I really must say that I’m having a far more cheerful, less acrimonious day than yesterday. I just got in from my daily trundle, through the park and down into Greenwich. The thing is, now that the days are shorter, I’m not going to be able to go out on my longer rolls any more. On the other hand, that also means that I’m much more likely to go to the cinema, and I think this will be the film I go to see next. I’m not usually a big horror fan, but from Mark Kermode’s review, Sketch sounds intriguing: given that it apparently involves drawings somehow coming to life, I would say it sounds fairly Lacanian, but the fact that it has been described as “a cross between Jurassic Park and Inside Out” really sold it to me. Expect my review/reaction here soon.

The breakfast news this morning was topped by the story that the so-called king has gone to meet the so-called pope. Surely I can’t be the only person to find that utterly, utterly absurd: the fact that the head of one anachronistic institution has gone to meet the head of another is not news. When all is said and done, both monarchy and religion should have no place in modern society. Both are forms of authority based on a set of antiquated myths; they both demand we believe in an absurd creator-being which can’t possibly exist, in order that a very limited set of privileged people can continue to be revered and treated as special and above the law by the rest of society.

I have written about what I think about both the monarchy and religion here before. If we really are as enlightened as we want to be, if we really want everyone to be equal, surely we should have outgrown both anachronisms long ago. Yet here we are, watching the activities of both being reported on the news, as though it was two heads of state meeting, rather than simply the meeting of two men who both hope society doesn’t wise up to their charade.

I was in my building society earlier, where I caught sight of Prime Minister’s Questions on the TV there. I stopped watching PMQs ages ago because I was getting too wound up. Looking at Kemi Badenoch on the screen, it struck me that, for all her insults, taunts and baseless accusations, she doesn’t even realise that she’s nothing but the puppet of a group of rich white men responsible for the mess that the country is now in. I know that holding the government to account is the opposition’s job, but if the Tories had a modicum of humility or integrity, they would be begging for our collective forgiveness, not mouthing their heads off, making out it’s all Labour’s fault. The fact that the Tories refuse to accept their culpability for the country’s diminishment and isolation is bad enough; but the fact that they are currently using a black woman as their figurehead, in some perverse effort to appear open, inclusive and tolerant when they are still the collection of hyper-privileged white bigots who think power is their birthright which they always have been, is what makes it even more sickening.

The Trekkie in me is simply demanding that I direct everybody here today, to quite a fascinating Youtube video discussing thirteen easily missed details about Star Trek The Next Generation. As the video says, TNG belonged to something of a golden age of TV sci fi which we seem to have now sadly grown out of: It held a mirror up to contemporary society, creating a seemingly utopian future which was not quite as wondrous as it first appeared. This video reflects on that, illustrating thirteen fairly dark details we otherwise would probably have ignored. The Ferengi, for example, weren’t just cartoonish villains, but a quite biting commentary on contemporary capitalism. Online analysis like this is increasingly pointing such things out, becoming more and more observant, which is why I definitely think it’s worth watching. Alas, it is only in retrospect that we can realise how incredible such programmes were, as well as what they told us about. ourselves.

I haven’t been very political recently, but this must be the most reassuring graph I’ve come across in a long, long time.

Surely this is a clear indication that the country is waking up to the reality of Brexit. It is becoming clearer and clearer what an epic mistake leaving the European Union was, and the sooner we re-take our position among our neighbours, the better.

I would just like to direct everyone’s attention to this incredible bit of news today. Sir David Attenborough has become the oldest person to ever win a Daytime Emmy for his Netflix film, Secret Life of Orang-utans. “The 99-year-old came out top in the outstanding daytime personality, non-daily category, with the Netflix film – which follows a group of apes living in the jungles of Sumatra, Indonesia – also coming away with two other awards.” Needless to say, I find that draw dropping. I’ve written about my admiration for Sir David on here before, yet the fact that not only is he still making television programmes after seventy years, but those programmes are still coming head and shoulders above anything else being made, is absolutely jaw-dropping. He surely is a national treasure if ever we had one.

I just have one question on my mind today. I think it is fairly pressing:

Have I fallen into the nasty habit of just blogging for the sake of it?

