I must say I find this pure genius. I just came across it on Facebook. At first, I thought I was watching a genuine clip of Trump playing in a room full of children in front of the press – nothing abnormal for a politician. When he starts to play up more and more, refusing to get off his bouncing ball, I just burst out laughing. How did they make it? The actor on the ball looks so much like trump, but can’t be trump. At the same time, it is so in keeping with trump’s childish, infantile persona. It’s so great I just had to flag it up on here.

I’m now the proud owner of a volleyball. My film-making friend Matt gave one to me over coffee this afternoon. Just coming off a six week shoot, he explained that camerapeople put volleyballs under cameras so they get more control over them. They had christened it Wilson, obviously in reference to Cast Away, and it had functioned as a kind of lucky charm. Now that the shoot was over, Wilson was going free, so Matt thought I might to have it. I accepted it gratefully; I’d heard before of such tricks used on film sets, but I was fascinated to hear a first hand account. You hear that all kinds of semi-ritualistic things go on behind the camera, so it’s cool to be allowed a glimpse of that world.

For the record, I was not the person who hacked British airways, and nor did Lyn. We have enjoyed a lovely trip to Eltham to visit Marta. It’s been a splendid afternoon visiting a dear old friend, so we were both far too busy to commit any cybercrime. Sat out in her garden, catching up, exchanging news and gossip in a peaceful, pretty London suburb, the events of the world seemed miles away It had been ages since we had seen our former PA turned firm friend, so when L said she had invited us over for tea, I leapt at the chance. It turned out to be a perfect day, and a perfect alibi.

Today London threw me one of it’s nice little surprises. It’s obviously gorgeous out there – easily the nicest, hottest day of the year so far – so I decided to go for a drive along the river and up to the dome. Certain things are still playing on my mind from yesterday, and I needed to think them through. Once up there, I decided to hop on to the Emirates cable car, simply because it had been ages since I’d done so, and I want to get to know the north side of the river a bit more.

Once up there, I began to notice something odd: there were lots of people in all kinds of strange costumes about. I trundled over to the Excel Centre, where the oddlydressed people seemed to be conglomerating, and I suddenly realised I had stumbled upon some sort of huge convention.

I was instantly fascinated. I’m still very much into that kind of fan culture, but I still think I need to explore other forms of it: I still want to find other narratives, beyond those of mainstream film and television, to get into. I decided to pay the twenty quid to get in, and put my Walter Benjamin hat on.

What I found in there was incredible: all sorts of stalls and exhibits about all kinds of narratives and franchises, most of which I had never heard of. It struck me how varied it was: rather than being about one specific narrative, as in a Star Trek convention for example, all kinds of franchises and their corresponding fandoms were on show, particularly manga. Thus I got the impression that this event was more about a form of culture than one specific text. I found it intriguing as an outside observer, wandering in off the street, as it were.

I stayed for about an hour, then set off home. Ii really need to look up some of what I saw; I can see myself getting into that kind of outsider culture. London has done it again: it has shown me something fascinating I wasn’t even looking for. But for now, the sun still beating down, it’s time to head back out into the city.

Today was Communication Works 2017, and I think it’s fair to say that it has been quite a day. I got there nice and early, just as everyone was setting up their stalls. It was in a big sports hall, to one side of which were doors opening on to an area with a small shack. In there they were projecting short films, one of which was my Thousand Londoners film, as well as films by Post 16 students. Close by was a table with folders containing some of my writing. It was the manifestation of the exhibition idea I mentioned here, and I felt quite flattered to be featured so highly.

In the main hall were stalls exhibiting all sorts of the latest communications technology. It was incredibly interesting. I hadn’t been there long when my friend Matt arrived to help me film some of it. I’d had the idea of making a film on the event a few days ago; it seemed the best way for me to contribute. We spent a couple of hours getting footage of the stalls and exhibitors, as well as going in to some of the seminars. I think we now have the makings of an excellent film, which I’ll edit together soon.

Lyn popped in an hour or two into the event, and we had a fascinating time looking at everything. Mid-afternoon, the three of us popped out for a coffee; L and M stayed at the cafe, while I went back to see the event to it’s end. I just got home, rather tired and hot, but glad to have been, and excited what the communication world comes up with by next year.

