After all that huffing and puffing this morning, I suddenly feel much better. I just saw this story. After months of speculation among fans, Daniel Craig has confirmed he will play James Bond for the fifth time. 007 fanboy that I am, that has made my day; I’m still hoping he’ll at least equal Connery and Moore’s seven. He is the greatest bond — the character as his creator intended, to whom nobody does it better. And who could forget Craig’s appearance in the most awesome Bond moment of them all?

My anger issues are currently worse than ever. In fact they are getting frightening. Whenever I read the politics news or go on a Facebook page and see something I disagree with, I just erupt into a white hot fury. It’s usually something to do with trump or brexit. Every morning I read of another stupidity which makes my blood boil: either Trump has said something, or Farage has wound me up with his arrogance. I know I can’t do anything about it, so then I go on to a Facebook forum to vent my anger, but the responses I get only make matters worse. I get so angry that, for a few moments, I cannot control my body; I shake with rage, wanting with all my heart to tear the subject of my anger apart. It is truly frightening.

I know it’s related to my cerebral palsy: the damage to my brain also affected the system which regulates emotions. I also note that they pass pretty quickly. As I said on Monday however, the problem is, everyone else is getting furious too, and they don’t have my excuse. In the uk, one side is angry at the other for voting to completely screw the country, and the other side are getting increasingly defensive about their ‘victory’. In america, tensions are reaching fever pitch, stirred up by the moron they currently call their president. I now see the intense anger I feel in the eyes of others, only with them it does not go away after a few seconds: the fury stays and builds. If they do indeed feel the uncontrollable fury I feel, then this is a situation we should all be very, very worried about. That is a degree of rage nobody should feel, yet stirred up by fools like trump and farage, emotions are getting so intense that I now fear where this will all lead.

Sorry but I just have to send you here today. I just came across an article entitled ‘Why Liberals are Wrong about Trump’. That sort of thing usually really gets me going, but I thought I’d give it the benefit of the doubt and read it. I clicked on the link, and what I found was awesome.

Scone, anyone?

I think I ought to flag this up. It’s a bbc program I caught the end of last night and just rewatched. It discusses the impact technology has had on politics, particularly how platforms like Facebook are being used to target voters with increasing accuracy. I hadn’t realised that Facebook had played such a major role in the election of Trump. I’d like to point out, though, that I fear that the use of social media has contributed to the alarming amount of anger in politics there is at the moment. Everyone is getting so angry – not just me. Both the uk and america are now utterly divided, each side hating the other. We saw this sickeningly demonstrated in Virginia yesterday.

The situation is highly volatile, emotional and dangerous. I can’t help but suspect that such online targeted campaigning, as well as increased interaction between people, helped bring this situation about. Online, where it is confined to harmless name-calling, people are becoming increasingly aggressive. You can’t get arrested for assault for writing a nasty facebook post. That has lowered people’s self-restraint. The problem is, that anger and aggression now seems to be spilling over into the real world.

Something very, very strange is happening with my new computer. I got it on friday, after my old one started blanking out on me. It was second hand, but seemed okay. I had just about configured it to how I like, when turning it on yesterday, I found the keyboard had switched spontaneously from qwerty to fou mode. I couldn’t use it like that, and we couldn’t find a way to switch it back. We tried all day, and by the end of the day I was feeling rather frustrated. The strange part is, as you can probably tell, I just turned it on to find it back to normal working perfectly. I am befuddled I must say, but relieved: at least I can type properly again.

I just hope it doesn’t just suddenly switch back.

I was feeling quite dismissive of this video when I first saw it, but the ending is, frankly, truly beautiful. A nauseating kids film suddenly became quite profound, and worth linking to.

