Attentive readers  may have noticed that, in my entry yesterday, I initially spelled the name of the Ukrainian capital Kiev but later changed it to Kyiv. This is because my Mum contacted me yesterday evening to remind me that ‘Kiev’ is the russian spelling, whereas Ukrainians prefer to spell it Kyiv, so we should adopt their spelling as a mark of solidarity. Mum was right of course, and I was more than happy to change it. I probably wouldn’t have mentioned it, but I just came across this article in the London Economic. Rather cooly, Sainsbury’s are now changing the spelling on their Chicken Kyiv packaging to the Ukrainian spelling. I think that is rather awesome, and worth noting here. We need to show solidarity and unity with those being attacked so callously in whatever way we can, even if it’s just how we spell the names of their cities. While changing how we spell names and words may not sound like much when people are suffering so horribly, on a cultural or semiotic level, it shows that we stand with the oppressed not the oppressor.

What I was talking about here a few weeks ago, about competition being a unifying phenomenon, seems to suddenly now have an added resonance. I just caught up with the winter paralympic opening ceremony. In it, IPC president Andrew Parsons made an unusually emotive, political speech condemning what is currently happening in Ukraine. “I want – I must – begin with a message of peace as the leader of our organisation. I am horrified at what is taking place in the world right now. The 21st century is a time for dialogue and diplomacy, not war and hate.” He continued “The Olympic Truce for peace during the Olympic and Paralympic Games is a UN resolution. It must be respected and observed, not violated. At the IPC we aspire to a better and more inclusive growth, free from discrimination, free from hate, free from ignorance, and free from conflict.”* This is clearly a reference to the increasingly bloody, disturbing images coming from places like Kyiv. What is going on there is the categorical opposite of the spirit of unity events like the olympics aim to foster. We should be coming together to compete and play, not murdering one another.

After all, Kyiv is a city full of ordinary people, just like London, Paris or Beijing; it might even host it’s own olympics one day. People there should be going about their lives as usual. Yet instead, it’s currently being bombed to bits by a hostile, arrogant neighbour with no respect for international law. Thus I’m glad that Parsons used his speech to comment about what is going on, and to express the revolt all of us are feeling. I’m also pleased to see that, in the end, Russian athletes were prevented from competing. While they may have been personally innocent and have no connection to the war, what the country they represent is doing is unacceptable and cannot be tolerated in any way. The world does not and can not accept aggressive, hostile states into it’s fold.

*Quotes lifted from this Guardian article.

This morning, during my ablutions, I said Vladamir Putin was a P’tahk. Serkan has never watched Star Trek, but has heard me use such words and knows where they come from. He said that he didn’t think I should use words from a made up language when talking about what is now happening in Ukraine – it’s far too serious an issue. He had a point, of course, but at the same time I think the word fit. Fictional though they may be, Klingons are a people of honour. Although it was never fully defined on the programme, when they called someone a ‘P’tahk’, it meant they thought they were disgraceful or verminous. I think we should all be appalled by what Putin is doing. Theres now a full-scale ground war in Europe. Thousands are fleeing. How the fuck can this be happening in 2022? Putin really is a disgrace to human civilisation: I can think of no words to describe what he is doing, so by calling him a P’tahk, I invoke the values of honour I see in Klingons. War-like they may be, but they would not invade a neighbouring country for no reason, or displace thousands of innocent, defenceless people – they would see no honour in such wonton acts. By using a word from their (artificial) language, I don’t want to make light of what is now happening; I want to reference the values I read in their fictional civilisation to express my absolute revolt at what is now going on.

I suppose what I was writing about here, about sport being a unifying force which brings nations together, is somewhat complicated when you have nutters like Putin running countries. While it’s a bit perverse to even be thinking about such issues when people are being killed, I’m glad to see that the IPC has chosen to make Russian athletes compete as neutrals in the upcoming winter games. The whole world must unite in telling Putin that what he has done cannot be tolerated, and that includes the world of sport. Pressure must be piled on him to stop what he’s doing in any way we can. If sport really is a force for good, I’m glad to see it being used to send a message to those who do wrong.