Yesterday in the park we touched upon my liking for Bond, as we had just heard the sad news about Roger Moore. Chivon, who works at the cafe there, recommended an animated series called Archer. She said it was a bit of a Bond spoof, but it was very funny and she and her friends were into it in a big way. I just looked up the first episode on Youtube – I had to pay to watch it – and she was right. It isn’t a direct spoof of Bond in my opinion, but there are witty, knowing references. It is quite dirty, yet very clever indeed. I also find the style of animation very interesting indeed. When chivon said it was a cartoon, I was expecting something for children; archer definitely is not for kids, although not in the sense that South Park is a cartoon which isn’t for kids. I can certainly see myself getting into it. Before I comment on it much further, though, I better go watch more episodes.

Lyn and I just got in from a lovely long walk over to Greenwich. While out, though, I via my iPad learned of the sad death of Sir Roger Moore. I just want to note how sad I find this news: the opening of The Spy Who loved Me is one of my favourite pieces of film; and although I wasn’t especially taken with Moore’s Bond versus the others (see this entry), it is unarguably true that he helped make the series what it is. More to the point, today we have lost a fine actor and a great gentleman – a true legend. It seems only fitting that I direct you here, albeit with a heavy heart. Indeed, nobody did it better.

I think back to those moments when the curtain came down for the final time at the end of all the awesome gigs I’ve been to. There’s that feeling of elation at having been there; you feel so privileged, and vow to yourself never to forget it. It’s a special moment – I’m usually already trying to decide what to write on my blog. That’s what those guys in Manchester must have been feeling last night; wondering how best to get to the exit, and then the world suddenly becomes a chaos of screaming and panic.

How can anyone perform such an act? How can anyone intentionally cause such harm and distress on people so young? That’s what I don’t understand. They chose that very specific, unique moment after the gig had just come to an end, presumably to cause as much suffering as they could. Sometimes you simply have to despair at the depravity people are capable of.

Yesterday really was a lovely day. It felt like the first proper day of summer. After Lyn had opened her presents, we took a stroll down to the river. We’d arranged to meet the guys we usually see at the cafe at The Anchor and Hope, but they strangely never showed up. After an hour or so there, we walked along the Thames for a while, the sun beating down. Then we came back up through the various parks, beautiful in the sunshine, to Charlton Park.

The evening saw a real treat: a barbecue! Mitch had suggested it earlier in the day, and we agreed wholeheartedly. We sat out in the garden and listened too music while he grilled sausages and fish in the open air. The smell was wonderful.

Then something truly touching happened. We could hear kids playing next door; they were getting more and more boisterous, as I think they could smell the sausages. However, they then started to throw stones over, so Mitch went round to tell their mum as it was quite dangerous. The stone-throwing stopped shortly after, and we thought that was an end to it.

A short while later though, our neighbour came round with the two young boys – they were hardly more than five or six – to apologise. We were touched: we explained that it was no problem, just a bit dangerous given Lyn and I were sat out there in the sun. I then added that we were out there celebrating L’s birthday, and they wished her happy birthday.

After that we went in to eat. I had a huge plate of bangers and some of the most delicious mash I had ever eaten. It was so enormous I couldn’t eat it all. After that we went back out to enjoy the remaining sunshine, but it was then that our neighbours returned. The boys had quickly made birthday cards for Lyn. It was truly humbling, truly special – we were so touched. For our neighbour to have those boys create those cards at such short notice, so quickly, could not have been that easy. It was an incredible end to an amazing day, reminding me that there are still good people in the world who care about what happens in it.

Here’s wishing the most incredible woman in the world a very happy birthday once again. I can’t believe Lyn’s birthday has come around again so quickly – it doesn’t seem a year since i was last wishing her a happy birthday; but then, what an action-packed year it was. Lyn is quite pleased because she just got some more RAM for her mac, and I got some too! It’s looking like a lovely day, so we’ll probably head out soon in our chairs. I hope she has a fantastic day, as I hope Dad had a great day yesterday.

Lyn has recently started to use a great new music app on her Ipad. It’s called KRFT, and it is amazing what it allows her to do. She can make tracks at quite a staggering pace on it, and it also allows her to perform live much more easily. I found it quite amazing to watch her on it. Yesterday she and Paul made this video of her using it. We both now think it would be really good to organise a performance with it.