I just got in from a good long walk. Today I decided to do some exploring up Shooters Hill behind Woolwich. I find the mix of cultures around there rather fascinating: Asian mixes with African, Victorian/Edwardian mixes with modern in a way I find utterly captivating. I was just following my nose, checking out the lay of the land near the old military academy, when, going down a road I hadn’t been down before, I stumbled onto a view which took my breath away. This view made my jaw drop. Google Streetview doesn’t really do it justice, but I must have been able to see for miles from there: all of London lay before me, northward into the distance, perhaps even to the fields beyond. It was staggering, and reminded me why I go out exploring. I found several views like that in that area; here is another. I’ll definitely be taking L up there to show her soon. Finding views like that only makes me love this city even more.

Today has turned out to be quite special. Shortly after posting this morning’s entry, charlie contacted me over facebook. I had been supposed to meet up with her and her siblings last night up in north London, but decided not to go in the end. She asked me to meet them for brunch in Shoreditch instead. I thought for a moment or two, and decided to go: Shoreditch didn’t look too hard to get to on the map.

On my way there, something very special indeed happened. I got a message from Mark containing a single image and the words ”guess where we are”. I guessed in an instant: the picture was of my dad and Oliver. My little nephew was sat on a rusty old tractor; the very tractor at Amerton Farm I remember sitting on as a young child, and which had brought me endless joy. It was an incredible image which brought a tear to my eye. I was quite lost for words, but simply replied ”Oh my”.

My meeting with Charlotte, Poppy, William and friends went well. They’re their usual hyperactive selves, whizzing up and down the country, teaching, partying and gigging. It was wonderful to see them, and we had a good long brunch. It’s will’s birthday too today, so cake was involved. Yet all the while I thought about that photo of Oliver on that tractor, of how it echoed my own childhood, how it brought back memories of my own childhood with the most loving parents anyone could ever hope for, who would now give that love to their grandchildren. And in that moment, sat there, among my friends, I suddenly felt utterly content. How could life get more perfect?

Mark and his family are at my parents’ for his birthday. They got there on wednesday, and I expect they’re having a great time. Oliver and Elise are probably being spoiled rotten by their grandparents. It’s been ages since I saw them – I don’t think I’ve even met little Elise yet – and frankly I really need to catch up with them. Thus today I’ll just wish my brother mark a happy birthday. I’m sure they’ll have a great time at yeaya and bappou’s, and I’ll see them all on skype later.

Not that I have ever been much of a gamer, but I think I’ll flag this up today. So called eSports are being considered for inclusion in the olympics, possibly at Paris 2024. Of course, the debate rages about whether playing computer games qualifies as sport: on the one hand, it doesn’t require much physical activity or training; on the other hand, the field has become far more intensive and serious in recent times. Competitive gaming is serious business; as I wrote here, as an art form it is starting to come alongside others in terms of how political it is. It is no longer seen as just something kids do in their bedrooms, or as a way to fill time when one should be doing something more productive – that’s a change in status which I find quite interesting.

Let me get this straight: on the one hand we have a country lead by a nutter who thinks it is his birthright to rrule. He’s a spoiled overprivileged dictator who demands his people worship him as a god. On the other hand, we have a superpower which, while ostensibly a democracy, is currently lead by an egotistical man-child who seems equally unhinged and likely to act without thinking. Both states are lead by children, yet one loathes the other, and both seem now to have nuclear weapons. Forgive my pessimism, but it seems that the world is in a very dangerous place right now. We might not be able to do anything about north korea, but surely the americans must act and replace Trump with someone less likely to bring about armageddon.

I was very worried to hear about the memo at google yesterday. I just read that it’s author has now been fired, but the fact he wrote it at all is a symptom of a very dark, worrying trend. There now seems to be a growing backlash against liberal, tolerant values, both here and in america. People seem to think it’s cool to speak out against political correctness and tolerance. The vogue is to say it’s some kind of mind control, as if to be racist or sexist is to speak some sort of repressed truth. Of course that is utter bollocks: no truth is being repressed; political correctness exists to ensure people are treated fairly, irrespective of gender or ethnicity. But spurred on by bigots like Farage and Trump, certain people now think it’s cool to be racist and sexist, claiming to be repressed by the mainstream. It’s as if these straight white male morons want to reclaim the social advantages they had fifty years ago, and still think they are entitled to. They think that seeing these bigots on tv gives them a right to be bigots in public; they no longer need to think things through like the rest of us, but can give voice to their simplistic, arrogant and judgemental views. It’s an extremely worrying, but growing, trend; far right bigotry is gaining confidence – surely it must be dealt with before it gets out of hand.

