Things seem to be going from bad to worse in Israel, with Hamas now promising a ‘day of wrath” in retribution for Israel’s actions. The cycle of violence seems to have started up again after a brief lull. What gets me, though, is how Israel acts all innocent, claiming to be the victim; don’t they don’t realise is that they are causing

the situation by issuing air strikes on largely civilian areas. To me, the Israelis are the aggressors in this situation here for acting so disproportionately. The Palestinians throw a few petrol bombs; the Israelis respond with cruise missiles and jet fighters.

I’m not saying that I condone hamas or its actions. One of it’s stated aims is to destroy Israel, and it denies the holocaust ever happened. But Israel, as a democracy, has to be held to account for it’s war crimes and totally unjustified actions. It uses the ‘war on terror’, it’s closeness to the u.s, and a little residual western guilt, to get away with murder.

1.finish MA

2.decide what to do after MA

3.be better to Lyn

4.travel lots 5.catch brandy

I realise that I may have given some the impression, the other day, that I believe we crips should be tame and submissive. I assure you now this is not the case. The more we stand up for our rights, the better. And the last thing I want is for us all to lay down and accept fate passively.

But what I object to is those in the disabled community who think the world is out to get them. This talk of hatred, this talk of oppression, is neither healthy nor accurate. Without a doubt, we crips face obstacles – steps, heavy doors, etc – but these are not tokens of manifest aggression towards disabled people.. the world is changing, but it hasn’t changed quite enough yet. For example, there’s this door in the canteen at uni; it’s wooden, and I always had trouble opening it in my chair. However, after I had broken it five or six times, uni twigged that it would be easier and cheaper to fit a door opening button than to keep having to replace the glass in the door. I didn’t have to say a word, just to keep trying tto use the door.

My point is there is more than one way to skin a cat, and also that, just because we may face certain obstacles,, it does not mean we are oppressed. Some talk of suffering, but how is it suffering to live in one of the most affluent nations on earth? I just think it’s time some of us lost the chip on their shoulder, stopped thinking the world was against them, and grew a sense of perspective.

We just got home after visiting my Greek gran in London, I managed to spend three out of our four days down south at Lyn’s. well, I couldn’t waste the opportunity to see my girlfriend, could I? despite the temperature, we had a great time; I think we both enjoy each-other’s company very much.

Lyn lives in her own bungalow with Boomba, the cat. She has a good set of personal assistants. Frankly, it got me thinking: maybe one day I’ll have something similar. I think visiting Lyn’s opened my eyes a bit. I also got to see a bit more of the capital.

Anyway, I have unpacking to do and tea to drink. But managing to go see Lyn has given me a sense of satisfaction.

I suppose it has been some time since I wrote anything of considerable length. The truth is I’ve been rather busy, what with the brazil trip followed by Christmas. I don’t write much about disability issues any more – not that I did much in the first place – because I think I’ve lost interest. Frankly, I’m disillusioned with the entire disabled movement with it’s in-fighting and endless talk of victimisation. They talk and talk about how ‘we’ are persecuted minority, about how we suffer, without actually doing much. While I agree that disabled people are still at a disadvantage in some areas of life, I do not think this is cause to say that we are a repressed minority. Sometimes, the community remind me of a load of emo-kids moaning about how bad life is. They go on and on about how we need to fight and so on, but what they do not realise is such talk ostracises us.

Then they accuse me of not being politicised. I am highly political, but in my own way. Indeed, everything is political on some level. It’s just that, when I look at some of the pessimistic lachrymose tripe some people come out with, about how we are hated and repressed, I start to think ‘oh get over yourself’. I get the impression that they think they are speaking for us all, which really gets up my nose. There seems to be some sort of in-crowd in the disabled community, which I cant figure out how to get into. This annoys me.

the computer made 2 pposts instead of one. dunno why. might as well use this oppertunity to wish you all a mery christmas. hope its a good one.

We now have the unfortunately named nintendo Wii. Luke and my parents are currently downstairs playing on it. It certainly appears to be a most impressive bit of technology: you can even get the internet on it. We all love the novelty of the ability to access email or even this website from the comfort of the downstairs sofa.