Last night certainly was an interesting one: cool, but not in a sense that that word usually applies to a gig. A couple of weeks ago, Lyn and I started to see flyers around the village for a Glenn Tillbrook concert over in Greenwich. Not recognising the name, I ignored them, but Lyn said she wanted to go, so we had a drive to Greenwich to get tickets. Thus I had no idea what to expect last night. Me being me, I scanned Tilllbrook’s Wikipedia page on the way over. Knowing Lyn, I knew we were in for some kind of rock gig, but other than that I had no idea what to expect.

As it turned out, I think it caught L by surprise too. After a delicious pizza, we made our way to the venue. It looked like a posh school hall, and indeed there were quite a few fairly young children in there. Nevertheless, we took our places. It started shortly after, not with music but with quite a crude comedian – one of those Roy Chubby Brown types, only slightly less blue. After a few fairly hit-and-miss jokes, he introduced Tillbrook himself, to sing a few songs. Then, to my increasing bemusement, some school kids came on to sing. It was then I realised that we had got tickets for a charity gig for a local primary school.

After that I settled down and began to get into it; normal standards and expectations did not apply. There was a gospel choir, Tillbrook doing a few duets with his son, and, in the second half, quite a cool blues band called Seven Below Zero, who I felt took the night up a notch.

It ended about eleven. Quite randomly, we bumped into Sharron in the foyer; I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks – she’d been busy canvassing, she explained – but it was a great surprise to see her, and we agreed to meet for coffee soon. On the bus home, I thought about the evening, and wondered what to write about it. It had been cool, but not like other gigs are cool. You can see all the mega-bands you like, I suppose, but sometimes, the quainter, more local gigs are the ones that stay in your memory.

My postal ballot should be arriving soon, but to be honest I am quite torn about how to use it. I can’t decide whether to vote Labour or Liberal Democrat: I like Corbyn and many of his leftist policies, especially how he intends to increase high rate tax in order to pay for badly needed public services; yet he remains dedicated to Brexit, something I’m vehemently against. The lib dems, on the other hand, propose a second referendum – a chance to turn away from the utter catastrophe we are currently hurtling towards. I also like their progressive, mature attitudes to things like cannabis. The problem is, if I vote Lib Dem, the opposition vote risks being split, resulting in a tory majority. I am therefore stuck: vote Labour, and while many socially oriented policies might be enacted, Brexit will become a certainty; vote lib dem and I risk either letting the tories win, or, at best, getting another Tory/lib dem coalition, and look what damage the last one did.

Truth be told, then, I have no idea who to vote for. Of course, not voting at all is not an option, especially this time. Yet either way the outlook looks bleak. Do I vote for a party who’s policies I believe in, who have a chance of winning, but who will secure our fate as an isolated little island; or do I go with a party who want to undo the disaster of last year, yet have no real chance of forming a government? Above all, a tory majority of the size many are now forecasting would be too hideous to bear. All one can really do is hold your nose, put a cross in the box, and hope for the best.

I am now very happy. Word came that my new wheelchair had been delivered to Welling Mobility yesterday, and it arrived here just one or two hours ago. I’m currently waiting for the drizzle to stop and a few breaks in the clouds to appear before I take her on her first run out. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for what feels like an age, although, to be fair, it wasn’t that long. Nonetheless, I think I’ll christen her Discovery, after the forthcoming Star Trek incarnation everyone is now fed up of waiting for, yet will be all the more succulent when it arrives.

Like many Trekkies, I’m getting a bit fed up waiting for news about Discovery to come out. They seem to keep putting it off and putting it off, so I’m beginning to doubt whether it’ll ever be shown. However, I’ve just been alerted to something to focus on in the meantime: Dean, one of my mates from the film festival, just sent me this link. It seems that Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane is working on a new live-action show spoofing Star Trek. Of course, a short trailer isn’t much to go on, and Macfarlane’s work can be fairly hit and miss; but I think Orville could be worth getting excited about.

There have been science fiction comedies before, Red Dwarf for example, but none with such obviously high production values. This has the potential to be great, and could say a lot of interesting things about Star Trek and sci fi generally. Mind you, by the same token, it could be puerile and childish – just a series of gags set on a star ship. Either way, I think this is one to keep an eye on.