I am, by and large, something of a fan of London public transport. It’s far from perfect, of course; nowhere near enough tube stations are accessible, for one. But having come from a place where it was a real bitch to get anywhere unless you could drive, I know how much worse it could be. I really like the Clipper Boat service along the Thames, and the cable cars between North Greenwich and the Excel Centre is also very cool. However, if you ask me, it could really do with one final component.

While on my way to Kilburn yesterday, I decided that what this city needs is a helicopter transport service. It could either be run as a taxi service, where you would book a chopper to take you somewhere, or as a bus service, where helicopters would fly along fixed routes, landing at scheduled stops. I think the latter format would be better as it would be more efficient. I think it’s a great idea: it would certainly speed up getting across this vast city, and as I wrote here, helicopters are probably my favourite mode of transport.

Of course, this idea isn’t without it’s problems: helipads would have to be built; we’d have to sort out which routes they would take (it would probably just be for long distance, cross-city trips). And how would it be payed for? I doubt the Oyster card system could be used. And of course, special helicopters would need to be created, capable of getting lots of people on and off quickly, including wheelchair users. Yet the fact remains that it often takes hours to get anywhere in this city, and with the population rising that’s only going to get worse. The tube system is a century old in places, and is almost at breaking point. The metropolis is expanding rapidly, and the tube only really serves the central few boroughs. With that in mind, is this idea as silly as it might at first seem? Rather than digging more tunnels or laying more track, wouldn’t it be easier just to let people fly around London? While some may point out that such a system would cost a fortune, London is growing at such a pace and is becoming so congested that I can conceive of a time, in the not too distant future, when such an addition to the public transport system could make sound economic sense.

I went to see my aunt, uncle and cousins this afternoon. They are currently staying with my yaiya up in north London. It was a long overdue visit to be honest, but London is so vast that getting across the city sometimes seems like trying to cross a vast mountain chain or ocean. Yet circumstances made it imperative that I visit, and it was truly great to see them. Sitting at the same kitchen table that I have sat at since I was small, being fed all kinds of delicious food, I felt warm and comfortable inside. It was the feeling one gets when catching up with members of your family that you haven’t seen in quite some time, as if returning home after a long expedition in the wilderness. The problem is, I don’t know when I will see them again, especially my uncle David. Everyone’s so busy these days it’s hard to keep track. I suppose there’s only one solution: I must start making plans to visit them in Brazil.

I sometimes worry about the lack of comments on my blog. I post an entry every day yet seldom get a response, so apart from the hitcount going up, I have no way of telling whether anyone is reading what I write. However, I was just in the park enjoying my daily burst of caffeine, when a lady I sometimes talk to came up to me. She told me that she had been reading my site, and thoroughly agreed with my recent entries on Trump and Brexit. Hearing that made my day: it is so gratifying to know that people like what I write on here. I felt humbled and proud. This blog is a hobby, but it’s one I’ve kept up for over a decade; such comments are all I need to keep it going. Mind you, if anyone feels like leaving a comment below, please feel free to do so.

While part of me worries that I’m being too optimistic or just reading sources favourable to my point of view, it now really looks like the days of both Brexit and Trump are numbered. It’s only a matter of time before the stupidity of last year is put right. With Brexit, day after day evidence mounts of the damage it’s doing, it’s irrationality. I may just be reading what I want to read, but it now seems only a matter of time before the whole moronic farce is forgotten about. It’s a similar story with trump: surely his impeachment is now imminent. Evidence of his links with Russia is now impossible to deny; the fact that he continues to do so, portraying himself as the victim of some sort of conspiracy, is utterly laughable.