As for myself, though, it looks far too fiddily for me to use. The controller looks especially difficult; give me my extended keyboard and rollerball any day. And as for that balance-board, it looks like a disaster waiting to happen when it comes to yours truly. Mind you, I’d love to have a go on that steering wheel thing.

The wii thing causes another problem, though: it ties up the big TV so I can’t watch james bond. I now have the entire collection every bond film, except quantum of solace, on DVD. They’re in a box set. How cool is that? Mind you, at the rate they’re going, I won’t be able to use the TV to watch them until sometime next year. Silly wii.

I read with disgust this morning how the pope has condemned homosexuality as being just as much a threat o humanity as deforestation. As a bisexual currently in a very happy relationship with a trans-girl, these comments strike me as the ravings of a lunatic old man out of touch with the modern world. Indeed, if you think about it, one of the biggest threats to humanity is the anti-contraceptive attitude of the catholic church. The earth is over-populated, so it beggars belief that contraception should be prevented in some areas.

Perhaps I’m getting too Dawkinsian, but isn’t it time we realised that religion is ultimately bad? I see it as a bunch of fairy-stories designed to keep power in the hands of a few stupid old men. I mean, talking snakes? World-wide floods? It’s bollocks. Yet some old nazi in Rome, who claims to be speaking for god, comes out with the most abhorrent, bigoted hogwash, and yet is listened to. I’m sorry if this offends any of my readers, but when you look at this objectively, it really is stupid.

This old man’s comments have upset me in their bigotry and their hypocrisy. Why should we have to listen to such idiotic crap? Okay, I know I have no right to tell people what to think; and I know many people who draw great strength from their faith. Far be it for me to try to take that away from them. I just think it is wrong to mix politics and religion – the two should remain separate or else they destroy each other.

I just waved Charlie off, after a very pleasant afternoon together. It was good to have her here after I have visited the Jones household so many times; it seemed only fair that I returned the gesture. Also, I derive a certain satisfaction from bringing my friends here – it feels rather like completing something. We mostly spent the afternoon here, although we went out to a local pub for a beer and a natter. I really did need to catch up with gossip; as I predicted, she set a few things out in my head

Charlie couldn’t stay the night – Charlie being Charlie, she had other engagements tonight. But I look forward to her calling again, and we’ve set the ball rolling on a few plans. Also, I think mum liked c’s company too, especially when she played the piano for us.

Ahh…peace.

Mark and Kat are here. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen them since the summer, and it feels good to once again see my older brother sitting at the kitchen table. It is a truly rare event these days; I just popped up here to check my email and type my blog entry before the evening’s excesses.

Come tomorrow, Luke will be here in the evening with yan. C is popping in mid morning too so I have a busy day. Having said that, I’m enjoying the relative calm of home – it feels so cozy and snug, as if it has barely changed since I was a child. Indeed, tomorrow I’ll be able to show charlotte the very room where I was born (assuming its ok with mum and dad). No matter how far I may roam, in my chair or on horseback, this place will always be my fixed point of reference, my north star. I guess this means I’m just a big kid.

Truth is I have a bit on my brain. My master’s is going well, and I’m still very interested in it; yet the question remains about what I’ll do after. I’m also in a quandary about my..well, lets say other areas of my life which it would be imprudent to write about here just yet. There are things I need to consult my family and friends about – things I do not know how to handle. Coming here, back home, I’ll be in the best position to do this.

Certain pictures of appeared on Facebook of me on something called a horse. For those of you who do not know, horses are like wheelchairs, but with legs instead of wheels, and a guy with a rope instead of a joystick. This enables them to go over rough terrain. As such I am considering getting one instead of a new chair, although I suspect uni might not approve.

Joking aside, I rode my uncle’s horse while out in brazil. It’s a tired old animal, whose age is beyond reckoning and whose name nobody knows; but it lives on uncle David’s farm and proved very useful last week. There was no way we could get my manual chair across such rough ground, but on horseback I had no problem.

Getting me onto its back was a slight issue, but once I had worked out how to keep myself up there, it really was rather fun. I last rode when I was about five, as part of a riding for the disabled scheme at school: the logic behind such things is still a mystery to me – perhaps they were planning to make a cripple cavalry regiment in the hope of spastics on horseback might confuse the enemy into surrender. Anyway, this time, under the blazing brazilin sun, I had a great time, and, just to myself, decided on a name for the tired old horse.

