In all seriousness, I think this country needs to take some kind of nonviolent collective action to sever the Conservative Party from power immediately. It is becoming clearer and clearer that this group of people is totally unfit to govern. They are now openly discussing withdrawing the UK from international human rights laws so that they can implement their savage, inhumane anti-immigration policies. People are coming here, looking for a better life, often fleeing intolerable violence and persecution; but instead of welcoming and supporting such people as any civilised country would, the Tories want to deport them to Rwanda in order to look tough and appeal to the deranged bigots who can’t stand anyone who they see as different coming to this country. On top of that, because such horrifying policies would violate international human rights law, the Tories now want to withdraw the UK from that law, effectively stripping us all of our rights and safeguards so that they can deport these refugees without fear that they might appeal.

Surely that is not who we are as a country or community; surely that is not where we, as a nation, have descended to. We are an open, tolerant society who should welcome people coming here looking for help, not savagely turning our backs on them. Above all, we should be the sort of civilised, educated society who holds things like civil rights and international law above all else. We know all too well that, without such safeguards we can effectively be run roughshod over. Yet now that we have been torn out of the European Union by a bunch of idiots who didn’t realise what they were voting for, the Tories think they have free reign to do as they wish with our rights. They think they can do what they want with all our hard-earned safeguards, treating minorities and immigrants like dirt and ignoring anyone whom they don’t see as ‘one of them’.

Unless we take action immediately we risk losing it all. It is now quite clear that the Tories don’t care whose rights they rip up, as long as they can enact their regressive, xenophobic policies. I realise this may sound rather extreme, undemocratic, or even mad, but we really need to do something to force this party from office immediately. As a group of people they are totally unfit to govern, caring only about themselves and those like them. They perceive the world in simplistic, anachronistic terms, far too limited and unenlightened for any modern, western democracy. Again, this is not who ‘we’ as a country are; the Tories do not represent us. Surely there must be some action we can take before theis bunch of charlatans goes too far and strips us all of our rights.

People often think of London as a grey, dull urban sprawl, but that is not what I have found over the last fourteen years. There is just as much beauty to be found in London as anywhere else.

This picture was taken by John from King John’s Walk, Eltham when we were out on a walk together this afternoon.

A couple of days ago John downloaded three or four films for me to watch over the next few days. To be honest I had never heard of any of them, but J seemed to think they were worth checking out. I just watched one, called M3gan, and I must admit it was an amusing couple of hours. On the face of it I think it was supposed to be a horror film about a robotic toy doll which comes to life and turns into an evil psychopath, but there were points at which I couldn’t help bursting into laughter. Not only is the entire premise of the film absurd, but watching this 1.5m tall doll marching around killing people in the most grotesque ways simply made me laugh out loud. I wouldn’t say I regret watching it, especially on a cold, grey afternoon, but it baffles me that such bollocks is being made.

Check out Mark Kermode’s slightly more detailed review here.

I think I’ve written here before about how passionately I support the BBC. One of the things I was considering writing about today was last night’s episode of Planet Earth Three. To have such magnificent, beautiful television programmes on our screens, presented by the incredible Sir David Attenborough – himself a national treasure – is something to be grateful for. Yet we only have such wonderful television, commercial free and accessible to all, because of how the beeb is funded. Thanks to the license fee, everyone contributes what they can to our national broadcaster, and we all have access to the finest world class news and entertainment. In many respects I think it’s as culturally valuable as the NHS, and both organisations deserve our support.

That’s why I was appalled to hear this morning that the Tories want to effectively cut the license fee. “An increase to the BBC licence fee by almost £15 would “absolutely” be too much, the culture secretary has said. Lucy Frazer said she was concerned a “significant rise” in the fee would add to cost of living pressures.” Of course, they’re justifying it with stuff about the cost of living, but we all know that the tories hate the BBC: they despise the notion of everyone getting equal access to a public service, irrespective of their ability to pay for it; they also clearly resent being held to account by that broadcaster, trying to dismiss it as too left wing whenever the beeb calls them out on their neoliberal schemes. The Tories will thus do whatever they can, however covertly, to weaken the BBC, ultimately wanting to destroy it altogether.

Of course, there’s no denying that the media landscape has changed dramatically in the last few years. We’ve seen a massive rise in online streaming services, both payed for and free, and with it has come a massive diversification of televisual media. For one, we have all started to consume film in shorter snippets. Corporations have naturally needed to respond to that change. Yet that does not mean that well established public broadcasters like the BBC don’t need funding or maintaining. In fact the more diverse and varied the mediascape gets, the more we need the BBC as a sort of backbone or base standard which we can all fall back on. At least we know we can trust the beeb, no matter how crazy the rest of the mediascape gets. To it’s great credit, the BBC’s Iplayer is one of the best streaming services on the web.

Yet services like the Iplayer are only possible if the BBC is funded properly through the license fee, otherwise it risks becoming just another source of derivative commercial dross. Without the license fee, the entire raisin d’etre of the beeb would shift from entertaining, educating and informing to making money and forcing products upon viewers. It would just become another ITV, and the wondrous natural history documentaries of David Attenborough would be replaced by the repulsive spectacle of failed politicians eating zark knows what in fake jungles. The Beeb thus needs defending against these Tory attempts to destroy it. It is only as valuable as it is because of how the BBC is funded, but unfortunately that funding paradigm goes against everything the Tories stand for.