Dare I let myself believe that both farces will soon come to an end. Part of me doesn’t want to believe it; part of me says it’s too good to be true, and that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. Yet every day the evidence mounts: another report comes out, another poll is issued, saying that sooner rather than later both these stupidities will be undone. I’m feeling more optimistic now than I have felt in months. This isn’t just opinion or bias but cold hard facts which neither trumpists or outists can deny:

on both counts they have been found wanting, and both their neofascist games will soon be up. Wouldn’t it be cool if trump was removed from office and brexit reversed on the same day? I’m starting to think that that day might not be too far off.

It might be a couple of years old, but having just stumbled onto it I think this Tolkien Society discussion of Peter Jackson’s adaptations is worth flagging up. I expected them to be very negative about the films, but I was pleasantly surprised, and found myself agreeing with much of what is said. Of course the film’s aren’t perfect adaptations of the books, and there are points at which Jackson took considerable liberties with the source material, but in terms of legacy, in terms of bringing people to Tolkien and getting people reading him, they have done wonders. I would add, too, that these adaptations are probably as good as they were ever going to be; just think how awful they could have been if, say, Disney had decided to turn it into one of their saccharine children’s cartoons. No film adaptation is ever going to be a word-for-word replica of a book: they are two different art forms, different languages. To a considerable degree, the films were Jacksons interpretation of Tolkien. At the same time, as the society concludes, the films were pretty incredible, a great tribute to the author, and will probably have people reading him for years.

Before he was elected, Donald trump rose to prominence by playing a role: that of the stern business executive who had to fire people every week. He might have claimed to have a business background, but that role was as much a fiction as any other. Trump is thus more of an actor than a businessman, intent on nursing his ego. After all, what real business executive would waste his time on a reality tv show? Trump was performing then, and is still performing. Look at him: he speaks in clipped soundbytes like a president in an action film; he swaggers as if he has gravitas, clearly thinking that if he acts like a president, people will respect him. The guy seems not to realise that there’s a hell of a lot more to running a superpower than that. Even more absurdly, the American electorate, in it’s turn, didn’t realise that it needed to vote for a proper politician capable of leading a country rather than a tv personality with a strong-sounding catchphrase.

America needs a proper politician to lead it, not some overgrown child playing a game, a role which he seems somehow to have mistaken for reality. It’s as if Trump doesn’t even realise he was employed to perform in The Apprentice, yet has clearly internalised and continued in that role, mistaking being cast in a role of authority for real authority. To me, that lack of understanding, that confusion between fiction and reality, hints at some kind of neurological disorder. Indeed, as discussed here, Trump seems to have profound ego issues; he is an extremely insecure individual. Might that mean that, deep down in his unconscious, he knows he has no place being where he currently finds himself and is in way, way over his head?

Just as an update on an issue I’m still rather interested in, it now looks like the host city for the 2024 and 2028 olympics are a done deal. Los Angeles has agreed to stand by and let Paris host the 2024 games, while it will host the 2028 games. This is the first time two hosts have been announced at once. If you ask me, this is rather cool: an olympics in paris in 2024 is what I wanted to see. It feels only fair, after the french faced so much disappointment, especially in 2005. Plus we get an American olympics to look forward to too, which is sure to be spectacular, assuming that current joke of a nation has it’s affairs in order by then. For now, though, I’m looking forward to seeing what the french do, how they go about preparing the city of love and light for the world’s greatest fiesta, and especially to watching their opening ceremony.

Mind you, this sets a precedent for announcing two host cities at once, which might have implications for the future. It might really change how olympic host cities are awarded. Several might now be found at once. That could effect a future olympics in the UK. If you ask me, it’s already time to start thinking about that. I would still love to see an olympic games in Manchester in 2032, and now might be the time to get the campaign for that going.