I just noticed something rather cheerful and encouraging. I now live on a newly-built road flanked by two rows of two storey flats. The road itself was developed only recently, and the buildings are less than three years old. This is thus a new community of neighbours, woven into the far older surrounding area. It’s the type of community which has a Facebook group, and a couple of days ago a hand-written list of upcoming community events was posted through my door. I was just coming back from a quick trip to Tesco, and my heart was warmed to notice how many of my neighbours now recognise me and either say ‘Hi’ or wave. It’s as if we’re getting to know one another and develop friendships. While I suspect it’s progress was slowed by the pandemic, it’s lovely to see this little area form it’s own spirit and sense of belonging. It feels great to be recognised by my neighbours and greeted as a friend, and I really hope this community continues to develop and flourish. After all, with all that is happening in the world at the moment, I think we could all do with a bit more friendship.

I realise I said a couple of days ago that I didn’t want to say much about the situation in Ukraine on here, but I think it’s fast becoming something that we should all be very, very concerned about. As others are now saying, things could escalate very quickly indeed: the invasion isn’t going as well as Putin intended, and there’s no knowing to what depths he will stoop if he gets desperate. His threat to use nuclear weapons may have been an attempt at a sabre rattling distraction, but things could become very nasty very quickly, especially if other powers get sucked in. As much as I don’t want to sound melodramatic, this is possibly the biggest crisis the world has faced in many, many years.

All we can do is wait and watch. Good luck to us all.

Today I’d like to wish my brother Luke a very happy birthday. We had our weekly family Skype meeting a day early this morning, just so we could all wish my younger brother the best. I’m pleased to report everyone seems to be doing well, including my young niece and nephew who seem to be thriving. Mind you, such meetings in cyberspace, with my parents and two brothers, only remind me how long it has been since we were last all together physically. Hopefully now the pandemic is subsiding, it won’t be too long until we can all meet up. Skype meetings are all well and good, but you can’t beat a family chat over some of mum’s cooking.

Happy birthday Luke.

Over the years I have felt it my duty as a blogger to pass comment on what is going on in the world. I like to give my opinion on current affairs. Today though, a new dark chapter began: something happened which I don’t feel able to comment on. What is now happening in Ukraine is utterly disturbing: war has returned to Europe for the first time in over seventy years. Yet I know as much about the situation as anyone. I can offer no special comment or analysis. It’s probably best, then, if I just continue my usual ramblings on my blog, and avoid trying to write about the unfolding emergency. If I do, however, please know that it’s not that I don’t care about what is now happening in Eastern Europe; I am simply as aghast as anyone else. After all, what could I possibly write which could have any impact or meaning, in the face of such folly?

Today I would just like to ask a question; it’s something I’ve been pondering for a few days. When you look at it, the James Bond film franchise has quite astounding links to the British state, going back decades: as illustrated here, each new film in the series gets a royal premiere, and over the years there have been many other links between 007 and royalty. As this article outlines, “The Royal Family willingly associates with the James Bond ‘brand’ largely due to the ‘Britishness’ of the James Bond franchise. The character is an iconic figure who transmits many of the purported strengths associated with the United Kingdom”. My question is, are there any other media franchises – film, tv or whatever – with such strong links to a given state? I can’t think of any other franchise anywhere else in the world which gets such treatment, or which is such a large part of a country’s cultural identity. I’d be interested to see if there were any which come close.

Today I just want to wish my aunt Toula a very happy birthday. She and my parents are currently staying at the old family house in Kilburn, so, on the spur of the moment, I thought I’d go up there to see them. It’s quite a straightforward trip (bus tube bus) but because I have to go via Wembley park for step free access, it takes well over two hours either way. The problem was, I hadn’t told them I was coming, so they might not have been in and the entire trip could have been wasted. Luckily though, my aunt and mum were there – dad had to make an emergency trip back north – and the three of us spent a lovely hour or so talking and eating nice, fresh cake. I think my aunt was very pleased for the surprise.

