raoul Moat still chills me. Yesterday CaMoron stood up in parliament and condemned those who showed sympathy for the gunman: apparently he has become a heroic figure to some. I do not, of course, is view, but nor do I simply dismiss Moat simply as an evil, vicious killer. The man needed psychiatric help; he was a disturbed, mixed up individual. It is folly to ignore the background of this case, and simply see it in terms of good and bad, as CaMoron apparently does.

This is what I find so unsettling. What provoked this attack? What lead Moat o act as he did? What failed in the system so catastrophically o allow this to happen? More to the point, I keep wondering what was going through his head? Why did he shoot himself. Simply to dismiss this as a case of an evil man run amok is far, far too simple, as it’s much more complex than that. What it says about how we treat the mentally inn in the UK I find particularly troubling.