I think it quite essential that I flag this video up, in which Patrick Stewart eloquently explains why the vote to leave the EU must be overturned. Thus my favourite actor sides with me on an issue I care passionately about, more than ever after last week. The sadness in Sir Patrick’s voice echoes my own. We need people like him to convince as many people as possible that this country must alter course from the path it started down last year. As he says, ”It’s only in unity that we can be safe, secure and, I also believe, prosperous.”

After telling him about trying it in Poland, our PA Mitchell came in with a lovely surprise today and made Zapikanka for breakfast. It was delicious: granted, we had to make do with a baguette from Co Op rather than the authentic Polish bread (which was quite specific), but the way Mitch made it, adding tomato puree, mushrooms and other nice tasty stuff, sent me right back to that square in Krakow. In fact I think I have a new favourite breakfast, and will definitely be asking mitch to make it again.

Lyn and I are back from Poland, having got in quite late last night. It was a fantastic trip: Poland is a wonderful, intriguing country; it’s people warm and welcoming. I think taking Lyn’s powerchair was a great idea: it caused no problems, and she revelled in the ability to go wherever she wanted. I really want to take my powerchair too next time, as there were times when being in my manual chair sucked. Nevertheless, I had a great trip. As usual, it only served to deepen my love of travel. I’ll never forget watching the guys jam under the stars in Sokołowsko, or the beauty of Krakow with it’s winding narrow streets and magnificent squares. Of course, being here, back at home now it’s all over, feels rather sad, but we’re already planning our next trip.

We fly home in a few hours. It has been, without a doubt, an outstanding holiday. Poland is a wonderful place: it’s people have been incredibly welcoming; it’s natural beauty, utterly captivating. To have seen the place where our personal assistants – our friends- hail from has been awesome. Wroclaw was great; the festival in Sokołowsko was something I’ll probably always remember; and I think, even after only two days, that I’ve fallen in love with Krakow, with it’s music, architecture and sense of history seeping out of every brick and paving slab. Yet all good things must come to an end, and as lyn and I prepare to head home, we’re already making plans to return Soon, possibly next year. It has been an outstanding trip, and as ever it will be sad to return home, but life must return to normal. We both have things to do back in London, but there will always be our next trip to start planning.

Last night we Sampled traditional Polish street food, Zapiekanka in krakow’s new square. It was a kind of long, open grilled sandwich, topped with whatever one liked. You could choose from all kinds of toppings, and john told me each place in the square had it’s own slightly different way of making it. The thing was, he explained, the delicacy is dying out, losing its place to increasingly ubiquitous American fast food. That struck me as a great, great shame; you hear the same sad story all over the place. As much of a fan as I am of fostering a global community, at the same time I firmly believe each culture must hold on to what makes it unique. This is a fascinating little city, it’s narrow winding streets and medieval squares unlike anywhere I’ve been before. To see that character lost or enveloped, by any small degree, to the growing world norm, would be a great shame.

Sat opposite me as we finally ride in the train to Krakow, is probably the strongest woman I’ll ever meet. We were up and out quite early this morning; it’s surprising how efficient we can be when we need to get a move on. Yet lyn and I are still both fairly sleepy, and in need of a decent cup of coffee.

Lyn still amazes me with her determination and love of life. She says she just gets on with it, and I know what she means. Yet, at the same time, it takes a huge amount of determination just to be who she is. People like lyn put two fingers up to the worlds rules and illustrate the beautiful diversity of humanity.

Thus, on holiday or not, I must say how appalled I am at the way Donald Trump has chosen to pick on trans people. It’s blatantly obvious, of course, that he wants to distract attention from his other problems. That he would do so by victimising a minority like the trans community is, however, beyond contempt. Dress it up as he will, banning transgender people from the American military is an act of pure, blatant discrimination. Trans people should be allowed to contribute to society in whatever way they wish. For the insult to humanity currently claiming to be American president to pick on them in this way, purely for his own petty political gain, only deepens my contempt for him even further.