The only name befitting such a noble animal: I named it Shadowfax, after the lord of all steeds.

For some reason dad does not like Cat Empire. I came home for Christmas yesterday, and my father set up my PC this morning. Of course this meant I immediately loaded up Winamp and put on some tunes while I caught up with emails. Dad, meanwhile, got on with other stuff, like decking the halls. All was going well until I put on cat empire. I don’t know why dad doesn’t like CA – frankly, they have more talent than 95% of the other bands currently on the market. They’re eclectic, play their own instruments and are cross-cultural. Dad, however, complained about ‘that racket’.

I am, nevertheless, looking forward to this holiday. It feels like it has been a long term; I’ve made a lot of progress academically, although the social side of things has been toned down. Frankly, with fewer of my friends on campus, it’s no longer the place it once was. I also have a few decisions to make, like what to do after university.

A rest, then, will do me good. I think I need the securities of home to steady myself, to defrag my brain, as it were. Charlotte is planning to pop by on Tuesday, and I could do with her advice on a few things. I/we also have next year to plan. For now, though, I plan to sit back, relax, and listen to more Cat empire.

I decided to go have coffee with Mayer today – it was my last chance before the end of term, and I didn’t feel much like work. Then I planned to swing by Alan’s office before returning here. Coffee, however, turned into a three hour affair, followed by a shopping spree. In the end I visited Alan much later than expected; u also spoke to trish, for reasons which will soon become apparent.

Me and lee got to talking about education, the future and so on. During this conversation, lee explained how he thinks there are two distinct groups of people in society; about how they do separate jobs; about how you can go to one to another through education. What he was describing was Marxism, but I don’t think Lee knew it as such. It was at that point that I realised that my friend should be doing business studies or politics at university, and I told him as much.

Lee lacks confidence. He replied that he would need a lot of help with vocabulary and so on. These, of course, could be overcome – frankly my main concern would be his essay writing skills, but all that is needed to remedy this is a half decent LSA and a few lessons on grammar.

Although I stand by the modification to my stance on special schools I made after visiting Hebden, I still think the special school system has a lot to answer for. It left lee with a few low GCSEs and even lower confidence. I don’t think he realises how academically bright or capable he is. While it is certainly true that special schools do very good work in other areas, it is also evident that people like lee leave school with lower expectations for themselves than perhaps they should have.

After we had said goodbye, I made my way to campus to see Alan. I just needed to call in, let him know my news, and so on. I then had a short, but very worthwhile, chat with trish Belfield, head of foundation year. It would seem that Lee has a very good chance of getting to university, were he to apply. Of this I have no doubt; nor do I doubt that lee would thrive here, perhaps finding the spark that he seems of late to be lacking. The question is, how do I convince him he’s up to it?

I just got back to campus, and I do not feel that bad. After a thirty something hour flight yesterday, I could be feeling much worse, but a good night’s kip in my own bed followed by some coffee and juice recharged my batteries. I’m just back on campus to tie up loose ends before Christmas.

Brazil was different than I expected. Somehow it was more cramped. Our first day there Luke came down with a nasty virus which, almost inevitably, spread. Two days later, I got it. Not fun. It was lovely to see the family though.

My uncle owns a farm in brazil; he and my aunt moved out there in the seventies or early eighties, and they made a family there. They had two children: Christina, a botanist who proved herself very adept at looking after extended family last week, and Alexander, whose marriage we went to witness. They seem to be doing well out there – the farm is large and thriving; my aunt seems very happy indeed. Despite my cold, I had a great deal of fun; the highlight was probably getting to ride a horse around the farm, my wheelchair being most unsuitable. Chris took us to a great big party in the local football stadium one night, although, true to form, I fell asleep in my wheelchair. I also met some relatives who I hadn’t seen since I was five: my uncles brother and his family, who proved to be most excellent people. Claire and rob are about my age, and I look forward to getting to know them properly on facebook.

The wedding itself was magnificent. It was held at the cathedral in belem, where Alex works. The service was catholic, I think; everyone looked amazing. After that, there came the drinking and dancing and the whiskey and the falling-asleep-in-the-wheelchair.

So, in all I had a great time. Alex is the first of ‘us’ (by which I mean those still referred to as the children at family gatherings) to get married. I’m not sure who is going to be next, but Alex and Sueleny’s marriage will be a tough act to follow.