I’m growing ever more confident in getting around this vast city: it’s public transport system is far from perfect, and it needs serious work to make it accessible for guys like me. Yet trips like the one I made today remind me that London is as much my home as anyone else’s, lying out there waiting for me to explore.

I just had a great day with John. A couple of days ago, he suggested going to see Let It Be down at Greenwich Picturehouse, a small independent cinema not far away. I didn’t know much about Let It Be other than that it had something to do with The Beatles, but being a fan of Peter Jackson I was keen to see his latest film. I thus went into the cinema not quite knowing what to expect, but quite intrigued: for one, just how similar to Jackson’s other work, stylistically, would this film be?

The answer to that soon became obvious: Let It Be is about as far from an epic fantasy or classic gorilla remake as you can get. Instead, this was a wonderful documentary which cut together archive footage of the Beatles’ recordings for the video for the album Let it Be. Filmed originally on a rooftop in central London, the new film re-weaves together footage of the legendarry band playing with that of events going on around it: people on the street below looking up in shock upon hearing the music; the police trying to gain access to the building, trying to stop the recording for disturbing the peace. The film incorporates the most advanced use of split-screen I’ve ever seen, so we get a real sense of events happening simultaneously. The technique really draws you in, so that in the end you are mesmerised by this historical, cultural event taking place on a London rooftop over fifty years ago. At only about an hour long, this isn’t a long film; but it is a treat for both music lovers and cinephiles, well worth going to the cinema for. It would seem there’s far more to Peter Jackson than Hobbits.

Say what you like about Alastair Campbell, I totally agree with him on this.

Excuse me, but I really need to get this off my chest. Cinemas are physical places, not television channels. A TV channel which airs films does not have the right to call itself a cinema. If it does, it is being pretentious and understands nothing about either film or cinephilia. Cinemas are buildings; physical places we have to go out and enter into. They are dedicated to screening and consuming films: they have an aura about them (Bazin), a specific feeling you only experience when watching a film in a darkened auditorium. That is very different to watching a film when it’s aired on TV. Channels which title theirselves ‘cinema’ such as Sky Cinema clearly do so to try to claim some of the prestige of cinemas, or to fool the dopes who watch them that they’re having the same experience; when in fact paying Rupert Murdoch through the nose to watch films on your TV you could have seen months ago, doesn’t even come close to experiencing a film in a cinema.

Sport is a weird phenomenon, when you think about it. On the face of it, it pits two or more people or groups of people against one another; it encourages competition and rivalry. Yet at the same time it is about bringing people together, either to compete or spectate. Whether it’s football, cricket, or any other sport, people come together to enjoy it. This is probably especially so for international competitions: events such as the Olympics or Football world cup encourage people to converge in one place to enjoy sport together, irrespective of international rivalries or supposed differences. Take, for example, the oldest, biggest sporting rivalry I know of: the Ashes. For well over a century now, every two years the english and Australian cricket teams have come together to battle it out. On the face of it, there is no love lost between the two sides, and competition is fierce. Yet at the end of the day, England and Australia remain firm allies, with huge cultural exchanges between the two nations.

Take the Olympics too, in both it’s summer and winter forms: every couple of years, the world comes together to focus our attention onto one city. On the face of it, we all support our respective teams, hoping they win plenty of medals. Yet on a much deeper level, events like the olympics are about global unity. Every two years, we all get to experience a different city, which has the privilege of showing itself off to the world. Whether physically or through the media, we get to visit places we otherwise never might, and watch our teams as they compete in sports which we otherwise would have little knowledge of. To this end, I was just watching the Curling from Beijing: I didn’t know much about curling, but could feel myself thoroughly getting into it as the match wore on.