I think I’ve said here before how much I like London public transport: as a wheelchair/powerchair user, I really appreciate the fact that I can easily get on and off busses and increasingly the tube, and pretty much go where I like. In a while I plan to head out into the metropolis and head where I want to go with ease. However, the fact remains I was born and grew up in the North of England. As a wheelchair user up there, I found myself very much restrained. For one, the ramps on busses weren’t even automatic, so bus drivers had to grudgingly get out of their cabs to put their ramps out for me. Getting between towns was a real hassle, so it wasn’t until I moved to London, with it’s world-class metropolitan transport system, that I experienced the type of public transport freedom most other people have.

Interestingly though, I just came across this video from TLDR News about the so-called Northern Powerhouse Rail Project. The plan is to create a world-class rail network, uniting cities like Manchester, Liverpool and Leeds. Not that I’m turning into some kind of railway geek, but I must admit I find that pretty exciting. Presumably, any new infrastructure will be accessible, so guys like me are going to be able to get across the region, between towns and cities far, far easier. The whole area will be opened up for wheelchair users and become far more inviting. As a Cheshire Lad I certainly find that positive: it seems the rest of the country is at last receiving the investment and attention London alone has got for far too long. Surely guys like me have as much right to get where we need to go as anyone else, and I frankly find the fact that there’s still a sizeable imbalance between London and the rest of the country, in terms of public transport, especially accessible public transport, rather perverse.

This evening, given what is currently unfolding in the Middle East, I think I better direct everyone back to read what I wrote here. Events in Israel are an issue I have actively chosen to avoid. It isn’t that I don’t care about what is going on there – what self-respecting political and social commenter would turn their back on such a major world issue? – but what is unfolding there is always so thorny and contentious that I find whatever I write it is bound to wind someone up. Now that Trump has become so involved, opinions will have become even stronger and commenting has become even harder to resist; yet I think it is wiser to take a step back and continue to just watch events unfold.

It has been a while since I said anything particularly political or blogged about Brexit here, but I think the best thing I can do today is direct everyone to this very astute vlog by Supertanski. In it, I think she sums up the current, rather perverse state of affairs really well: how Reform are capitalising on and manipulating people’s fears, ignorance and naivites. Farage and co. are essentially conning people, generating a form of warped, fake patriotism; scapegoating immigrants in order to ensure they go unchecked. It’s something such charlatans have always done. It is really quite perverse when you look at it, but the degree to which it is going unnoticed seems to be growing more and more extreme. I’m just glad some of us can still point it out.

I can really get hurt by people sometimes. I was going along a pavement this afternoon, pretty much as normal, when as often happens a woman came walking the other way. There ensued the usual unspoken back-and-forth over who was going to step which way. It actually happens fairy often when you use a powerchair, but usually ends with an amicable smile. Today, however, I couldn’t fail to notice quite a bitter, sarcastic “I’ll get out of your way! It’s probably safer if I do it.” I probably ordinarily wouldn’t have noticed, but she uttered it with such resentment and contempt that I felt instantly concerned; it was as though she suddenly thought I shouldn’t even be out on my own. I really hope it isn’t the sign of the direction public spirits are heading in which I fear it is.

I have come across a very interesting new fiction today. Well, it isn’t that new given that it has been running for ten years, but it’s new to me. I had a shower this morning, during the process of which Dominik gave me a shave and haircut, as he sometimes does. When he was finished, he commented that my hair was now so short that I looked like a character from the series Breaking Bad. I had never watched it, so I didn’t know who he meant. However, I then checked out the first two episodes of the series on Netflix, and was pretty much instantly hooked: I don’t think I have ever watched such a witty, intelligent program. The quality of the writing, which fuses chemistry with criminality, was first rate. I’m just slightly embarrassed that I had never watched it before, but it is now something I certainly intend to get into, especially since I now look like one of it’s lead characters.

I’m not sure how healthy this is, but I have started reacting very negatively indeed to any glimpse I get of anything to do with  JK Rowling or Harry Potter. Ever since she came out as such a deplorable transphobe, as I wrote here a while ago, I haven’t been able to abide anything to do with the bitch. I honestly and quite passionately believe that her dire fourth rate books need to be taken out of print immediately, as they give a huge sociocultural platform to a woman who clearly doesn’t deserve it. Rowling has obviously used the recognition she got from the Harry Potter books as a platform from which to insult and denigrate the entire trans community, which, as someone who once loved a transgender woman, is something I cannot forgive. Earlier today on the bus, for instance, I saw a young woman carrying a Harry Potter book, and it took all the will I could muster to resist knocking it out of her hands, or at least stop myself giving her a piece of my mind.  In fact I’m starting to think that those of us who are concerned with the rights and representation of transgender people should unilaterally go into every book shop we can find and rip the bitch’s shit from the shelves. I realise that might sound rather thuggish, but surely these days, intolerant, closed minded views such as hers are no longer acceptable.