This seems quite timely, given the current cold snap. 007 seems to like snow, doesn’t he?

Well, he certainly seems to be able to handle it much better than I can.

I must admit that I was a tad disappointed to hear, a week or two ago, that a massive new spherical arena will not be built in Stratford. Mayor Of London Sadiq Kahn apparently vetoed the idea of a MSG arena being created there, mostly because it would cause too much light pollution. I suppose I can see his point: they propose building it on a deserted, unused car park near the station. I pass it every time I go up there. It’s surrounded by railway tracks and buildings, and it’s hard to see anything being built there because it would be so difficult to access. Putting a colossal entertainment venue there would seem rather odd.

But then, part of me thinks it could be awesome. I just came across this video about the recently opened Sphere in Las Vegas, and I couldn’t help being blown away. There, it’s a massive glittering golf ball in the desert, visible across the city. It will no doubt be hosting era defining concerts and mega events for years. Wouldn’t having a similar venue here in London have been cool? Obviously, as I wrote here when I first heard about it, you can point out that East London already has a perfectly good event venue in the O2 at North Greenwich; and even if they build it, the new arena would be surrounded by buildings so it would be nowhere near as visible as the sphere in Vegas. The LED display on the outside of the globe just wouldn’t have the same impact.

Even so, I still think it could be incredible. This second dome may well complement the first one, four stops down the Jubilee line. Surely rejecting this idea would mean London missing out on something awesome. Any reservations aside, at the end of the day leaving that space as it is, a disused car park which nobody can get to, would just be a total waste; and simply using it for yet more housing strikes me as extremely boring and uninspired. At the moment, the decision over whether it will go ahead lies with Michael Gove, so even though Kahn vetoed it the idea isn’t quite dead. Stratford is currently one of the most vibrant areas of the metropolis, and such a new entertainment venue may be the cherry on the cake.

You can probably tell that I watch a lot of Youtube videos. In these autumn and winter months, I feel less like going out in my powerchair and I’m more likely to stay at home browsing the web for hours on end. You have probably noticed too that, these days, we’re seeing more and more vlogging on youtube, where users talk directly to the audience to express their thoughts and feelings on various topics. Of course, for the most part, I have nothing against this: it’s a perfectly good means of communication. The thing is, these videos often begin with their creators noting how many subscribers or viewers they have. Such figures are usually quite high, going up into the thousands, tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands, and get higher each week.

I can’t help feeling slightly disheartened by this: I’ve been keeping a blog for over twenty years and have made an effort to update it as regularly as I can. However, even after so long I only have around 85 subscribers and I’m lucky to get a hundred views a week. That’s obviously nowhere near what these p’tahks on Youtube get, even though I have been blogging far longer than any of them. Of course, I know Youtube is one of the biggest sites on the internet, whereas I just yammer on in an obscure corner of it, but it nonetheless feels rather deflating to realise that I get so little traffic compared to my contemporaries in the vlogsphere. On the other hand, that isn’t why I blog: I don’t post here so regularly just to see how many hits I get. I think it’s important that I convey to the world what life is like for a disabled man living independently in East London; no hitcount would change that. Of course, I can’t deny there is an element of egoism in what I do: I like to know that people are reading what I write and paying attention to what I think. That’s probably why I feel so deflated about this. Either way I’ll just keep waffling away on here just as I have for the last two decades, and ignore how many people are reading.

It has been a while since I posted an entry about American politics, but if anyone wants a laugh at just how misguided and deluded Trump supporters are there, this is worth checking out. Watching it, it’s hard to know whether you should burst out laughing or be mortally petrified. It’s a series of short interviews with members of the public; judging by their accents, they’re from one of the southern, rural states. Some of the things they say really takes the biscuit: Trump won the election; Biden is an actor; only Trump can save America. What I find frightening is that it is a demonstration of how deluded and misguided people can be when it comes to politics. They seem to deceive even themselves, warping their perceptions so much that they attack any and all evidence which might suggest they’re wrong. To them, Trump is something akin to a messiah, and the legal cases he’s currently going through are all a big conspiracy by the political elite in Washington to bring him down. When you remember that these people are citizens of the most advanced, powerful nation on earth, the fact that they can be so deluded is rather troubling.

Just to carry on the Star Trek theme from earlier, if anyone is interested in just how articulate, engaged and involved fan reaction to Star Trek is becoming, I certainly think this is worth a watch. I’ve been watching Steve Shives’ videos for a while now. In this one, he begins to explore one of Trek’s central precepts that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one. As Shives points out, it is a recurring theme throughout Star Trek, and it can get very philosophical about it: is it wiser to save one person if it endangers many more, or vice versa? Is one life worth saving over others, and what factors might influence such a decision. I think the way Shives explores this topic is commendable as well as creative, touching on ideas such as ‘the trolley problem’: say an unstoppable railway carriage is heading down a track. Ahead of it there is a fork. On one branch of the track, towards which the carriage is heading, lies one person; but on the other branch lies five. You control the lever which controls the fork, so where should you direct the carriage? It’s the sort of dilemma which involved fictions often confront an audience with, so to see it being engaged with in this way, to the depth which Shives does, really is interesting.