For me, such events aren’t so much about who wins what, as much as the act of coming together to compete. Each country forms it’s team to send across the world to meet others and play against them. An event which on the face of it is about rivalry is actually about unity: we all come together to enjoy eachother’s company, relishing the rivalries and different approaches to each game, while knowing that at the end of the day, we leave each court, track or playing field as friends. That is why I see the olympic games as an incredibly progressive force, especially if you factor in what the paralympics does for the representation of disability. Thus while they may come under some flack from some quarters, as I once wrote here, I actually think we need more events like the olympics: global, mass media events which draw the worlds attention, and which bring us all together as one global community. What form such events may take I’m not sure: they might focus on sport, but they could equally be celebrations of art and culture. Above all, they should bring people together, just as the Olympic Games do.

A storm is coming and it looks nasty. I just heard on the news that the Met office has issued it’s most severe weather warning for the north of Britain: storm Eunice could bring gusts of over 100mph. I should be okay here: I plan to hunker down and stay inside; and the capital should be spared the worst of it anyway. But to all my northern friends and family reading this, I say: stay safe guys – this storm looks nasty.

Perhaps I’m overreacting or being melodramatic, but I’m currently checking the news headlines every few minutes or so. In the last two or three days at least, it would seem that Eastern Europe has edged closer to a war than it has been for a long time, and I must admit I’m quite worried about it. Of course, you could point out that Russia now says it’s pulling back it’s troops from the Ukrainian border, or that this entire affair might just be one of Putin’s ploys to get everyone dancing to his tune; yet surely the last three days or so has brought us closer to a cataclysm than it has been for a long time. The ramifications of such a war could be catastrophic. I have no idea what Putin may be playing at or the forces at work here, so while the whole debacle will hopefully blow over as quickly as it arose, you’ll understand why I currently keep checking the news.

He can try to dress it up as an issue of bodily autonomy all he wants, if you ask me, Novak Djokovic is an anti-vaxxer prick who should be immediately stripped of all his trophies, banned from playing tennis for life and put to work collecting rubbish. This is a man who thinks he has a right to put other people in danger simply because he does not want to take a jab most other people have now had. Too precious about what goes into his body, he would knowingly risk spreading a deadly virus rather than get vaccinated. As I wrote here a few weeks ago, selfish idiots like him infuriate me. Surely we need wiser, more altruistic rolemodels than this arrogant idiot in the media and on our sports pitches. Not only should he be prevented from playing in upcoming competitions; he should be stripped of his previous titles and banned from professional tennis. At least that would send a clear message that such selfish, arrogant behaviour is not acceptable.

Would it be fair to say that American Football is a slower sport than test cricket? I realise that may be a bit of a random question coming from me, but this morning, out of pure curiosity I thought I would watch last night’s superbowl. I had never seen an American Football match in full before, and wanted to see what it was about. Long ago, back at uni, Ricardio used to have his drama group play American Football as part of their warm up, from where I knew the basics: it is a rather chess-like game, with a strong tactical element. It’s also much more start/stop than football (soccer) with play continuing in spurts rather than flowing continuously. The way it was comprised of planned out plays made me wonder whether it could be reminiscent of test cricket, made up of balls and overs.

With that in mind, I started watching the Superbowl on Iplayer earlier this morning. At first, I began to get into it; but then, three minutes into the match or even less, the play was halted and the Beeb cut back to the studio (presumably in America this is where adverts would be). It soon became clear that this would continue for the whole event: we would only see snippets of action before it was interrupted, and four fifteen minute quarters would be stretched over three hours. I know people call cricket slow-paced and boring, but this struck me as ridiculous: in tests, you get a ball every minute or two, but in American football there was far more studio time than actual sport.

It’s strange: I have the patience to watch and appreciate a four or five day long cricket match, but an hour long American football match struck me as tedious. I don’t think it was the sport itself, which still strikes me as quite tactical, as much as the way in which play was interrupted every few seconds for overlong breaks. In fact, I got as far as the third quarter before I lost patience: about 35 to 40 minutes into the match and I’d had enough. Mind you, whereas in a soccer match that would be just before half time, I had already watched over two hours of the program to reach that point. I really can’t see how so many people can be so enthralled by American football when so much of the time dedicated to it is wasted.