Yesterday we went for a short drive in the Polish countryside. One of the women organising the festival took us. We just went to her village and back, but it was enough for me to get an idea of how different Poland is to England. For one, there are vast deep forests of a kind rarely seen in Britain. They had a fascinating, ancient feel to them. The houses we passed were beguiling too, like time worn fragments of another era which modern life had yet to touch.

We were supposed to be moving on today. The plan was to get up early and catch the bus. I therefore went to bed at a sensible time, but Lyn and the lads decided to stay out. They came back just after six this morning, me wondering where the smeg they had got to, obviously in no state to go anywhere. We are therefore staying in Sokołowsko another day and moving on tomorrow. It’s such a pretty place with such a fantastic vibe one cannot complain. I might even get to see those intriguing forests again.

This festival is increasingly reminding me of university. It’s a contemporary arts festival, so one senses the same playful exploration I found back on campus. A lot of the work here is higher intellectual, highly postmodern. As well as music and sound based work, there are installations, projections and performance pieces. There was also an odd piece about secrets which I’m not allowed to discuss. Perhaps most illuminating, though, was a discussion we went to on censorship; it has certainly been eye opening to see how much control the state still has here. They were debating a controversy caused by a photo of a woman swearing in front of a government building which government officials now seek to censor. In all, though, it has been wonderful to see an entire village given over to such an event. I hope Sokolovsko serves as an example to other places the world over, for alongside the art and music I have also felt the warmest of welcomes.

I’m afraid I don’t have the time or the battery power to give this the description it deserves, but last night was magical. After all the events are over, everyone convenes in a small woody area outside a fantastic building with a tall spire. There, last night, Lyn did a monumental dj set. She started about midnight and played and played for hours. Watching everyone dancing to her beats was wonderful: she has a knack of knowing which tracks go together. It went on for hours, and she finished just before dawn with What A Wonderful World. And with that she was absolutely spot on.

Sitting in a circle on the cusp of midnight, in the dark of a polish wood, last night Lyn and the guys did some jamming. It was incredible. L was using her iPad, of course, but there were people with all kinds of instruments there, especially drums. The rhythms they produced seemed to weave into my very heart beat; and, looking up, I could see the stars so clearly that it took my breath. The only other time I had seen a sky like that, the stars vivid and sharp, was at Uluru. I found myself wishing that I could join in, to enter into that magical moment with the other players, but I realised that, rather than joining in, it was my job to record the moment on here, for all time, so that something so special is not allowed to slip out of memory.

Today finds us in Sokołowsko, a tiny polish village up in the mountains. We were dropped off by taxi here at about noon. It’s a quiet little place where every year a huge festival is held. I couldn’t help musing that it would be a bit like Alsager deciding to hold an international arts festival. I’m told that, a few years ago, two of dominik’s friends sold their property in Warsaw and decided to establish it from scratch. It’s now doing really well, going from strength to strength; there certainly seems to be a lot of preparations going on. The place is abuzz with people, and we have so much to explore. Time, then, to get settled and then head out: I have a feeling we have quite a fascinating few days ahead of us.

Yesterday was a wonderful day spent getting to know Wroclaw. It’s a beautiful place of quaint, winding streets and beautiful buildings. I was pushed in my manual chair while Lyn was in her powerchair, and to be honest there were points when I regretted my choice. As per our plan, we met up with Dom’s family, and spent the day walking around the city with them. This really is a fascinating place of rivers weaving around islands , it’s very bricks and cobbles seemingly evoking this areas vibrant and dramatic history. Medieval abuts communist abuts modern like nowhere I’ve ever been before.

The problem was, I wished I could move under my own steam – there was socialising and exploring to do, after all. Lyn’s powerchair had been transported by the airline without a problem, and I began to think I had been over cautious. That is not to say that there hadn’t been problems or points when one powerchair had been plenty to cope with. Yet with lyn dashing ahead going wherever in the town she wished, I promised myself that, for our next trip, I’d definitely look into taking my powerchair. I couldn’t feel too down about it, though: the town was too beautiful and our company too interesting for that.