If you ask me, this version sounds a lot better.

There’s something strange going on when it comes to Woolwich; it’s cultural identity seems to be completely split. Two or three times recently, when I’ve mentioned that I was heading to Woolwich to a few of the locals (Ie, native Londoners who have lived in the Borough of Greenwich for their entire lives) they have warned me to be careful, as if I was going somewhere dodgy or dangerous. The thing is, that’s not the impression I get from that area at all. I think I’ve mentioned here a few times recently how much gentrification Woolwich is receiving: it has a colossal Tesco, brand new library and council building, and it’s theatre, the Tramshed, is currently being expanded and is going to be huge. On top of that, it has an Elisabeth Line station, linking it to central London within minutes.

While I mentioned here a few weeks ago that Woolwich had quite a proletarian, working class feel to it, especially when contrasted with ultra-gentrified areas of Central London, the truth is I don’t think it still deserves the rough reputation that it once had. I just got back from there having gone to try to sort out some business at the council, and found a thriving, increasingly wealthy area, surrounded by building sites and bustling with activity: it didn’t seem threatening at all. Indeed, as I touched upon here, East London in general seems to be shedding the not-so-flattering reputation it once had. On the other hand and at the same time, there still seemed to be a working class element to it: in the market, stall holders call out what they are selling in thick, South London accents while traffic whizzes about and the sound of pneumatic drills fills the air. Thus, culturally, there is still a kind of rough and ready undercurrent to be found in Woolwich which you might not experience in other areas of the metropolis.

I must admit this really interests me. The result is a kind of weird geographic schizophrenia, where the area has two personalities at once. As a suburb of one of the world’s greatest, richest cities, Woolwich is in a constant state of development with huge sums of money being invested in it. It’s town centre with it’s public square and huge screen is far more lavish than anything I remember in any northern town. At the same time it seems to have kept quite a proletarian, rough and ready culture, possibly a remnant of it’s history as an artillery manufacturing hub. Woolwich seems unable to shake it’s former culture and reputation off, even though it’s just as gentrified as any other part of London; it’s as if people there don’t want to let go of their working class roots, while the city around them gets richer and richer.

I like to think of myself as an up-to-date, techie sort of guy. I like to keep track of the latest inventions and technological trends. After all, I started blogging when blogging was in it’s infancy, and I’m reliant on technology to communicate and move around. Lyn was broadly the same. The thing is, there is a recent innovation that I’m not on track with at all: I have never used a QR code. Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure what they do. Of course, I’ve seen them about: they are all over the place these days, and seem to be becoming more and more ubiquitous. I know you have to scan them to access some kind of information or website, but because I can’t physically use the camera on my Ipad – ie I can’t hold it up to scan the code – I’ve never been able to use one. Nobody has shown me what they do, so I’m not even sure what kind of info they supposedly access: they just look like odd black and white square patterns. QR codes thus remain something of a mystery to me; one which seems to be cropping up all over the place, but which is totally useless to me. New technology can often be exciting, fascinating stuff, provided you are able to access it. It strikes me as odd that something now so widely used is as useful to me as a chocolate teapot.

I felt compelled to make this after an incident on a bus coming back from Woolwich earlier.

It gives me inordinate pleasure to announce that earlier today I received the great news that my sister in law Yan has had a baby. I don’t have much detail yet, but both mother and baby are apparently doing well. This is fantastic news which fills me with a joy unlike any other. To be honest the notion of my little brother Luke becoming a dad is a bit strange, although I know he is going to make a superb father. As for now though, my main concern is how I’m going to get to meet Luke, Yan and the newest member of our family.

I know how important it is to be polite. Particularly in a great world city like London, I know that we should all treat our fellow citizens with curtesy and respect. However, if I’m sitting at a bunch of other people at a pedestrian crossing and the lady beside me feels she needs to tell me that the light has changed to green with the most patronising, nauseating “Look, it’s green now. We can cross.” Then I reserve the right to reply with the words “Yes, I can see that you stupid bitch.” Not very polite I admit, but absolutely essential in the circumstances.

The problem is, cake.

I’m currently sat in Costa coffee shop, Eltham. I come here once a week for breakfast. As things stand, Serkan has Wednesday mornings off, which means I have to get myself dressed and breakfasted. It isn’t that bad: putting my shoes and socks on takes a bit of effort, but after that I can get in my chair and come up here. On clear days like this morning, I take the long route along Middle Park Avenue and King Johns Walk, with its stunning views across London.

The staff here now know me quite well: they know I like a large cappuccino with a cheese and ham toastie.  They help me get my straw out of my bumbag and put sugar in my coffee. I can then get on with quietly eating breakfast, shoving the hot toastie into my mouth by hand and slurping the cappuccino.