For the first time in what felt like ages, last night saw us around the corner at Cataleya, the local Thai restaurant, for a Gus Glen gig. I can’t remember when the last one was, but I guess it was at least a year. Nonetheless, it was an awesome night: the place was far fuller than it had been on previous nights, and the people loved it.

Gus had a fairly young woman with him last night, and together they duetted some great songs. Mostly they did rock classics, but Gus threw in some folk songs too. They both have fine voices, and it was lovely sitting there listening to them.

Towards the end, though, Gus joked that he would have to play Sweet Home Alabama even though he hated it because someone – meaning me- always made him do it. I felt instantly guilty when he said that. It is true I like that song, and that I have rather enthusiastically asked him to play it in the past; but I didn’t mean to demand he plays it every time he sees me. I think he was joking though, and when I talked to him about it afterwards he laughed about it. Nonetheless, let this stand as formal notification that Gus does not have to play Sweet Home Alabama if he doesn’t want to.

It ended at about ten, and as Mitch pushed me back up the hill (I’m still sans powerchair) I started to hope the next gig wouldn’t be too far away. Nights like that, with great music and great company, really help make life fun.

Just to let you know, TIIROAC is still very much up and running. It has not been hacked; it has not come under attack from international terrorists. Whether this is a good or bad thing, I’m not sure: on the one hand, it means I can just keep posting entries, the same as always; on the other, I suppose it also means that my blog isn’t important enough to be attacked. I obviously don’t rank as high as Fed-Ex or the NHS on the terrorists’ agenda. Oh well, that kind of puts me in my place.

You can go to the ends of the earth, you can see the words greatest sights, but I have now come to the understanding that nothing is as beautiful as a simple hug from the person you love. This morning, in the drowsy few moments between sleep and wakefulness, I felt Lyn’s hand on me. I rolled over and hugged her back. She smiled and giggled wth that sweet, infectious giggle she has, and in that moment I knew she loved me. It was a feeling I once thought I would never experience. felt content beyond words, and wanted that instant to forever. But I knew it had to end, so I decided to record it on here instead. Some moments, however fleeting,are so beautiful that they cannot be allowed to fade into nothingness.

Can it really be ten years since I wrote this entry? Ten years since I looked round at my friends in Brandies bar as we prepared to say goodbye to eachother for the last time? I remember that night well: it felt so final, as if something was coming well and truly to an end. And it was indeed an end – the end of our lives as undergraduates; the final night of three marvellous years.

After that night, of course, we all went our separate ways. Thanks to the internet we are, for the most part, still in touch; but we rarely see eachother. Most of the guys now have families: Steve and Jenny now have children; Rocky has a beautiful baby boy; Chris is married. Of course I still see Charlotte from time to time, and she remains one of my dearest friends, but, C being C, I can barely keep track of her. We are all now responsible adults, upstanding members of society with jobs and mortgages. What a difference ten years has made. Hell, even I, with Lyn’s help, have settled down, cut out the booze and taken up volunteering.

Yet I remember that night, dressed in my blue frock with a liverful of bitter, when I looked round at my friends and realised how much I’d miss them. Probably more than anything else at university, those guys made me who I am today. I check facebook every day to catch up with their news – it’s wonderful to see how they are progressing. Rocky’s son is growing fast, as are Steve and Jen’s daughters.

All good things must indeed come to an end. Only, nothing ever truly ends: things change and evolve in time’s eternal flow. People drift apart and come together, just as the tide flows in and out. What remain are memories, and those are what I still relish, ten years on.

While I won’t say too much about it, Lyn’s new album, War On Humans, is available to download and buy here. A hell of a lot of effort went into making these tracks, and I think it shows. Enjoy!

There are far more able people out there than me articulating the utter absurdity of what is currently happening in America, this guy, for example. Things are getting ridiculous over there: the man they currently call their president is an utter child who thinks he has the authority and right to fire the head of the FBI when he starts getting too close to his links with Russia. Then he thinks nobody will smell a herring. Trump is beyond a joke. If this had been a film, I’d have walked out of the cinema or changed the tv channel long ago – it’s just too far fetched. But this is reality, and we really do have a complete fool pretending to be president of America. The question is, how much longer before the adults step in, cut the crap and force him out.