I just watched the latest episode of the Green Planet, on deserts, and I really must say how utterly amazed it has left me. I have written about my admiration for Sir David Attenborough on here before: here we have a man who has surely done far more than anyone else to open our eyes to and increase our knowledge of the natural world. Not only that, the filmmaking in these programmes is incredible. Watching just now, my jaw dropped at the complexity and beauty of some – indeed most – of the shots. As someone who is interested in filmmaking as an art form, I was spellbound. There was one shot in particular, in about the middle of the programme, where Attenborough is filmed standing by a large bush in a desert. He visited the same plant for another show forty years before, so they were able to film him from the same angle, with the plant in exactly the same place, and seamlessly merge the two shots. The great man ages four decades, but the plant barely changes. I find that sort of filmmaking astonishing, but you can only do such things with people with careers as long and brilliant as Sir David Attenborough’s. This is television at it’s best; even after seventy years, he is still the greatest thing on television.

As doom-laden as it is, I think the best thing I can flag up on here today is this Guardian article. In it, Johnathan Freedland begins to spell out precisely what a mess Brexit is making and the damage it is doing to the UK economy. Of course, you could point out that it was all predicted by the Remain campaign years ago, but now, almost day by day, it becomes clearer and clearer what a catastrophic mistake Brexit was: the referendum result was reached based on proven lies, and we have seen none of the fanciful benefits the Outists promised us. Now that the Brexshit is starting to hit the fan, I think the most prudent thing to do would be to get the campaign to rejoin going as soon as possible.

To be honest I’m a bit baffled by Cressida Dick’s resignation from the met. Why did she need to go? There’s not much I feel I can write about it, but I think this sums the farce up nicely.

Ages ago, when I started blogging, I used to occasionally write entries on the Evolution/creationism debate. It was a subject which really got me worked up and I wanted to have my say in it. I stopped writing about it on here when my brother Luke pointed out that there were far more knowledgable people writing on the subject, and perhaps I should concentrate my ramblings on things which affected me personally, or which I had personal knowledge of. Luke was right, of course, but it is an issue which has never stopped fascinating me: the evidence for evolution is utterly overwhelming, so how can so many people refuse to acknowledge it, and insist that everyone is taught the myths in a two-thousand year old book instead? I find it baffling. I would be content to ignore these nutcases, of course, but what concerns me most is that they appear to be gaining power, particularly in America. Yesterday evening I came across this fascinating Youtube channel run by an American biology teacher. He takes creationist Youtube videos and goes through them, point by point, explaining why the original vids make no sense. He clearly knows what he’s talking about, but I thought it worth flagging up on here because it shows how worryingly distorted certain aspects of american society have become: It seems like they will stop at nothing to ensure their religion dominates over all other views, and that they are becoming more and more aggressive and extreme. I think we should find this very concerning, particularly given how reactionary and conservative they are too. At least certain Americans, like Forrest Valkai, are trying to hold them in check.

I’m now slightly curious about something which I keep seeing, which I wonder whether anyone could enlighten me on. A few times now, I’ve spotted pairs of shoes which have been tied together by their laces and thrown over overhead telephone cables. There’s an instance by the small park at the bottom of my road. At first I assumed it was just a kid pratting about, but I’ve seen the same thing two or three times now: footwear, tied together, hanging from overhead cables. Does anyone know what that might be about? Has anyone else seen this?

It may have been one of the very first things I came across on Facebook this morning, but I think this certainly warrants a blog entry. The RSC has at last cast a disabled actor as Richard III. After years of campaigning, we are finally going to see a disabled actor portray a famously disabled character. “Now, for the first time, the Royal Shakespeare Company has cast a disabled actor in the title role of Richard III in a new production opening later this year. For Arthur Hughes, it is a “dream come true” although his first reaction to being cast as the 15th-century king of England was disbelief.” Hughes goes on to say how complex the character is, and how his own disability will help him portray the role.

In many ways this is quite a step forward. Disability activists have long campaigned for disabled characters to be played by disabled actors: there is something about the lived experience of having a disability – social exclusion, the feeling of being outcast or different etc. – that only we can bring to a role. More to the point, just as you wouldn’t cast a white actor in a black role, I think having able-bodied actors play disabled characters is a tad patronising: it sort of steals our voice from us, as if able-bodied people presume they can speak for disabled people. Believe me, we can speak for ourselves, given half a chance.