I think I should just congratulate Venezuelan opposition leader María Corina Machado, who, it was just announced, has won the Nobel Peace Prize. She has campaigned for years against the dictatorship in Venezuela, and it’s good to see that she is recognised for her struggles. I’d far rather see the Nobel Prize being awarded to someone like her, who genuinely deserves it, than to a self-important, egotistical fool who seems to think he should be awarded it just for being who he is. Mind you, I suspect this decision will spawn a few tantrums in the White House.

You might have watched the BBC Panorama programme a couple of nights ago about how the incidences of conditions like Autism and ADHD seem to be increasing quite rapidly, and how many more school children now have Special Educational Needs than they did just ten or twenty years ago. Of course I was very interested in it, but was in two minds about commenting on it here: I know as much about what is causing this increase as anyone else. I would, however, just like to pose once fairly obvious question on here: How does this surge in neurological conditions compare with the incidences of more physical conditions? I would be interested to see whether the rates of physical disabilities like cerebral palsy or muscular dystrophy have also increased, or stayed the same. That would at least give us a sort of control or comparison.

I may be being too simplistic, but I can’t help suspecting that this upsurge has a prominent social or cultural aspect which physical disabilities won’t have, given their obvious, unambiguous physical causes. Thus a similar increase in the incidence of conditions like CP would presumably help to rule the possible cultural dimension out. Without such a control and comparable increase, I’m afraid my suspicion that this trend in people purporting to have neurological conditions is just that – a sociocultural trend – will not be going anywhere. As I have said here before, I know autism is a profoundly debilitating disability; yet these days more and more people are said to have it, and in fact it has become quite common. That can’t fail to strike me as extremely odd, especially if the prevalences of other conditions aren’t going up as well.

‘Woke’ is increasingly being used as an insult, particularly by those who don’t seem to realise what it means.

…All the more reason to take pride in calling yourself woke, frankly.

I know I really shouldn’t just direct everyone to random, deranged Youtube videos, but if you want a glimpse of just how bizarre the world of AI is getting, as well as to see what Elvis Presley would look like if he was captain of the Starship Enterprise, just check this out. Seriously though, such footage puts me in awe of just how advanced, how realistic, AI-generated mashups are becoming: we’ll soon reach the point where we’ll be unable to tell reality and fiction apart any more.

As deeply uncomfortable and horrified as it makes me, I think anyone who cares about the current state the USA is in needs to watch this. It’s a Times Radio documentary on American evangelical megachurches and their links to Donald Trump and the MAGA movement, and you won’t be surprised to read that I find it utterly obscene. What such ‘churches’ do in manipulating people, brainwashing them, even extorting a significant amount of their income from them, goes well beyond the comprehension of any rational person. What makes it even worse is that it is overtly political: these people believe with all their hearts that Trump was somehow ordained by ‘god’, and anyone opposing him is an evil demon. While the film does not give us any idea of just how widespread the cult it is depicting has become, leading me to hope that it is a small, fringe group, the fact that such absolute insanity exists at all in America is very, very frightening.

When I came across this appalling news earlier, that the Tories now plan to take the UK out of the European Convention on Human Rights if they win the next election, my automatic reaction was to wonder where they plan to build the gas chambers for everyone the tories deem ‘useless eaters’? I was, of course, being rather facetious – I don’t actually think the Tories intend to exterminate anyone. Nonetheless, I think there is a grain of ugly truth at the bottom of that sentiment. The ECHR has guaranteed and safeguarded our human rights for decades. Without it we would all be defenceless, open to the most sickening manipulation and persecution. The rich and powerful would be able to do as they please with the vulnerable and weak; racism and intolerance would become commonplace, even lauded. It opens up the prospect of a future so hideous, so unjust, that it doesn’t bear thinking about. Thus, while the Tories might not go as far as creating execution camps, I seriously think taking us out of the ECHR would be a horrifying step in that direction.