Late last night, in a moment of reflection, I noted the following: ”People are trying to manipulate us so you can’t trust anyone – least of all people who claim we’re all being manipulated!” I have been thinking about conspiracism quite a bit recently; it seems to be becoming more and more popular. Fed up with what they see as the mainstream, people turn to alternative sources of information. I suppose that is understandable – after all, as resources grow ever more scarce, the mainstream just feeds us the same old crap without offering any solutions to their day-to-day problems.

The thing is, these alternative sources of info, often online, seem to ensnare people: they tell people stories, giving people hope yet often creating scapegoats. They weave elaborate webs, telling tales of who did what to whom, which sound convincing and authoritative, but for which they produce very little evidence. They tell listeners that the mainstream, controlled by their scapegoat of choice, is trying to manipulate them so they should heed only the so-called alternatives. This gives listeners a sense of power and privilege, as if they are gaining information few others are privy to.

Once ensnared, however, listeners are fed what essentially boils down to a diet of unjustified hatred. We all know that, on the internet, people can give vent to whatever prejudices they have – some merely hide them under a guise of conspiracism, taking people’s sense of injustice at what is happening in the world and turning it against whatever group they wish. Once they have people’s ear, they have power over them; they are trapped by the lies and stories, feeling powerful while being manipulated.

It is indeed foolish to trust anyone; everyone is being manipulated. But the people who point that out are often the most manipulative people of them all. With that in mind, do you still trust me?

I know I’ve been a bit heavy on the shortish, link-oriented entries recently, but I really want to flag this up. Once again it’s on Brexit: A C Grayling is a very astute man indeed; he points out how much the current situation is starting to look like a coup. First they weight the referendum, disenfranchising people more likely to vote Remain; they then deny the slender outcome was ever going to be only advisory; then they say that the triggering of article Fifty is irreversible. It is as if the tories and Labour, for that matter – are now hell bent on the hardest of Brexits. Like the vainglorious generals who, a century ago, sent cavalry to charge against German machine gun, these tory fools would have this country ripped to shreds in the basis of patriotic fervour. As Grayling points out, things will soon be so bad that we will

be begging to rejoin. He gives it ten or twelve years, but I hope we come to our senses long before then. It is high time that we started to listen to experts like Grayling, and ignoring fools who, dressed up in their shiny, nineteenth-century uniforms, tell us to just keep riding and not to look back.

I just turned my computer on. Like most people, I was bracing myself for another morning like the two last year when we woke to find that utter stupidity and populism had prevailed over tolerance and thought. Thank zark this was not another morning like that. I know Macron is not perfect: in no way is he an ideal candidate for lefties like me; but at least he beat La Pen. Had that bitch been elected in France, Europe would effectively be over. The european project – working together, across Europe, towards tolerance and stability – would have been a thing of the past. La Pen would have seen France withdraw, and after that there would have been little point continuing to struggle with it. At least now we europeans still have a glimmer of hope. I’m just ashamed we brits were taken in by the abject, brainless folly that our French neighbours avoided last night. Mind you, we have a chance to redeem ourselves in about a months time.

Although, as Lyn knows, I tend not to go in for conspiracism, I think this article on the interconnected forces behind the election of Trump, Brexit and so on very, very disturbing. ”A shadowy global operation involving big data, billionaire friends of Trump and the disparate forces of the Leave campaign influenced the result of the EU referendum.” Several interlinked groups are conspiring to hijack world politics, driving it more and more to thee right. I wish I could simply dismiss such stories as paranoid fantasy, but it is becoming increasingly clear that world politics is being manipulated by a few very powerful, very right-wing people. The situation is becoming very scary indeed.

For the record, I’m firmly with Stephen Fry on this story. He is apparently now being investigated by Republic of Ireland police on blasphemy charges. He questioned how anyone could believe in a loving, beneficent god when there is clearly so much suffering in the world. To me, these are perfectly reasonable questions to ask, and it troubles me that anyone would still object to him asking them in this day and age. I daresay he pointed out a truth some people are still uncomfortable with – perish the thought that he’ll encourage people to think for theirselves and start questioning the authority of the church.

I have not had a bad day at all. My parents came for lunch, and it was great to see them. We took them to the park, where we had a good old chat over some delicious cake.