Lyn came to visit yesterday; she and Zita have just started off back down to London. Lyn stayed the night at mine, and it has been the best 24 hours. Mind you, we didn’t get up too much – we decided that it was wiser to stay on campus. I took Lyn to rehearsal, and I fear she got bored. But all in all I think we had fun. We just enjoyed each other’s company. I took Lyn to brandies last night, which was seriously good fun, although we left early. I think Lyn liked it.

Probably the worst thing is, I don’t know when I’ll see her again. Christmas looks quite busy for me. I’m determined to get to her, sometime. The main issue, I guess, is when. At the moment it looks like new year or after, but I’m sure I’ll find a way.

I am very pleased to report that the play I went to last night was very good indeed. It was called summertime, although I’m not sure why, and it contained some of the best acting I’ve seen on campus. Steven, the director, deserves top marks; for one thing, this performance actually had something close to a plot, something rather bold around here. While some of the acting left a bit to be desired, all in all it was of a high standard. Mind you, there were one or two outrageous French accents.

As for the actress I mentioned yesterday, I’m in two minds over what to write here. Ultimately, I should just write about her as if I was dealing with any other performer, as the fact that she uses a chair is irrelevant. Yet I do think that Steven’s choice to cast her as a middle-aged lesbian is a bold, provocative and commendable one. he could have highlighted the chair, or hid the actress – whose name currently escapes me – in the background. He did neither, but gave her a role which stood out in and of itself. It was as if the director was saying ‘so what’, which is, of course, what we all should be saying. To the director, to the cast and to the audience, the fact that one of the actors was disabled was irrelevant.

Such things would hardly be mentioned by any other reviewer, of course, for that very reason. But I do think an important semiotic point was made last night. In not drawing attention to disability, he drew my attention. I think what they did was very commendable. My hat goes off to them.

I think tonight should be interesting. There’s a show on campus with a disabled person in it. I often see the actress in question on campus, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her act. It’s directed by a visiting tutor from the stated, and I’m extremely interested to see how he uses a person with a disability on stage. Will they be sidelined? Hidden? Or, on the contrary, will the director overcompensate? I’ll report back soon.

I just saw the first episode of After Rome: Holy War and Conquest, a bbc programme on the history of Islam and it’s interactions with Europe. It’s what I’d describe as ‘liberal’, – fair, balanced and open minded; it wasn’t afraid to show us Christians/western Europeans in a bad light, or to criticise the Muslims when appropriate. What I find amazing, and what has stopped me in my tracks, is that this ‘liberal’ programme was eloquently presented by a leading Tory MP, Boris Johnson.

The choice of presenter does two things: personally, if forces me to re-think my attitude towards the Tories: they obviously weren’t as narrow-minded and ignorant of history as I thought. Secondly, and more importantly, it sends a message to the right, saying there is no room for ethnic or religious intolerance in modern politics. Hats off to both Mr Johnson and the BBC.

Although this article from the so-called disability bitch is plainly meant to be ironic, I feel that there is a grain of truth to it. Disabled people are often turned upon when the going gets tough. While I still raise an eyebrow when people claim we crips are ‘opressed’, I do think this credit crunch thing might hit us worse than most.

That said, I’m about to go xmas shopping.

We all know that the blogger has more and more political clout these days; there’s quite a convincing argument to suggest that blogs helped sway the American election. More of what we know comes from so-called citizen-reporters. Blogs were apparently a valuable tool in aiding our understanding of events like the tsunami and the recent terror attacks in Mumbai. However, it occurs to me that blogs can be very useful for people with communication disabilities, like myself.

Take the entry I made earlier. Ordinarily such a blog entry, unless it was on some girls livejournal, wouldn’t have appeared – how is my return to campus blogworthy? Blogs, as I say, are for political and social commentary; they shouldn’t be a narration of one’s life or one’s internal monologue. Unless, I’d maintain, you’re like me.

Often – I cannot speak for everyone here – people with communication disabilities find it hard to explain stuff at length. Plus, when you’re trying to tell a lot of people something at once, and you’re not sure how to word it in an email, it’s often prudent just to allude to it in a blog entry. Earlier, I needed to tell both Ricardio and jo I’d tried to turn up to rehearsal; my parents what had happened; it also told Ricardio that I will need him at tea time. It told Lyn and everyone else I was back on campus. Bada bing bada boom.