I had a shower this morning. I shower fairly often of course, but these days I have four personal assistants, so different chaps help me each time. This morning it was Dom’s turn, and as usual he was also helping me to shave. Sitting there getting wet earlier, something fairly interesting occurred to me: everyone uses a slightly different method of shaving my face. Artur uses long, deep strokes; Dom uses shorter, lighter strokes, re-applying shaving foam. Dad, if memory serves, was somewhere in the middle, shaving sessions often infused with cries of “Keep still you fool!” Ultimately, though, they all achieve the same goal: I always end up with my face nice and smooth and well-shaven. It just interests me to reflect upon how much variety there can be for such a simple, everyday task. It occurs to me that probably only someone like myself would ever notice such variation, as most men only shave themselves, no doubt using the same method day after day. Everyone has their own way of doing things, their own method of reaching the same end. At the end of the day though, it all serves the same purpose. We all have the same needs; all men have faces to shave. It doesn’t really matter how they do it, as long as their faces our smooth by the end. As a community we seem to be forgetting that fact, and turning simple differences into outright divisions. Ultimately, though, it’s all air-filled foam to be washed down the drain.

I don’t really have much to say today – not much that is blogworthy anyway. Following on from yesterday, I thought I’d take the Bakerloop up to Waterloo again. Today though, rather than crossing the river to come home from Westminster, I thought I’d trundle west along the river a bit – that is still an area of the city I don’t know much about. It started as quite a lovely roll, but I soon realised that the area I was heading into was becoming more and more built up. I eventually got as far as Battersea Power Station. I must say, however, that what I found there was astonishing: I last headed that way about three years ago, and even then I found the amount of money being poured into that area jaw-dropping. Heading that way again this afternoon, it had grown even more obscenely flamboyant and gentrified. Walking into the shopping mall was like being teleported to Dubai, not that I would ever buy anything from such a place. To get a glimpse of what I mean, watch this. Then again, it’s the same situation all across London: the whole city is turning into a kind of perverse, hyper-wealthy distortion of reality, in which the people who live here gradually are loosing their grip on what really matters.

I don’t think I’ve ever come across a more sickening, gratuitous example of cultural misappropriation (read: outright theft) than the one detailed here. I’m not going to say much about it, but the racist disgrace to human civilisation Stephen Yaxley-Lennon has been told to stop using the famous anti-apartheid theme Something Inside So Strong at his rallies. “For decades, Labi Siffre’s hit (Something Inside) So Strong has been a global anthem against apartheid. It was inspired by a documentary about apartheid-era South Africa, and was widely reported to be Nelson Mandela’s favourite song. But now the singer-songwriter has taken the step of issuing Tommy Robinson with a cease and desist order after the far-right activist incorporated the song into his social media posts and used it at the recent “unite the kingdom” rally in central London.”

If that doesn’t strike you as perverse, I don’t know what will: it’s as if the racist, violent thug is trying to frame himself as some kind of freedom fighter, on the level of great civil rights activists like Mandella or Martin Luthur-King. The obvious reality is, Robinson is the figurehead of the very kind of intolerance, arrogance and bigotry such heroes fought against. More to the point, Yaxley-Lennon seems to be trying to spin the story that he is the victim of some enormous injustice, silenced by the state as Mandela was. For the p’tahk to make such vainglorious, self-pitying claims for himself really is sickening: Rather than being a civil rights leader, Yaxley-Lennon is nothing but a racist scumbag whose views have no place whatsoever in civilised society. Rather than being somehow discriminated against, he is the one pompously demanding the right to discriminate in a society where such bigotry is no longer acceptable.

If anyone fancies a bit of James Bond related news (read: gossip), then I think this is worth a read. It’s just a pretty standard, mainstream film magazine article, although I’m told it’s author is pretty reliable. It does, however, contain two key details which I think are worth highlighting: firstly, those in the know assure us that the next actor to be cast as 007 will be British and male. Given that is broadly in keeping with the character created by Ian Fleming, I find that satisfactorily reassuring. Secondly, we are told that filming for the next Bond film is set to begin in 2027, ready for a release in ’28. Given that doesn’t seem that far off, it feels like I suddenly have something to look forward to.

Needless to say, this is certainly a topic I’ll be returning to: the world seems so dismal right now, we can all do with some James Bond escapism, sooner rather than later.

I remember, when I was very young, telling people that my biggest wish was to be “normal”. I used to watch able-bodied children like my brothers doing all kinds of wonderful things which I physically couldn’t do, and feel left out. How wonderful it must be, I reasoned, to be a normal boy. The people I told this to, of course, replied that there was no such thing as normal, and that everyone is normal in their own way.