The article also touches upon When Barbara Met Alan, the upcoming BBC drama about DAN. I really can’t wait to see it. Arthur Hughes is in both. I’ll be intrigued to see what they do. Mind you, perhaps it’s worth pointing out that, without the activism of groups such as DAN, we wouldn’t now be seeing disabled actors in the RSC.

I was just watching the evening news, which carried the remarkable story of a man with a severed spine being helped to walk again through the use of an electronic implant. This is, of course, incredible, and I don’t begrudge the guy his treatment in the slightest. Yet I just feel I want to point something out: the treatment cost £100,000; wouldn’t it be a better idea to use such staggering amounts of money to make society more accessible? Rather than pouring so much money and effort into making disabled people fit into environments they aren’t suited to, why not change the environment to suit them? Instead of helping this guy walk again, why not simply ensure he has a great quality of life as a wheelchair user? At least that way, far more people are helped, rather than a select few individuals with specific, treatable conditions. Why is it so important that people like this are ‘fixed’ or ‘repaired’, when they can have great lives just as they are, if only society changed slightly to meet their needs.

I think I made something of a mistake this afternoon. Yesterday I came across Mark Kermode’s review of Moonfall. The good doctor was so damning, and found the film so awful, that in a strange way I became intrigued. No film could possibly be that bad, I reasoned; maybe it was some kind of spoof or joke film. Maybe the direness was some kind of intentional gimmick.

Wanting to see for myself i therefore took myself to the cinema this afternoon. It had been a while since I last went to the flicks anyway, so I think it was in order. But I now know how utterly wrong I was not to just trust Kermode. I seriously doubt I have ever seen anything as mind-numbingly crap as the film I watched earlier: I am staggered that it was ever made. It had the scientific literacy of a gerbil, and the shit I did this morning was probably more intelligent than the script. It was so nauseatingly stupid it was insulting. The concerning thing is, it seemed to take itself and want to be taken seriously; it didn’t seem to realise it was so moronic and thought of itself as a standard blockbuster. More to the point, the way it pressed certain ideas onto us, such as the validity of conspiracy theories, gave the film the aspect of having quite a concerning agenda. There was nothing ironic or self-knowing about it – the film was just dire, but dire with a nutjob agenda. Frankly, I left the cinema flabbergasted that any producer or director could have read such a screenplay and decided to turn it into a film, rather than throw it straight into the bin where it clearly belonged.

Just to clear up the ‘happy news’ I was talking about here a few days ago, it is my joy to announce my friend Charlotte has given birth to a baby girl. Olive Robyn was born last week, and both she and her mum are doing well. C asked me not to broadcast it immediately, but has now given me permission to write this entry. I now can’t wait to go up and visit them, Alex and the rest of the Joneses. Mr. and Mrs J must be overjoyed! I daresay a Jones garden party is long overdue.

I haven’t watched it from start to finish, but I just had a quick whizz through of the Beijing Winter Olympic Opening Ceremony. Truth be told, I didn’t see much to get my analytical or critical juices flowing, although I’d just like to point one thing out: does it not strike anyone as odd that, apart from Chinese, the main language being used is English? Why is English now so prominent? They may have used a smattering of French (I suspect due to IOC rules) but all the speeches were delivered using English, the signs were english etc. As I was saying here a couple of entries ago, English seems to be becoming ubiquitous, so that it dominates international events like the Olympics, even in places as far flung as China. While that might work to my advantage given English is the only language I understand, to see one tongue becoming so dominant to the exclusion of all others is surely a bit of a shame.

It has reached the point where seemingly random people are starting to recognise me. I was out trundling near the Royal Standard this afternoon, when all of a sudden a man walking the other way says “Hi Matt.” I had no idea who he was, but apparently he knew me from when I drank in the King’s Arms in Charlton about eight years ago. That sort of thing seems to happen wherever I go: I bump into people who claim to know me, but whom I can’t remember ever meeting. It used to happen when I was living in Congleton  or Alsager, but  they were relatively small, compact places, so I find it amazing that I am now being recognised by random people here in the metropolis.