Talking of such problems, I neglected to ask my parents if Lyn could come stay over Christmas. I know its not as simple as Luke having yan come to stay or mark and Kat coming up from Paris. First she has wheels. Second Katrina would have to come too. Third how would grandma and yaiya react? Grandma especially. Then I don’t want mum to think she has more work to do. Plus what about timings? And then and then and then. But at least, by raising the subject, I have increased the possibility. By telling people without telling them, it gives them room for manoeuvre.

Annoyingly I have just hurried back to campus, after a restful weekend at home, only to find that rehearsal has been cancelled. Well, more specifically, the rehearsers are nowhere to be seen. I’m annoyed – I whish someone had told me. Whets more, I made dad drive me here especially. Strangely though, Rob’s not here either, so I’m about ho head over to Ricardio”s place to find out what’s going on.

Pointless blog entry, I know, but at least it lets you all know I’m still alive.

After a quick detour off the wagon caused by a trip to charlottes and my subsequent lack of willpower, I am back on the wagon. My last drink was on Sunday,, and, as per my father’s advice, I do not intend to drink for two weeks. To be honest I feel better for it; I’ve been able to do some good work and feel much more cheerful. Now, I’m not going teetotal, but suspect my special occasions only strategy is the way forward. Besides, the rarer the drink, the better the taste.

I got lost today. Totally, utterly, and completely lost. Well, that is a slight exaggeration – I knew I was near Crewe, but I was lost. I went looking for Lee’s house – I knew roughly where that was, so I kept going in the right general direction. However, I was almost at Leighton hospital, with defiant’s power gauge just showing one amber light left, when I decided I had taken a wrong turn. With the gauge flashing danger warnings, I caught the bus back to Crewe, then the 20 to alsager.

Today started well enough. after morning, I settled down to write, then found I needed more evidence to back up my ideas. First I went to the library, which wasn’t much use, then over to consult Alan in Crewe. I had a short, but very encouraging meeting with him – he seems to like my current line of enquiry, concerning the politicisation of film in the French new wave, very much – then I decided to do some more Christmas shopping in Crewe. Bought one present. Then decided to go find lee.

You know, I never did found his house.

It has been my first thousand word day in ages. in stark contrast to my recent performance, this morning the words were flowing out of me, and I felt on top form. I managed to get a solid 3 hours done, so I’m pleased. Also, this afternoon I went Christmas shopping. This isn’t my favourite task, as I never know what to get anyone, but I have made a good start. I’m quite pleased with myself, and am starting to recover my spark. Plus, next week Lyn is coming to visit – on the bus all the way home, I just couldn’t stop thinking about what a lovely time we will have.

I was very interested to find out, over dinner last night, that Ricardio is now learning makaton. He apparently has to learn it for his job, teaching at a college in stoke.

I last encountered makaton back at school; it’s a writing and signing system for people with learning difficulties. I must admit that, back then, arrogant little child that I was, I didn’t see much of a point. Why not just teach people how to read normally, I reasoned. At the same time, I was sort of fascinated by it, from a linguistic perspective. I wonder, for example, if you can use Makaton to write any sort of complex narrative.

Even so, there’s something very amusing about Ricardio using makaton. I know it’s a very good thing, and I shouldn’t laugh, but it’s like a professor of chemistry using one of those kids chemistry sets. Also, once again I find that my old world bursts into my new one.

At least it’s a sign that the world is becoming more inclusive. Perhaps one day they’ll start using it around uni.

I know I should stop just bursting in, uninvited and unannounced, on people; it really is a bad habit.

I’m currently test-driving a new wheelchair, called a quantum. Yesterday I invited my friend lee Mayer over from Crewe, since he knows a bit about chairs. He arrived around eleven – the plan was to go somewhere together – me in the quantum, him in defiant. When lee suggested we both go to Chester, I thought it a wonderful idea – it’s a fascinating city, great for Christmas shopping, and perhaps I could pop in on Charlie and the joneses.