They were perfectly right of course, and I have taken the notion as a personal standard ever since. Having a physical disability does not mean I am any more or less abnormal than anyone else. The odd thing is, I have recently noticed a surge in people, especially online, referring to other people as “normal”, “neurotypicals” or “normies”, as if they saw themselves as something else. It is no longer cool to be normal, apparently. As far as I could tell, though, all of these people would have been what I would call normal: straight, able bodied and economically privileged enough to make YouTube videos. Yet they seem absolutely desperate to other themselves; to not be perceived as a member of the privileged majority. They obviously think that such a majority exists, but are desperate not to be seen as part of it.

Needless to say, this trend does not sit well with me, or at least strikes me as very strange. It may only be a turn of phrase, but it seems as if the otherness I have felt all my life is now being craved by people who, as far as I can tell, will know nothing of the social ostracisation that members of minorities face. They only claim to be abnormal because they want to be seen as abnormal, usually claiming to have neurological conditions that I doubt they really have, or have very tenuous links to having diagnosed themselves based on a set of fairly vague criteria (please see my reflections on this issue here). Thus they gleefully refer to everyone else as “normies”, jumping onto this or that social bandwagon, urgently emphasising what they think makes them distinct or different. Yet in doing so they mock and insult those of us who have actually lived on the fringes of society, feeling the sting of otherness in every kid’s jeer all our lives.

Perfectly put, quite frankly.

I am under no illusion that not many people read my blog: It is mainly visited by a few of my friends and family members who know about it, and a few people I’ve met out in London who I have shown it to. That’s fine by me: to me, blogging is about recording my thoughts and experiences for posterity, rather than seeking attention. I feel it is important that I do my bit to convey to the world what life is like for a man with cerebral palsy. The problem is, more and more people these days seem to be using the internet to attract attention and entice people to their blog, YouTube channel or whatever. This means that their output is becoming more deranged and extreme. Earlier on the breakfast news for example, there was an item about the many online conspiracy theories which sprang up after a teenager went missing: people began making up all kinds of baseless, nonsensical stories about the child just so that other people read what they said. Something similar is happening with regard to the ‘flat Earth’ phenomenon, with people now spouting all kinds of preposterous, idiotic nonsense just to attract viewers. The people who create this shyte don’t care how wrong they may be, as long as they get attention. The result, I worry, is the steady reduction of the standard of online public discourse into a quagmire of general stupidity. Now that so many people have access to the web and can articulate their thoughts and opinions to virtually everyone else, we all seem to be feeling a desperate urge to be the centre of attention. For my part though, I’ll just continue spouting inane nonsense on here as I always have, trying not to get too provocative.

I just read that an all-party parliamentary group is being set up to represent the interests of online content creators, and that ‘YouTube content creators contributed £2.2bn to UK economy in 2024’. As a blogger, I must admit that strikes me as rather interesting. YouTube was apparently set up in February 2005, so I have been blogging a couple of years longer than it has been around; yet it interests me to reflect on how the website seems to have more or less taken over the internet itself. Apart perhaps from Facebook, it is the website everyone visits no matter what. I personally go straight to it every morning when I get to my computer. This truly astronomical figure is surely a sign of just how dominant it has become, and perhaps it isn’t surprising that these ‘influencers’ now carry so much weight that they require political representation. Mind you, as someone who, by and large, confines his online output to text, and who was a member of the first wave of blogging back in the early noughties, I can’t help now feeling slightly left behind.

Given that it is in the news, and I have touched on the subject a couple of times, I feel I should probably say something about Trump’s recent comments regarding Autism. I am, however, not an expert on the subject by any means: although I have met quite a few people who were on the autistic spectrum over the years, I know as much about it as any other lay person. While I went to a special school with students who had profound neurological disorders and learning difficulties, the kids in my class all had physical disabilities, and none of them were autistic. I am very concerned, though, that the issue and condition is becoming increasingly politicised. These days, we hear about it more and more; more and more people are now said to have it; frankly, it is looking more and more like a sociopolitical bandwagon that everybody’s dying to jump onto. I worry that these recent idiotic comments from Donald Trump are only going to stoke that fire, and make the current commotion surrounding what is, at the end of the day, a profoundly debilitating neurological disorder, even worse. Nobody knows what causes autism, or even fully understands what it is; yet it is becoming increasingly political. As a topic it is becoming volatile, with people openly arguing over what it is and who can claim to have it; and now that the fool currently leading the USA has barged in on the topic, things are going to get even worse.