What’s next? What is there left to see or do? What event could come close to the awesomeness of watching python, meeting Patrick Stewart or seeing lyn play before the world? Yet such moments only lit the fuse; they were just a beginning. They set the standard for life; a high water mark of how truly awesome things can get. Sat here in this plush new hostel room, at the dawn of another adventure, I have a feeling things are about to get awesome yet again. What will happen? What is there yet to be seen? Based on what has already happened, the possibilities are absolutely endless. It is that curnel of anticipation that sets my heart beating; knowing that things have a potential to be incredible because I have incredible things to look back upon. Through the window a bright new city beckons. Adventure awaits.

In a few hours, Lyn and I set off to Stanstead to fly to Poland. It’s not a holiday per se: L has been invited to perform at a festival there. It should be quite a trip: Lyn has chosen to take her powerchair, and I will be interested to see how well it goes on and off the plane. If all goes well, this could be the first of many trips with our powerchairs. After all, one of the downsides to trips abroad has always been having to be pushed around by your PA. I chose to leave mine at home, just to keep things simple; but if things go well, I will join Lyn in my powerchair on future trips. We have an interesting few days ahead, then; expect plenty of blogging from central Europe soon.

I just came across this story linked to from facebook. A security robot in the states has apparently killed itself by falling into a pool of water. It was one of these little droids which goes around scanning the place, but that’s not the detail I’m interested in. I want to know what it’s name was – was it Marvin, by any chance?

I cannot claim to be a Dr Who fan by any stretch of the imagination. Frankly, it strikes me as a kids program. But I find the announcement that the next doctor is to be played by a woman, Jodie Whittaker, really rather interesting. The beeb obviously want to take the show in a new direction: by diverging from what has been a norm for over fifty years, they are clearly making a statement. I suppose the Doctor is one of those characters, like James Bond, who acts as a kind of cultural cornerstone: something we can rely on, and know to be in the cultural agenda, even if we aren’t particularly fussed to watch it.

Now, if the producers of Bond decided to take such a turn, the fans would be up in arms. Bond, when you look at him, is quite a rigid character: white, heterosexual and male, as described by Ian Fleming. You can’t really deviate from that. Yet the Doctor has no such original; he’s also a supernatural timelord, capable of regeneration. That means he can be played with. Whether fans will accept such a deviation, though, remains to be seen. While the producers are trying something new, they are breaking from decades of tradition. Who fans could be as stubborn as Bond fans, and demand that the character still adhere to the ‘norm’. I suppose it all depends on how well Whittaker performs: if she does well and brings something new to the show, this could turn out to be a great move. It will be quite fascinating to see how this plays out – I might even watch it to see how she does.

I know it’s silly – how can a solitary house function as it’s own state, for one? – but I really like things like this. ”Retired academic William Riches has declared his Severnside home an independent Republic in protest against the Brexit vote. The 77-year-old former university lecturer has made wife Judith President and given his children and grandchildren citizenship so they do not need a passport to cross the threshold of his home.” Even in times like these, you can still depend on a bit of British eccentricity. Mind you, it goes to show how much and how passionate the opposition to Brexit still is. My only worry would be if a bunch of outist thugs – you know the type: skinheads who think every word Farage utters is gospel – get pissed out of their tiny brains one night and decide to go and ”invade”. I, on the other hand, fully support the project, and proudly recognise the republic of Middlewatch.