Say that a guy catches his girlfriend cheating on him. She screws their relationship up so badly that he’s on the verge of dumping her. What does she do but give him the most almighty blowjob she can, in the desperate hope that he’ll forget the entire incident. She hopes that the ultimately superficial, meaningless gesture will distract him so well that the whole thing will blow over.

Now say that the head of a government is caught lying to the people he governs: he is caught blatantly breaking the rules his government itself put in place to ensure everyone’s safety, and then lying about it. People are so angry about it that most want him removed from office. What does he do but announce a glitzy new policy costing millions, purporting to address the needs of those who he says have been neglected? Called, say, ”Levelling Up”, it sounds wonderful, noble and fair: it’s sneakily designed to appeal to those who feel disenfranchised while drawing attention away from the current scandal, while in reality merely partially undoing the cuts to the state his own party had put in place over the last decade. In both cases we see vapid, meaningless gestures designed to feel good and distract people, while failing to undo the damage which has been done.

Johnson and the Tories are just trying to suck our cultural cocks – don’t let them.

In May 2020, Lyn’s death was still fresh and raw in my mind. She had passed away just the month before, and I knew that she was the type of person who could never be replaced. Before she died, I’d gone to visit her in hospital: I will never forget the sight of her unconscious in a hospital bed, hooked up to a respirator. She had a tumour which had been growing for months. Of course, I didn’t stay there long: this was the height of the first wave of the pandemic, and I didn’t want to put anyone at risk, least of all my friend. I assumed I would be going back to see her again before long, or perhaps when she returned home, but Lyn died a few days later.

We now know that that was when Johnson and his friends were having parties in the garden at Downing Street. Just when I and so many others were going through the most horrific of times, they were behaving as if the pandemic was something which happened to others; sipping wine and laughing while the rest of us mourned lost friends. Perhaps I shouldn’t make such matters personal, but I can’t help noticing the coincidence: my best friend was dying and I didn’t dare visit her, but they were partying on patios, as if it was their birthright and that they were above the suffering everyone else had to go through.

Knowing what we know now makes my blood boil with rage. Those were the darkest of times for so many, and the Tories didn’t give a fuck. And now, watching them all try to defend their leader, spouting lie after lie, insisting that it is perfectly ok for him to make a mockery of the rest of our suffering, pain and grief, is an insult I can and will never forgive.

Yesterday I came across a tidbit of information which made me slightly puzzled. In France, certain university courses, at least Master’s courses, are taught in English rather than French. That is, English is used in Master’s physics classes in Paris rather than French. I’m not sure yet how widespread this is, but it struck me as very odd: The English language has become so widespread and commonplace that it is now being used in our neighbour’s institutions. If I was French, I think I would probably find that quite galling: I know how proud the French can be of their language and culture; to see it slowly being taken over by your old adversary, so that their language rather than yours was being used to access academic courses, would be quite upsetting. Can you imagine the uproar if the reverse happened here? Of course, there will be several reasons for this, not least the ubiquity of American English and it’s use in academic and scientific papers, but nonetheless, to see one language rise over all others like this is pretty weird.

Today I just want to express my sorrow at the sad death of Barry Cryer. He was one of a generation of comedians who made British comedy truly great. Although I must admit it has been a while since I listened to it, I love radio shows like Just A Minute and I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue: Cryer was one of the voices who made such programs so funny, and so remarkable. In that spirit, I want to close this entry by starting a game:

London Bridge.

I received some very good personal/friend news earlier today which I have been asked not to tell everyone about yet, so let me just say that it has been a great, joyful day, and that this evening finds me in the mood for a party… I mean socially distanced work meeting.