However, sat where I am, where I usually sit, I can see a fine array of cakes on the counter. They look very tempting. The problem is they wouldn’t be eatable by hand. I can’t use spoons or cutlery, so I need someone to feed me something like a piece of cake. As kind as they have been to me, I don’t think I can ask a member of the costa staff to feed me. Trying to feed myself a piece, as delicious as it looks, would just end in a chocolatey carnage; most would probably just end up on the floor. Alas, it would seem that there are still limits to my independence, but at the end of the day (or rather, the beginning) it’s great just to sit here like any other, ordinary Londoner.

Just for the record, I have never watched I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here, and have no intention whatsoever of ever doing so. I think I’ve articulated my objections to reality TV here before, albeit a while ago, but any program which would platform failed politicians who knowingly deceived the country into voting for something manifestly against it’s best interests, isn’t worth watching. Like any art form, television is capable of showing us wonderful things, bringing the world into our living rooms: I love watching Sir David Attenborough’s natural history documentaries, or the travelogues of Sir Michael Palin. I love programs like Red Dwarf, Star Trek, as well as classics like Yes Minister and Monty Python. To see TV used for this shit, in which so-called celebrities are flown across the world to some Australian rain forrest, to be filmed eating zark-knows-what for our entertainment, seems an utter, utter waste. I see it as nothing more than is an insult to our collective intelligence.

The fact that certain charlatans now seem to be trying to use it to boost their profiles only adds to my distain. No doubt he’ll attempt to use the show as a way to address the public, justify himself and boost his public image and reputation. Any television channel which would allow itself to be used like that isn’t worth wasting our time viewing. Thus not only will I not be watching the program, I’ll be boycotting ITV entirely, and would ask anyone reading this to do the same.

There was an item on breakfast TV a few minutes ago about how lots of families are now trying to sue big technology and social media companies like Facebook for being ‘harmful’ and subjecting them to too many negative images etc. This isn’t my area of expertise of course, but as someone who has been using the web now for most of my life, I feel compelled to say something. The internet is a wonderful tool, but like any tool it is up to us what we use it for: We choose what we look for, read and watch on the web, just as we choose which books to read or which films to watch. Thus for these people to try to blame social media companies for exposing them to harmful content is utterly absurd. I have never come across anything as dark as they are describing, or anything encouraging me to commit suicide, despite the fact that I use the web, including sites like Facebook and Youtube, for hours each day.

I must add too that it irritates me how several of these people are attempting to blame social media for the fact they attempted to kill their selves. They seem to think these websites deliberately infected them with some kind of psychological virus or disease, from which they could not escape. Again this strikes me as absurd. The fact these melodramatic, attention-seeking kids may have made half-assed attempts to top themselves is not the responsibility of any social media website. Such sites are used by billions of people each day, uploading terabytes of information – how could any company control such a forum?

I must admit these people suing these companies irk me. They seem very eager to play the victim and blame others for how they have chosen to act. Life is extremely precious, and to try to end it is a stupid decision to make; but it is a decision which can’t be blamed on anyone else once someone realise how stupid they were to make it. At the end of the day, people intent on killing theirselves do so, and it’s an utter waste. Yet I strongly suspect those who ‘attempt’ suicide but fail merely do so to get attention and pity. Many then try to blame others for their stupidity, as is the case here. I seriously doubt they actually feel the kind of despair they claim, but are just caught up in the fashion for self-pitying, ‘goth’ teenagers who think the world, which somehow revolves around them, is about to end. Having grown up alongside kids who had to overcome horrific physical challenges yet who never complained about their situations, to see these perfectly fine, able-bodied young people claim such victimhood, simply for being exposed to websites they chose to go to, is perverse.

The bigger problem, however, is the implications these court cases might have for social media companies, if they succeed. Part of what makes the internet so great is that you can find absolutely anything on it: here on my blog, on Facebook or Youtube, I can post whatever I want. Some of it might come under criticism from my fellow internet users, but that’s natural in any public forum. The moment sites like Facebook start to have to regulate what is posted onto it, things change: it would become far less free and open; we would all have to be extra cautious about what we post on it. I might even have to watch what I say here. The liberal, tolerant exchange of ideas on the web will be lost, simply because some lachrymose, melodramatic kids want to blame big tech firms for the things they chose to look at.

Next on my ‘to watch’ list, and probably the reason I’ll next go to the cinema, is to watch Napoleon. I could have gone today, but to be honest I’m eager to go with John: cinema is always better with mates. Ridley Scott is one of the great contemporary directors. I really enjoy his work, and want to see what he has to say about such a great historic figure. I hear the film has displeased a lot of french people – they don’t seem to like ‘outsiders’ telling what they consider ‘their’ history. I want to see how Scott handles the Napoleonic era: going by what he did with Gladiator, it’s bound to be very interesting. Mind you, as far as I’m concerned, any film about the Napoleonic wars needs to have Sean Bean as Sharpe in it.

I just have a quick question to post here this evening. It’s slightly quirky, but it was on my mind as I trundled around East London this afternoon. Are DLR stations included in the game Mornington Crescent?