I love the little surprises this city can throw at you from time to time. This afternoon, it being overcast and feeling decidedly ”meh”, I took a walk to Woolwich. Crossing the road to the old arsenal, I thought I’d trundle eastwards along the river for a bit. I had never been that way before, and wanted to see where the path lead. I was in for a surprise: I found a newly opened park I didn’t know existed. Gallions hill is a huge symmetrical mound with a path spiralling up to it’s summit. It is well kept in terms of planting, but the view from the summit was what took my breath – you could see for miles across London. The place intrigued me: I wondered whether it was an old hill fort or something – it would certainly have been in a good position for one. As I drove home, patches of blue sky starting to break through the clouds, I promised myself I would go there again soon, hopefully with Lyn. After all, such a spot is an excellent place for two lovers to find a bit of privacy, as the lights of the city twinkle before them.

Is Brexit in it’s death-throes, or am I being overly optimistic? Everywhere I look these days, I see signs that the country is starting to step back from the brink: report after report is saying what a negative effect brexit is having; and I get the strong impression that, behind the scenes, the government is desperately trying to look for a way out of it. But could that just be wishful thinking on my part? Am I simply reading what I want to read in papers like the Guardian, and ignoring papers which say everything is going swimmingly, dismissing them as being biassed?

I’m not sure. For one, I’m sensing an increasing tone of desperation in Brexiteers. They seem to be starting to play the blame game, casting the leaders of the EU as the bad guys for not giving us what we want. They also try to blame other factors. We can read into this an admittance they would never speak openly, that things aren’t going their way. I saw a clip of Farage on his radio show earlier, trying to make it sound like it was all europes fault, maintaining the utter delusion that they need us more than we need them. As it becomes ever more clear that they don’t, and that we were fools ever to listen to scumbags like farage, the gibberish they spew will become more and more desperate. They’ve already started the blame game, or threatening some kind of civil disturbance if brexit isn’t carried out – what stronger sign could there be that brexit is indeed proving to be a catastrophe, that the signs I’m seeing are accurate, and that it would be best to put an end to the project before it goes any further.

I think I ought to clarify something, just in case anyone was wondering. I was at a film fest meeting last night, and gavin asked me about it when I showed him my blog entry about meeting danny Boyle. He saw the line under my blog title, and asked who Clippity Clops was.

That is a reference to a ruler my brother had when he was at school. It memory serves, it came out of an old cereal packet and was decorated with all the characters associated with Coco Pops, one of whom was Clippity Clops. Mark and his school mates thus called the ruler Clippity Clops.

The story goes that, on one occasion, the joke starting to wear on a bit, one of mark’s classmates asked to borrow the ruler, using it’s nickname. Mark was rather fed up of people asking for it and replied with sarcasm ”Clippity Clops says Fuck off!” When M told me this story, it got me creased up with laughter immediately: the way he said it was filled with venom and sarcasm, and it tickled me so much that I chose to use the line on my blog, which we were just setting up at the time. That’s why you sometimes see that line on entries here. It’s an old, old joke and maybe I should change it. Then again, I still find it rather funny, and it reminds me of my brothers, so perhaps I’ll let it be.

I’m very pleased to report that last night was an utter triumph. It was the big screening of the Thousand Londoners films, over in the Greenwich Picturehouse. To be honest, never having been into the Picturehouse before, I didn’t quite know what to expect. Once there, though, I met Matt and my other friends from Lifeline. I was taken down to a private screening room in the basement, where about seven or eight of the Londoners films were shown to an audience of about thirty people. My film, Matt, was shown last, hopefully because the guys thought it would be a nice climactic point to finish at. Before that, though, some very, very powerful short films had been shown about people from all walks of life, together making up a snapshot of life in London.

After that came the question and answer session. Matt, myself and the other filmmakers went to the front of the room and answered questions from the audience. They seemed very impressed by what they had seen, and were keen to ask questions. I gave one or two answers, and left the rest to the others; but nonetheless I couldn’t help but feel very important. Was this what Steven Spielberg or Peter Jackson feel like? It was fascinating and thrilling, and above all filled me with a desire to do more.

This project gave me my first small taste of proper filmmaking. It is an artform I love. What happened last night filled me with confidence and enthusiasm, for it was just the start. It’s now time to move it forward and go on to even bigger things.