Getting there was easier than I thought. I instantly fell in love with the quantum’s mid-wheel-drive manoeuvrability, especially when getting on and off busses. It is much easier than the f55. plus, in terms of speed, although the f55 accelerates faster than the quantum, their top speed is like-for-like. In short, I was extremely impressed.

We got to Chester later than I hoped, given the busses tendency to stop every few meters. Lee muttered something about public transport. Anyway, we took a tour of the city centre, at one stage encountering a bunch of vicious looking school kids, who I think were very curious about us: ”Look, that one’s smoking a cigar”. (cigar smoking, by the way, seems to suit Mayer) I must say though, I did overhear a disproportionate amount of comments about us yesterday (”don’t laugh” etc) and felt very got at.

When I got bored of the city centre, which, admittedly, didn’t take too long, I decided that it would be nice to introduce lee to charlotte. I remembered that the joneses don’t live too far from the city centre, but had forgotten precisely where. So we asked for directions, and thus began a wild goose chase which, about an hour and a half later, saw us both turning up at the joneses door.

Quite what the joneses really think of me randomly turning up every so often I do not know, they’re such genuinely nice people they welcomed us in. Mrs j. gave us toast and tea, and we sat there warming up by the fire in their large, homely kitchen. It turned out, however, that Charlie wasn’t there after all – she was at her brother’s place in London, where they had seen him perform the night before. Nevertheless, we had a good talk, and lee got to meet poppy and will, C’s younger siblings.

We didn’t stay too long – I didn’t want to intrude too much – and we left after about an hour. Mrs. Jones and Will walked us back to the bus station, but, seeing as the bus was going to be 45 minutes later, they left us in subway. We again had no problems with thee busses, save for the waiting, and we got back to alsager about half ten.

It was too late and too cold for Mayer to drive home, so I asked security to open up an empty room at the other end of Westfield flat. They kindly obliged, and, after I had lent lee some pyjama bottoms, and after we had talked a bit, we both went to bed exhausted.

As much as I loathe the British national party, and find their ‘politics’ a heady mix of xenophobia, testosterone and ignorance, I must say that I’m appalled that a list of bnp supporters has been published and that such a fuss is being made over it. While I may find the fact that bnp supporters are teaching kids unpalatable, one’s political stance must be irrelevant when applying for a job. The same goes for age, ethnicity, gender, or whatever. If we go down this route, where will it end? Shall we say that if you’re religious you can’t teach science? Hell no. if you are white you can’t teach about slavery? How absurd. Politics should be left at the workplace door. Surely as soon as we make any such move we become as bigoted as we accuse them of being.

I was feeling abit down this morning; work hasn’t been going to schedule. I waas at my pc from about 20 past 9 till about lunchtime, trying to work and not getting very far. I must admit I’ve been feeling low about it recently.

At about 12 I went out onto campus. Time for a cheeseburger and a change of scenery. I also like just rolling about to see whats going on, if anything. I have also found this also bit of ground which is perfect for doughnutting, just outside the sports labs. Anyway, after lunch I bumped into Tony.

I’ve probably known Tony shaw since our first year. I think I’ve mentioned before he now works here with the drama technicians, but I remember him from film lectures and seminars. He was/is in our friendship group, and I remember him joining us over in the cool side of the wes on many occasions.(in my second and third year, whenever I needed company, I could always go over to what I call ‘the cool side of the wes’. I could always find Emma or Charlie or Vanessa or someone in there). Now, Tony is the only one of those guys still about, and I must say I’m very glad of his presence.

We got to chatting. ”If you’re gonna ask if I’ve seen Quantum of solace,” he said, ”the answer is no.” I wasn’t. instead I told him I was feeling down and I couldn’t do it. Tony then told me to stop being so stupid. ”You’ve probably just hit a wall. Go speak to Alan..” well, as it stands I’ve got a meeting with Alan tomorrow.

Its funny how a meeting like that can cheer you up. Tony is one of those people in the picture in the conservatory at home. Taken on graduation day, this picture reminds me of what I can achieve. Thus, in a funny way, even Tony’s presence here makes me feel more confident.

Today has started exceptionally well. At breakfast time I have home help, for a variety of reasons, and today a new lady came to help gget me up: unlike the other women, who are, let’s say, more mature, this one – Alison – is 25, familiar with internet culture and into greenday. She has a good sense of irony and sarcasm, and I think we got on. I suspect breakfast time is going to be slightly more fun with her.