I just got back from a nice long trundle around Canary Wharf. It was nothing too unusual. However, I noticed two things that I think I ought to note. First of all, going through the mall, I came across a small Greek restaurant called Smashing Plates. That must surely be the wittiest name for a restaurant ever. It made me chuckle out loud when I saw it.

Secondly, I was even more astonished to find a wine shop selling alcohol free Leffe. My jaw dropped when I saw it. The whole point of Leffe is that it is strong, rich and potent: an alcohol free version is like crisps without salt, cannabis without THC or the Tories without greed, entitlement and arrogance.

On the local London news a few minutes ago, there was a short item about four religious leaders “coming together in solidarity” to show their resistance to the trouble in the Middle East. Of course, it was supposed to be a show of unity, about people coming together in spite of their faith. Yet I feel compelled to come back to my blog to point out the perverse, even sickening irony of such ‘gestures’. It is faith/religion which caused the horrific conflict we’re currently witnessing in the first place. Religion divides humanity; it splits us into one group or another, depending on which set of myths people are convinced to believe. These groups are lead by people who insist we believe such stories without question, using them as sources of baseless authority so that they can tell us what to think and how to act. If nobody believed such stories, if nobody listened to such preachers, the groups and the divisions between them would not exist.

Thus for these religious leaders – an imam, priest and rabbi – to come on the evening news and try to preach to us about unity is not only ironic but profoundly hypocritical: such people maintain our divisions; they need such splits in humanity in order to keep controlling us. Moreover, by arguing that faith offers any form of solution to the current conflict, they are using, even usurping, it to reinforce their authority as religious leaders, something I find utterly cynical, even perverse. They said they wanted peace, but rather than offering any solution, they are the very problem.

You might have noticed that I have posted quite a few “What I did yesterday” entries. Alongside commenting on film, politics and various other subjects, I think it’s important for me to use my blog to give an account of my life as a disabled man. I was wondering recently though, what would be the best term for such entries?  Simply calling them “Diary entries” or “Diary-type entries” seems rather dull and obvious. I came up with two alternatives: I think I can either call them diatribes, due to the way they often ramble on and on without getting anywhere; or I can call them diuretics, due to how they often just seem to flow.

(Well, it made me laugh, at least…)

John and I went to watch Anatomy Of A Fall at The Barbican yesterday afternoon. A highly ambiguous, perplexing courtroom drama, it was the most interesting film I have seen in a long, long time. For starters, I have never seen a film switch so effortlessly, seamlessly and regularly between languages. It was done so well that for once I didn’t have trouble keeping up with the subtitles. However, at this point, I think the best thing I can do is to direct everyone here, to Mark Kermode’s review of it. I had thought I would write a fulsome review here today, but when it comes down to it, I honestly don’t think a mere blog entry would even come close to doing it justice. Where would I even begin? I realise that that will sound like quite a cop-out, but films as complex as this deserve to be engaged with properly: it would require an entire thesis at least to start to explore such a nuanced, thought-provoking film.

I certainly intend to come back to Anatomy Of A Fall, possibly after several more viewings, but for now the best thing I can do is to suggest everyone goes and watches it. If it isn’t the film of the year, I would be staggered. It is film at it’s most intriguing and nuanced.

Mind you, for what it’s worth, I reckon the pretentious twat topped himself.

Yesterday turned out to be far more interesting than I expected it to be, or rather, more interesting than my Sundays usually are. After the sound and fury of Saturday, I thought I would just go up to Stratford for a nice, quiet walk around the Olympic Park. As I got off the tube train though, I noticed a lot of West Ham supporters heading that way too: there was obviously a match on at the London Stadium. To begin with, I just continued with my plan, following the growing crowd heading for the park. As I got closer to the stadium though, I had an idea: how cool would  it be to watch a football match at London Stadium? I hadn’t actually been inside the stadium since 2012, and to be honest I was curious to see how it was doing. It would be even more awesome to watch an event there.

With that in mind, I asked one of the attendants how I could get a ticket. They took me to the ticket office, but there things grew a little complex. I was told that disabled fans could only get tickets if they booked them online in advance. I replied that that was a bit discriminatory, as able bodied people could obviously just walk up and get tickets on match day. The growing number of attendants around me agreed, and told me that they would see what they could do.

Long story short, about twenty minutes later I was being shown into the stadium and up to the wheelchair viewing area. The biggest surprise, however, had been the price: seventy quid! I was only told what it would cost after it was decided I could get a ticket, but by then having caused such an issue, it would have been utterly ungrateful for me to roll away. That’s how, yesterday afternoon, I came to be watching West Ham vs. Nottingham Forrest at London Stadium.

We all know how so much infrastructure built for events like the Olympics by various cities around the world has later been allowed to fall out of use and rot. It’s one of the biggest problems with such mega-events. I’m very glad to say, however, that that hasn’t been an issue in London. Not just the stadium, but all the other venues built for 2012 are still in regular use. As I went into the stadium yesterday, though, I was filled with awe and joy: thousands of people packed the seats, shouting and singing. The noise was incredible. London has surely lead the way in using it’s olympic infrastructure.