My powerchair is still out of action though, so after my parents set off paul wheeled me home while Lyn went for a walk. I felt a bit down about not being able to go with her, but at least I have the entire internet to keep me occupied. I have, however, just come across something to put my ‘suffering’ in context: this appalls me, and I hope anyone who watches it will be too. It is a Guardian Youtube video about the treatment of people with disabilities in Bolivia. They are deprived of any dignity whatsoever, get given a pittance from the state, and are treated with absolute savagery when they protest. What the tories are doing here is bad enough, but what this film reveals is utterly inhumane. As a disabled person, my heart goes out to them, and weeps.

I am very lucky: I have a great life, a great partner and great family. While I get quite upset about what is currently happening in this country, films like this demonstrate how much worse life for people like me could be. Yet that is no reason to stop fighting and get complacent: things could easily take a nasty turn. The distance from merry chats in the park to being hauled from one’s chair by riot police is smaller than one thinks; and these days it seems to be slowly shrinking.

Malcolm Baker is deluding himself. Although he explained himself well in the end and turned out to be quite a reasonable guy, I was spitting at the tv when I saw him accost Tim Farron as he did this week. I’m sorry, but he, and other out-voters, manifestly did not understand what they were voting for. Yes, the EU is corrupt and badly in need of reform, but excluding ourselves from it was not the solution. We have now cut ourselves off from our neighbours; we no longer get a say in how our biggest, most vital marketplace is run. Thee reduced trade will lead to reduced national income, leading to less tax income. Services will need to be cut, benefits lost. People will soon be suffering. At least in europe we could try to reform it; outside of it, we are utterly irrelevant – a slowly starving irritation off the north coast of an important world power. Would any informed person have voted for that? I think not.

If I may just put my Trekkie hat back on, there is increasing speculation among Star Trek fans that the next film – the fourth in the so-called Kelvin Timeline – might be an effort to restore the prime timeline. That is, knowing how displeased fans were with the reboot, execs at paramount may decide to restore the franchise to what I call ‘proper Star Trek’. I earlier came across this fan video discussing it. Closing the loop, clearing up the alternative timeline, would be the logical thing to do. I hope they are right; like many fans I’ve never liked the kelvin timeline because I felt it sort of deleted or overwrote the other star trek stuff. But if they restore the timelines, it would reset things to how they were, so to speak. It would also clear the way, not only for Discovery to be set in the prime timeline, but for possible cameos by the old stars. Who knows: characters like Picard could return. Thus it would seem the right thing for the studio executives to do.

I still think Lyn is utterly remarkable. She has recently got into doing a show on Revival Internet Radio. At her allotted time, she broadcasts for an hour or two on there, selecting the tracks she wants to play. It’s right up her street. The amazing thing is the sheer effort L goes to: rather than just play one track after another, she creates jingles and links to go between them on her speech app. It takes her hours, not just to input the text but to cue each link at precisely the moment she wants.

She broadcasts on Wednesday and Saturday evenings, at a time which I’m usually lolloping on the sofa watching TV. On my way to bed last night, I walked into her little studio to wish her good night and saw what she was doing. It took my breath when I realised the effort she was going to, and I had to admit to myself that I could never do something like that. As proud as I am of, say, keeping my blog going for so long or seeing my Master’s through to completion, this was effort of another order. When I saw what she was doing, my jaw dropped in admiration.

I hope this doesn’t sound patronising because I don’t mean it to be. As I touched upon here, this is something she loves to do. But what I didn’t realise when I wrote that entry last year was the mind-boggling, painstaking effort Lyn goes to, now on a weekly basis. I simply wanted to recognise something I find utterly remarkable in the woman I love, and to ask everyone reading this to go take a listen.

A couple of weeks ago, I was in the park, chatting with Mike, the owner of the cafe there. He was telling me how wary he was of plans to build a new Skatepark there. He explained that, while he had nothing against skateboarding per se, he was just worried it would increase the number of young people in the park, especially after dark. I didn’t know what to think or how to reply: I could certainly see his point; yet that is not the image I associate with skaters. Admittedly, I don’t know many of them, but when I think of people who skateboard, I think of jolly, lively young men dedicated to their hobby who wouldn’t hurt a fly. The type of chap who listens to bands like The Cat Empire.