Moreover, I was just passing through the student union, procrastinating, and the lady in the office flagged me down. She wanted to check my bank details – it turns out that the S.U had neglected to pay me for some work I did for them a year or so ago. I am now 130 quid better off than I was before breakfast. Get in!

Last night’s meeting of the cast of rage went better than I expected. Jo, the production manager, had prepared contracts so now we’re all obliged to show up or phone in with a good excuse. It’s all very official, but I think it’s necessary in order to get the job done. I think the cast agrees, and after a few slight quibbles over bus times etc, they all signed up. I am now officially part of ‘the very important theatre company’ in the role of co-director. How cool is that? Mind you, we now need to convince Ricardio we are committed.

Plus, I went to a live music night in brandies last night, which was fairly cool. There were dancers too.

So all in all I’m in a good mood. Wonder what to spend the 130 quid on.

Oooh. look what I found. monty python has a youtube channel. very nice it is too. now, back to work.

I fear our production of Rage might be going pear-shaped. I went to rehearsal yesterday, and there were about five people there. Ricardio was understandably pissed off and disheartened, so much so that he went home. We decided to go on with rehearsal anyway, to show our commitment, meaning that I, with dan’s help, got to do a little directing.

But I agree with Ricardio. If nobody is going to turn up there’s very little point. Ricardio is a great director, a fact which most of the cast seem to fail to appreciate. Having seen him in action he’s the best director on campus, and he produces the best stuff. Except perhaps for Pool, No water, no other drama show I have seen here on campus came even remotely close to his Outsider or 100 Years of Solitude. Thus, for the cast to be so disrespectful as to use this production as a plaything I find appauling. They act as if it is a social club, whereas they should be cherishing this opportunity. Don’t they want to be actors for heaven’s sake?

Anyway, there is apparently going to be a cast meeting sometime soon. I hope Ricardio, Jo or dan give them all the dressing down they need.

It has certainly been quite a cool couple of days. Lyn, my girlfriend, came to visit yesterday, and she stayed the night. We into Crewe today; I took her around town, just to show her the sites and to do some shopping. She then caught the train home, by which time I must admit I was quite tired and rather drunk, having declared it a special occasion.

However, I’m now worried that I didn’t say goodbye to Lyn suitably. I was zonked, having had one too many, and I fear that I may have been distracted and missed the opportunity to tell her I love her. Lyn Levett is utterly unique, and I count myself lucky to have her as my girlfriend. She is unlike any other person I have ever known, and I hope she gets home ok. I certainly hope I didn’t upset her. She is, quite literally, one in a billion.

As I write she’ll be on a train, probably approaching London. I hope she gets home o.k, and I hope she knows, despite my not telling her, that she inspires me, and makes my world a brighter place.

Critics, as we all know, are idiots. Those who are panning quantum of solace especially so, for the new james bond film rules. I saw it in Chester last night with Charlotte, and although it could never beat casino royale, it exceeded my expectations. Me and c have agreed that it will be a tradition of ours to henceforth go see every bond film together.

Okay, there were one or two holes in the plot, but those critics who are claiming it wasn’t true to bond – the critic in the Sunday Times decried itt for not having any witty one liners, for example – clearly know nothing of Ian Fleming’s 007. this was a cold, heartless bastard who wouldn’t think twice about killing. He was disturbed by the death of the one woman he truly loved. For me, Daniel Craig is Fleming’s bond, and hence those critics who long for the ‘wit’ of moore or the gadgets of brosnan clearly know very little of the true 007.

Bond is back..

I have been in the wes all morning reading cahiers. Specifically, I was reading the ’57 transcript of a conversation between Bazin, chabrol etc known as Six characters in search of an auteur. It’s one of the birthplaces of the nuvelle vague, and one of two or three birthplaces of the discourse we call cinephilia. While I was there, the music guys walk in – sidge and si and their friends. I was highly amused by the juxtaposition between the two conversations I had become privy to. The one mainly concerned with the state of French cinema just after the war, and thee other concerned largely with bestiality and the existence of mermaids. Mind you, the transcript did contain ellipsis, so you never know.