The match itself was a lot of fun. As I explained once, I am a de facto West Ham supporter, despite knowing virtually nothing about the club. It was a close thing, and the referee made some very dubious decisions, but West Ham eventually won 3-2. After that, I was left to make my way home having had such an incredible afternoon. Whether I’ll go again remains to be seen due to the price, but it was great to see the stadium in such fine form.

I better start this entry by saying that I haven’t been hospitalised or arrested, and that I’m perfectly fine at home. Yesterday was, however, quite an interesting day to say the least. You know me: the temptation to go up and see what was happening in Westminster was just too much, so slightly after noon I thought I would get the Jubilee Line into Central London. When I got to North Greenwich though, I found the Line closed for maintenance. That didn’t matter though, because I could simply hop onto the cable car and get the Elisabeth Line from Custom House.

That meant that I had to go to Bond Street instead of Westminster, and walk from there. It was a pleasant trundle, but London was teaming with people yesterday afternoon. When I eventually got to Parliament Square, however, I was about two hours too late for the main pro-Palestinian march. I found the place riddled with right-wing thugs shouting all kinds of reactionary nationalist crap. You could almost smell their stupidity in the air. I’m sorry to say the sight wound me up: London is a diverse, open, tolerant metropolis – such barely literate neanderthals have no place here.

The rest of my afternoon was spent in Parliament Square, trying to talk sense into the scum. My initial intention had been to press on to join the anti-war march, but I got so worked up by the shouts of the barbarous, intolerant disgraces to human civilisation that I chose to remain there. At about six I decided to head to Westminster Station in order to get home, only to find it shut. That meant I had to head all the way back to Bond Street. I got home about eight, rather tired and hungry, still furious at what I’d seen earlier. I love London for it’s vibrancy and openness. To see it riddled with racist morons whose only sense of identity stems from a flag was utterly sickening.

Just to follow up the entry I posted an hour or so ago, I think I better make something absolutely clear: I am extremely grateful to those who helped me out of the muddle I found myself in over the last two days, and who helped me get back online. A lot of people put in a lot of work, not least my Parents, as well as Gary the BT technician who brought me a router all the way from Thamesmead. I wrote my entry earlier to try to explain how important access to the web is to me. Now that I’m back online it feels like such a relief: the hideous prospect of a weekend isolated from almost all my family and friends has been lifted. More importantly though, it is truly humbling to hear that so many people are willing to do so much for me.

You wouldn’t think not having an internet connection at home would be that big a deal, would you? For most people these days, the ‘net is a very useful tool, but it’s hardly the be-all and end all of existence. After all, for your average able-bodied person, there are other ways of keeping in contact with your friends and family, checking the news, and of watching television and staying entertained. Most people can use phones, read newspapers or just pop on the telly. For me, though, with the way I currently have things set up in my flat, things are different: I use my computer and internet connection for everything, from chatting to my friends to relaxing in the evening to getting berated by my parents. I chose not to set up a TV in my new flat because I found it simpler just to watch the box via websites like Iplayer, 4OD and netflix.

The last 48 hours or so have really put just how much I need an internet connection into perspective. It’s difficult to explain how powerless I have felt: whenever I have needed to check my emails or messages, or send a message to anyone, I’ve had to go through the complex process of leaving my flat to find a Wifi network I can access with my ipad. I haven’t been able to access Facebook, Youtube, or do any of the things I fill my online life with. It has been oddly depressing and alienating, like an addict forced to come off some potent drug, or as if all contact with the outside world has become a hundred times harder. Even worse was not knowing when someone would be able to come to repair it; being afraid to venture out on my usual rolls in case someone turned up and I was not here.

Yet I must keep reminding myself that there are far worse predicaments to be in than not having access to the internet. I have a warm flat, full stomach and loaded fridge. All problems eventually get put right, sooner or later. I cannot moan. As you can see, the technicians came and got me back online eventually. Reading them back, the above two paragraphs seem a bit silly. Even so, the last couple of days have really made it clear what a big part of my life the internet now is, both as a disabled man and more generally.

It has been a long, hard day to be honest. Without wanting to go into too much detail or apportion too much blame, my flat has been offline since yesterday afternoon. I use the internet for just about everything, including watching tv,  so I have been rather stuck. To cheer myself up and pass a bit of time, I just rewatched the documentary about the Paraorchestra,  which I had stored on my hand drive. I can’t believe it has been eleven years since it was made. However, the biggest shock of all, which I simply had to note here,  came when I noticed that I am wearing exactly the same jumper and trousers today  that I was wearing when I appeared in the documentary with Lyn all that time ago.

I must say I love this image. I don’t know where it is, who did it, or over what sort of timeline this happened, but it is a great reminder that multiculturalism and diversity will always win out against nationalism and intolerance.

Mind you, they forgot that some of us also speak Klingon.

Qa’pla!