However, that lack of knowledge captured my interest. Once home, I began to look up what I could about skating and skater culture. It wasn’t that I was ever going to take the sport up myself, but – who knows? – it may lead to some interesting film or blog material.

What I found was a phenomenon I had been previously completely unaware of. Skating is now being used, worldwide, as a force for social change. By giving people a physical activity to focus on, it is becoming a great leveller. It requires practice, skill and dedication. For example, I just came across this TEDx video of a man explaining the impact the introduction of Skating has had in Afghanistan. It is remarkable how much can be achieved through this simple little hobby.

I’m still a newbie, of course; I need to look a lot deeper, especially into the filmic aspects of skating. It feels like an exciting new culture I need to explore. As for the proposed skatepark though, I still can’t make my mind up. As open as I am to the sport, that particular spot may not be ideal; there may be better places to put it, not far away. There’s also the risk that it might attract other, less wholesome people, not so interested in practicing their skills. Having said that, I think it might be cool to see this vibrant new culture come to Charlton.

While it may state the more-or-less blindingly obvious, I think this Independent article is well worth flagging up. ”The campaign to leave the European Union was mostly funded by five of the UK’s richest businessmen, a new study has revealed.” If that does not make you realise what the Outist campaign was all about, nothing will. As I keep saying, Brexit was all about capitalism: it was about clearing a way for the most sickening, greediest, most inhumane form of neoliberalism to be foisted on this country. The EU had major faults, I grant you, but I fear the people of this country were deliberately misled: they were told that the EU was about business, and that it wanted to dismantle the state and the NHS. They were told this by far-right p’tahks trying to tap into people’s fears in order to achieve their essentially xenophobic goals. In short, Brexit was based on the lies of the richest, most sickening people in the country. We have all been manipulated, and must all fight back before we loose all our rights.

I think it’s quite essential that I flag this short video up. It’s a congenitally blind man discussing the idea of race, and I find it utterly beautiful. He has no concept of people’s skin colour, so he finds it bewildering that people can be judged over it. It’s wonderful to hear him speak about it in a way I find both touching and profound.

I really don’t know what to think about this: Labour’s clive Lewis has joined the call for a second referendum on our membership of the EU. As much as I think that what happened last year was a disaster, I can’t help worry that another referendum would only stir up more devision in this country. The UK is still bitterly divided over last year’s result. To some, this would sound like the ruling classes telling the people to try again because they didn’t get it right the first time; that would just lead to the same friction which gave us the first result. On the other hand, as Lewis points out, a lot has changed since last year: for one, the american president is now a psychopathic child with no idea what he’s doing. Do we really think it’s better to try to deal with Trump than our European neighbours?

I realise that what’s done is done: narrow though it was, last year’s result has to be respected, or everything will become meaningless. I also realise that the EU is an organisation badly in need of reform. Yet the path away from it leads somewhere far, far worse. As more people realise that, as their human and consumer rights are taken away one by one, I think the depth of the mistake we made last year will become clearer. I think calls like this one will start getting louder. I also think that, between Brexit and what is happening in France right now, this might be the impetus for reform the EU so badly needs. Who knows: dire though they were, the events of last year may, in the end, lead to an even brighter future.

The thing is, there isn’t much to record about yesterday, now that I come to it. Don’t get me wrong: it wasn’t a bad day – apart, that is, from the fact that the left drivewheel on my wheelchair broke on my way out, so I had to be pushed everywhere for the rest of the day. It just wasn’t the bells-and-whistles sort of day I was kind of anticipating. It was a lovely, relaxed afternoon in the park, spent sipping coffee talking to friends. Matt joined us. He’s currently working on what sounds like quite a large film shoot, and it was fascinating to hear him tell us all about it (of course, you’ll understand that I can’t go into detail on here). Cricket was also being played on the pitch next to us, and it was great to bear witness to the first few balls being bowled of the season. That also enabled me to say Hi to James and my cricketing friends during their tea break. Thus, party or not, broken powerchair or not, it was still a really good afternoon. If the rest of the summer is up to that standard, I think I’m in for a good one.