Talking about film, guess what I’m going to see tonight. A couple of months ago, Charlie sent me a message on the mighty internet book of faces, telling me that she had just seen the new ad for Quantum of Solace and that I wasn’t to dare to go to see it with anyone else. This, of course, is for historical reasons. In my third year I remember casino royale coming out; I wanted o see it very badly indeed and told chatrlie as much over dinner one night. I didn’t really expect her to do anything, but, Charlie is Charlie. She asked Tony shaw, another great friend of mine, to take us to see it. He happily obliged, but Tony, to this day, remains in my good books. The three of us went down to hanley, and saw the film together. So, three years later, it’s time to repest the process, only without Tony. I simply cannot wait, and I’ve been squealing about it all morning.

That, to me, is cinephilia. Friendship is what it’s all about. The conversation in cahiers was a conversation between friends – you can tell this from the text. Whether Charlie and I will now launch another new wave remains to be seen.

I definitely spoke too soon last night. Not long after I posted yesterdays entry, I hit the sack. Then I realised how much pain I was in, so much so that I had to get up again and ask rob to get me a pain killer. I slept well after that, but it was then I decided no more drinking for the sake of it.

I must confess I like alcohol. I like the taste of good real ale; of a nice wine; of rum and coke. But I must admit to drinking for the sake of it, and that’s what got me into this mess. Ironically, it wasn’t even good beer – drinks from brandies now have this nasty taste to them, which I guess comes from the plastic cups they’re served in, or perhaps the pipes. But it was last Wednesday’s overindulgence at the campus bar which meant I fell in the bathroom and got myself a cracked rib. Solution: no more purposeless drinking.

By purposeless drinking I mean drinking for drinking’s sake. I have had some very good drinks in my time, and certainly intend to have more. These include that martini I had in Sydney on new years eve 06-07; the margarita on moreton island; and most definitely the daiquiri I had in a Cuban restaurant in Paris. These drinks were special – dare I say it but there was a touch of class to them. Like drinking Guiness in Dublin, there was a purpose to them. They most certainly do not include about 6 pints of the shittiest larger ever in the student bar, so that has got to stop. Definitely.

For the time being I’m on pain killers, so I’m ‘on the wagon’ anyway, but even when I stop taking them, I won’t be drinking like I used to.

Not too sure anything’s broken. Things are much less painful than they were yesterday, although they still hurt quite a bit. I have painkillers just in case. Laughing is still a no-no.

Its been quite a good day, in all. Went to get money this morning, got some work done this afternoon (I realised today how sarcastic Truffaut was in hid writing) and then saw a brilliantly contemporary version of death of an anarchist down in stoke. What more can a guy ask for than cash, 50 year old French articles and some truly inspired polemics. Other than the ability to laugh painlessly again, that is.

There are, of course, far worse things in life than hurting ribs, such as sprouts or the spice girls. I was just in the wes feeling sorry for myself, sipping a cup of sweet tea. But they I thought ”hey, I’m going to see james bond on Thursday, then on Friday evening, Lyn is coming. Then I will. Then Lyn will again.” (I shouldn’t make myself laugh, it hurts.) talking of Lyn, she told me that she wore a zentai to a party on Saturday; my quest to enzentificate all my friends is going well. This fact cheers me up, as does the prospect of seeing her.

I haven’t done much in the way of work today, which is worrying. Mind you, you try concentrating on French magazines from the 50s with a painful rib. Oh well, tomorrow, things will be better; on Wednesday things will be better still; and on Thursday I go see bond.

Rib? What rib?

I think I’ve broken a rib, or bruised it at least. Last Wednesday I fell down in the bathroom, and the pains been getting worse. This morning, I had to get dad to take me to the doctors, there wasn’t much she could do, of course, other than prescribe pain killers. I’m going to bed now to make up for last nights lost sleep. It’s a pain in the ass.

In my own clumsy way I monitor internet memes. Meme theory interests me; it ties into my work on fandom (vaguely) and the writings of Henry Jenkins. One wonders what professor Jenkins would make of this – it seems to me to be a cross-pollination of two distinct memes to make something new. I find it bloody funny, although it is reliant on my lack of knowledge of German.

Not much happened today to me. Quite dull, really. A zoom round Crewe, didn’t find much. Thus I’ll simply send you to can video, which sums up the events of this monumental week very well indeed.

Yes we can.