One of the right-wing tabloid rags, which I won’t name let alone link to, is apparently reporting that Michael Palin has said that a lot of what was created in Monty Python would not be tolerated today. The rag complains that characters like Gumby could not be tolerated today due to cancel culture, and seems to claim that Palin agrees with them. I find that very ironic, I must say. Of course, social attitudes have come a long way since Monty Python’s Flying Circus first aired, and things like overt discrimination and the stereotyping of minorities are frowned on a lot more. However, surely that is to be welcomed because it shows that society is becoming much more tolerant and understanding of previously unrepresented and mocked people. Perhaps a character like Mr. Gumby, a stereotype of a person with learning difficulties if ever there was one, would indeed be frowned upon today, but that is because we have much more understanding of learning difficulties, and know they are nothing to be laughed at.

What I find perverse, though, is the way the tabloid rag in question tried to use this story to feed it’s right-wing agenda: to them, this was yet another example of contemporary ‘woke’ cancel culture trying to prevent people from laughing. The irony is, such right-wing idiocy was the very thing Python set out to mock in the first place. The political right seems to want to claim classic comedy like Python as it’s own, moaning that it wouldn’t be permitted any more, when in fact it was inherently progressive and leftist: Python was all about making fun of things like class, tradition and religion, things which the rag in question vehemently defends. Thus the political right is trying to usurp Python, claiming it for itself, twisting it so that it seems to fit their reactionary, intolerant agenda, but that is completely misrepresenting what Python was all about.

While it is true that some of what we saw in python is a little dated and might rightly be frowned upon if it was produced these days, that does not mean it was in any way right wing. It should not be hijacked by the very people Monty Python took the piss out of, to boost their reactionary agenda.

If I’m completely honest, I’m not entirely sure what I think about this. “The home secretary is proposing new laws to restrict the use of tents by homeless people, arguing that many of them see it as a ‘lifestyle choice’.” On the face of it, of course that is an abhorrent, sickening thing to think: nobody chooses to live on the streets, and the evil Tory bitch Braverman obviously just wants to stop people living in tents to make the UK look more prosperous than it is. Homelessness is a clear sign of government failure, which is why the Tories want to hide it.

At the same time, the fact remains that the country has quite a robust welfare system. It’s far from perfect, but it functions. Anyone in need of a home will get one, so in a way you could argue that people – at least some people – do indeed choose to be homeless. Of course I know it’s far more complicated than that, and varies from situation to situation. I’m in no way trying to excuse Braverman, let alone side with her; there are many ways in which destitution cannot be avoided. Yet you can indeed argue that, in choosing not to go through the system others do in order to get housed, sometimes homelessness becomes a choice. I know from my own experiences how much support is available from the state/social services, so it seems odd to me that some people still live on the streets, if not by choice.

Bletchley Park was in the news this week.

I have to say, I find what was achieved there truly, truly remarkable.

To tell the truth, the problem I found at Green Park yesterday was kind of bugging me, so today I thought I would pop back up there and see whether the station is in fact accessible. I got a bus to North Greenwich and hopped on the Jubilee Line, after consulting the staff . In the end it wasn’t a problem: I simply needed to sit in the right train carriage.

Once up in central London though, I decided to have a look around. Green Park itself looked very pretty in the autumn, but what struck me the most was how expensive and gentrified that area is. I seldom head that way, but the amount of posh, expensive shops made my jaw drop. Bentleys probably worth millions were parked in the streets; doormen in top hats stood at the entrances shops like fortnum and Mason. You could almost smell the combination of wealth and entitlement in the air.

Following my nose as I usually do, I checked out the arcades of Mayfair before heading to Oxford street and then Bond Street station. It was very busy and crowded, but fortunately today the rain held off. Needless to say I didn’t buy anything, but was happy just to take in some of central London.

Before long I reached Bond Street and got the Elizabeth Line back to Woolwich. The train was crowded but fast, and I was back on familiar ground within minutes. However, I think the swiftness of the journey kind of made the contrast between the two regions of London more striking than ever. Woolwich market on a Saturday afternoon is very rough and ready: working class and noisy, stall holders shout out what they are selling while Caribbean music blasts from loudspeakers. I could barely make it across General Gordon Square, winding between the stalls and various funfair attractions.

Geographically of course, I had only travelled a few kilometres, but the difference in the culture and atmosphere between the two areas was so stark that it was difficult to believe that I was still in the same city. London at its most bourgeois had become London at perhaps its most proletarian. The change was too striking for me not to notice, and could even be heard in people’s accents. High speed transport projects like The Elisabeth Line may effectively shrink the city, but in doing so they make the contrasts between North, South, East and West more obvious and pronounced. Yet that is part of why I love this metropolis: it’s like the world in one spot, infinitely varied and full of diversity. A twenty minute train ride can take you to another planet. A city so full of life that you can’t help being sucked into it; so fascinating that you never want to leave.

I now think I know east London pretty well, having been living here for almost twelve years. I i trundle around areas like Greenwich, Canary Wharf and Stratford fairly regularly. Yet it occurred to me recently that I know virtually nothing of the west of the metropolis. North of the Thames and beyond, say, Baker Street is almost a total blank on my mental map.