Having just watched Prime Minister”s Questions, I seriously believe that it’s now very clear that the UK has no government but a bunch of lying, self-serving disgraces to human civilisation categorically unfit to rule. The Tories shouldn’t just leave office but the party should be disbanded. The Conservative party has it’s origins over two centuries ago as an organisation dedicated to keeping power and wealth in the hands of a rich, landed few. To this day, that remains it’s sole aim, and it’s now clear that they will do anything, including blatantly deceive the entire country, to achieve it. This lunchtime, we saw the party rush to the man they call our Prime Minister, a known liar and charlatan, spouting blatant untruths in an effort to absolve him of responsibility for breaking the law. The only thing coming from Johnson should have been a grovelling apology and resignation; any other bullshit he spouted was an insult. This is a group of people which believes they are born to rule and thus are above the rule; they think they have a right to party while the rest of us mourn. They thus treat the rest of us with utter, utter contempt, and to a man are fit only to collect rubbish, not govern the country.

The United Kingdom deserves better than to be governed by this bunch of entitled, selfish, disgraceful scumbags. The Tories must go.

I rewatched Don’t Look Up yesterday afternoon, having watched it the first time over Christmas with my parents. It’s a very interesting Netflix film which seems to be splitting opinions. On the whole, Don’t Look Up struck me as quite a delicious satire, but I couldn’t help thinking that in reality the ESA would have blown the comet out of thee sky months before the yanks even spotted it! That is to say, it is a very Americano-centric film, where Americans are the chief players in a global crisis, and the rest of the world is completely forgotten about. Americans are the ones who first spot the impending doom and attempt (and fail) to find a solution to it, and the rest of us barely get a cameo. Of course, you can say that of any film like this (Deep Impact etc), but last night it really jarred.

Naturally, this film is supposed to be more American social satire than straight science fiction, so I suppose that focus is to be expected; but the way the film ignored the rest of humanity nonetheless grated. On the other hand, the film does what it sets out to do quite perfectly: as a comment on contemporary American culture, I don’t think you can get better. It is a delicious pastiche of Trumpism, american consumerism, and the control that a few rich white Americans have over the whole country. It is a commentary on American mainstream media, and their education system. It’s a witty, intelligent film; a comment on how, even when faced with unambiguous impending doom, some Americans still refuse to believe the reality in front of them. As a social commentary, it is great; I just wish it didn’t frame itself like America was the entire world. After all, while the whole satirical point of the film may be that it is the American desire to make money which ultimately causes the end of the world, that assumes viewers forgot that there are other cultures in the world, less focussed on capitalism and more focussed on securing our future.

If I can just put my James Bond fan hat on, I just came across this treat on Youtube. It’s a 45 minute retrospective of Daniel Craig’s tenure as 007, going through his five films. As it explains, the impact Craig has had on the franchise has been massive. He brought so much humanity and pathos to the character, while still being the cold, violent spy Ian Fleming created. Like many fans, I think Craig is my favourite actor to play the role. The Ironic thing is, when he was first cast in the role, he was lampooned in the press for being blonde, and everyone expected him to be a failure. To think that Craig then went on to be such a fantastic success is what makes this story so great.

The question now is, where does the franchise go from here? As the program details, over the past five films and fifteen years, Craig’s Bond has become a cultural icon: by and large, his films have been huge critical hits, and who can forget that this was the 007 who escorted the queen to the olympics – a cultural moment which must surely rank as one of the greatest in history. How can that possibly be followed? How can any actor follow Craig? Whoever the producer choose, I would hate to be in their shoes.

But then, they said that after Brosnan. I’m now very interested indeed in how Barbara Broccoli and Michael Wilson deal with this issue. Whoever they cast, it’s sure to come under a lot of scrutiny; but my hunch is, they’ll take a totally new tack. Craig played Bond so straight, so brutally, that the only way forward is to completely change the tone. As others are saying too, they’ll cast a lighter, more comic Bond – anything else will risk comparisons with hiss predecessor. Of course, the danger with that is, go too far down that route and it risks not being James Bond any more; stray too far and their choice will certainly be panned. Thus, largely thanks to the success of Daniel Craig, Bond’s producers are in quite a predicament: I can’t wait to see how they get out of it.