To my great, great relief I’m glad to say that I am back online and able to access the internet from home once more. A very friendly technician just came and fixed the broken cable, and it feels like I’m back in touch with the wider world. It’s quite strange to reflect upon how dependent on the web we have become, though: guys like me now use it for almost everything, from watching TV to keeping in touch with my parents. Without it I felt completely lost, even though I was only offline for a relatively short time.

Appropriately enough, while I was waiting for the technician this morning I thought I’d watch 2001, A Space Odyssey, just for a bit of classical Hollywood escapism. Believe it or not I don’t think I’ve really sat down to watch Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 classic before, or at least haven’t in over twenty years. What I found myself watching this morning was a jaw-dropping masterpiece: a slow, reflexive thesis on the ever-increasing role technology plays in contemporary society. Certainly, it shows it’s age, and you can tell the film premiered well before Star Wars hit cinema screens in 1977; but it seemed to me that that leant it a certain profundity. 2001, A Space Odyssey was created well before the advent of the internet or AI, but seems to foreshadow a world in which computers are becoming ever more dominant, lifelike, and essential to our daily lives. That gave the film a hint of ominousness which really resonated with me. It was enough to reflect to myself that all the characters really needed to do to shut Hal off was unplug their router. More to the point, though, much of the cinematography was truly spectacular, such as the use of camera framing to convey the sense that the characters were weightless. Frankly, a lot of it made my jaw drop in awe, and I couldn’t help lamenting to myself that they really don’t make films like this any more.

It is probably extremely strange that I find myself getting incredibly nervous if I don’t manage to blog. I have now been blogging for so long and so regularly that it is part of my daily routine, and I seem to get a desperate sensation of failure if I fail to post a blog entry at least every couple of days. Basically my personal assistant Artur was cleaning yesterday and accidentally unplugged my WiFi router at home, so I haven’t been online since. The cable should be fixed shortly, but until then my usual witterings might be suspended.

Call me old fashioned, but I still believe plays should have plots. That is, they should tell coherent stories with beginnings, middles and ends; and the audience should be able to discern the plot fairly easily. Watching a play is, after all, entertainment. John and I went to see Stereophonic last night. It was his idea, but naturally I’m always up for new things. Truth be told I knew absolutely nothing about David Adjmi’s 2023 play, but a night up in London always beats yet another evening watching TV.

What I found myself watching, however, was woefully disappointing: first of all, the wheelchair space at the Duke of York theatre was abysmal, and I could barely see half of the stage. That probably negatively effected my attitude, as quite frankly I found the performance as dull as ditchwater. It was set in a studio and was about members of a fictional Californian band creating an album. That, just about, is it. The way it dragged on about the character’s relationships frankly reminded me of a soap opera, and not a very entertaining one at that. I found the performance extremely dull, with very little in terms of action and intrigue, and quite frankly I didn’t see the point.

I know I should always relish going to the theatre. London is, after all, one of the most theatrical cities on Earth. The performance we went to last night, though, simply wasn’t up to scratch: The plot (inasmuch as there was one) was tiresome, the characterisation dull, the music uninspiring. I don’t know whether I missed some important detail or what, but last night could have been much better.

I’m quite sure that I’m speaking for us all when I say that there can be little more nationally embarrassing than the sight of your sovereign and other elected heads of state all effectively kissing the arse of a known conman, fraudster and charlatan, just because he happens to lead the world’s foremost superpower. Like everyone else I watched the footage of last night with disgust this morning: Trump putting on his statesman act, reading words he clearly barely understood, yet having the air of someone who assumed he was born to attend such dinners; King Charles clearly buttering him up, using carefully chosen words to keep the buffoon on our side, while obviously knowing full well that he was participating in nothing more than a charade. It was a sickening, perverse, spectacle. Especially given all the abject politics Trump represents, I’m sure I’m not the only person wondering how it came to this.

Perhaps one of the oddest things about being a blogger, and blogging as regularly as I do, is that you suspect that readers are expecting you to write about certain things on certain days. Political chap that I am, you’re probably all expecting me to write something about Trump’s visit today. Yet to be honest there isn’t much I can say: Having been shopping earlier, my corner of London seems perfectly normal; and as much as I loathe the egotistical jackass I’m not particularly interested whether Trump visits or not. You can probably take my contempt with the entire farce that is currently unfolding as read. Thus I think the best thing I can do today is direct everyone to this rather excellent Channel Four documentary about the twit and his pal Elon, just for a bit of background.