Today, then, I decided to start to put that right. My initial plan upon setting out had been to just pop up to the Olympic park again; but at the last minute I decided to head west instead of east – it was time for some exploration. At first I thought I would get off the tube at green park and take the bus from there, but rather foolishly forgot that it was only wheelchair accessible if you ride in certain coaches. I then realised that I was stuck on the train until we got to Wembley.

I must admit that I was rather annoyed by this at first. I still think that, before it starts any more big projects, TFL should concentrate on making all its tube stations accessible. It seems highly unfair that Londoners like myself can only use certain stations, far fewer than other people, and that we have to be extra careful about where we can and cannot go.

Once at Wembley, though, I put my grumble aside and set about looking around. It is another absurdity gentrified area of London, crammed with shining new buildings. I don’t think I had ever been up there before, but it was quite spectacular. I could tell that it had been redeveloped quite recently, and parts were still being worked on. The half baked idea I’d had of getting a bus from there and dropping in on my parents quickly faded as I soon became rather lost exploring the streets in between trying to dodge the showers.

I didn’t stay in Wembley very long. It was getting wetter and wetter, so much so that returning home became something of a priority. Needless to say I’ll probably head that way again soon, weather permitting. It still staggers me how much money is being ploughed into areas like that. Wembley is quite a historic area, of course synonymous with football; yet today it shines like New York, Los Angeles, or any other newly established centre of capitalism. It makes me wonder once again: are any other parts of the country receiving this breathtaking investment, or is London being singled out for special treatment?

Having said that, I still wish this metropolis would spend some of the money it obviously has on updating the remainder of its tube stations.

The classic comedy series Yes, Minister is currently being repeated on BBC4. It is, of course, a timeless political satire, as stinging and acerbic today as it was when it first aired forty years ago. Watching an episode the other night, though, I was struck by a fairly interesting question: could you remake or reboot Yes Minister? What would it look like if it was set in this chaotic contemporary era? I doubt the relationship between ministers and the civil service will have changed that much, so that aspect of the program will still be pretty pertinent. Yet what might such a remake tell us about British politics as it currently stands? I don’t know the answer to that of course, but surely it would be intriguing to find out.

I think it was yesterday or the day before that Sadiq Kahn made a speech about how religion is an aspect of human diversity to be respected and cherished like any other, and about how we must all live beside people who might hold different beliefs to us. To be honest, when I heard his speech, I was torn in two, both agreeing and vehemently disagreeing with it at the same time. On the one hand, of course I think any aspect of human diversity has to be cherished: social and cultural differences are what make humanity so great and so fascinating. We must accept other people’s beliefs, no matter what they may be or how bizarre we may find them, lest we risk repeating the most hideous mistakes of history.

On the other hand and at the same time, there’s no escaping the fact that religion – all religion – is an inherently oppressive form of social control. I have written on here several times how I think religion boils down to using a set of outdated, baseless myths to tell others what to think and how to behave; it should therefore be opposed or spoken against. In the case of Christianity, priests, preachers or whatever invoke the authority of an all-powerful, all-seeing creator-being, as well as stories about a social leader living in Palestine around 2000 years ago, to tell others how to live their lives. They often use such authority to justify things now rightly rejected in mainstream society, such as homophobia, transphobia and racism.

The authority of such preachers demands absolute, unquestioning belief in such myths. Religion is therefore inherently oppressive because it cannot allow followers to question or look beyond what they are told, which is why I think it is essential that humanity outgrows it. You only have to look at what is going on in Israel to see the problems and divisions religion causes. Surely it has held humanity back for too long and needs to be spoken out against.

That’s why I call religion out as the baseless, anachronistic bullshit it is whenever I can. Yet I cannot deny that causes a contradiction: the need to respect the diversity of human belief versus my desire to get people free from this kind of social control. To be honest I can’t see a way out of this paradox. Of course one must oppose all religions with equal vigour, but that still leaves you open to accusations of persecution, bigotry and intolerance, the likes of which you have always fought against.

I know I can get quite worked up about politics sometimes, but I write the following with total conviction and seriousness: Suella Braverman is unfit for office and needs to be forced to resign immediately. The media is rightly focussing on events in Israel and Gaza, but it’s frankly staggering that more isn’t being said about Braverman’s abhorrent, authoritarian comments about the right to protest. She branded everyone protesting in support of Palestine as criminals and antisemites, calling the recent rallies in several UK cities ”hate marches”. Femi explains things a lot better here, but as a country we should not have such vile, ignorant, arrogant people, who refuse to see a situation from any other perspective than their own, anywhere near our government.

I was on a bus heading to Woolwich earlier when a group of teenagers also got on. I would guess they were fifteen or sixteen, and were all wearing student lanyards. Of course they started chatting to one another, but I was struck by how bold and brash they sounded: they spoke as if they knew everything, and were fully grown, worldly-wise, mature adults. I was then highly amused by the thought that they would only have been five or six – barely more than infants – when London hosted the Olympics, or when Monty Python performed their last shows. I was then even more amused to think that, in all likelihood, I could show them the blog entry I wrote the day each of them were born. Perhaps they wouldn’t sound so headstrong and cocky then!

And then I suddenly began to feel very, very old.