I am really looking forward to this afternoon. As I mentioned a couple of days ago, Lyn has a gig in the park. It is to celebrate the launch of her new album, so it will be quite a big event. On top of that, though, Mike, who runs the cafe in the park, celebrates his birthday today; it’s also the first cricket match of the season. All in all, then, I suspect I have an awesome afternoon ahead of me. Aside from the clouds, it feels like summer is finally here. Expect a full report about it on here soon.

Yesterday was quite a good day. I was pleased with the blog entry I wrote in the morning – the longest I’ve written for quite a while. The afternoon was spent out and about, mostly with Lyn at the cafe, where we enjoyed some delicious cake. Then, after dinner in the evening, I went to a film festival organisation meeting: preparations for September’s event are going really well, and, while I still have a few things to organise, I’m really looking forward to it.

After the meeting, though, something happened which got me down. We finished at about nine, and everyone was leaving Charlton House. Gavin and the others were heading for the White Swan for a drink. In times passed I’d have eagerly joined them, but I haven’t had a drink in almost a year and didn’t want to be tempted, so I crossed the road and started to head home.

All of a sudden, two boys on bikes started to insult me as I went past the take away. I was shocked: at the meeting I was respected; my input is valued, and I’m treated as any other member of the group. As we had left, we had been talking about my blog, with one guy saying how impressed he was with my entry yesterday. Suddenly these kids were trying to make fun of me simply for being disabled, saying things about my dribbling. They seemed to think it made them look big and hard.

The way in which I had suddenly been taken from respected member of a committee to object of mockery was too much for me to bear. I told a woman standing nearby who seemed to know these children that if she didn’t discipline them I would contact the police. She said she would, and at first I thought about hanging around to ensure she did, but it was getting late so I just sighed and continued my journey home. Frankly I would be surprised if she did anything.

This really is getting to me; it’s happening more and more. The same group of little twits think it’s fun to try to provoke and upset me. It just seems unfair – why should I have to tolerate it? I want to do something about it, but I don’t know what. Frankly, part of me wants to knock their blocks off, which I suppose is part of the problem: when I get agitated, I try to shout back, which they think is funny. That’s why they do it. I should therefore just ignore it, but I don’t see why I should have to put up with it. I’ve worked very hard to get to where I am today; to be trivialised, to be the object of mockery by some little shit who probably won’t achieve half of what I have, just infuriates me.

I once wrote, some time ago now, that I believed that to be liberal is to think. While I realise that that is quite a generalisation, I stand by it. Liberalism is the realisation that there are other ways of thinking and living just as valid as one’s own; it is the acceptance and appreciation of human variety. Liberals don’t judge people simply on the basis of who they are; they try not to make assumptions or generalisations. To take such a stance requires thought: it necessitates intellectual engagement; one tries to see things from other points of view. To a liberal, for example, crime is committed not because people are bad, deviant or evil, but because they are driven to do so by their socioeconomic circumstances.

Conversely, it follows that I believe anti liberals do not think. They seem to refuse to do so. To them, only their way of life is valid, and everyone else is in the wrong.

They seem not to want to consider other perspectives. They find comfort and strength in the belief that they are right and superior, everyone else wrong and inferior. To engage with other ways of thinking would threaten that comfortable notion, so they refuse to do so. Theirs is a stance based on arrogance and ignorance.

The problem is, such attitudes are on the rise. People are refusing to think things through, rejecting the advice of experts and thinking only their viewpoint is valid. A type of thuggery is on the rise: people increasingly think they have a right to discriminate, and that intolerance should have a place in society. Of course, this was all set in motion by the referendum last year: the victory of bigots like Farage lent legitimacy to the puerile hate which had been subdued, yet which some thugs still harboured. Farage, in his attempt to make xenophobia seem reasonable and acceptable, caused such scumbags to believe that their views were valid, their arrogance was founded in real superiority, and they had a right to air their prejudices.

We are currently seeing a shocking rise in hate crime; UKIP are openly advocating a burkha ban; old prejudices are starting to become commonplace. This has arisen from certain people’s refusal to see the broader picture and engage with other points of view. That, after all, requires thought. It is far easier, for some, simply to believe a sharp-dressed man who tells them they don’t need to tolerate others, that he can make Britain great again and that we need to ‘take back control’. People accept such simplistic fantasies because they reduce everything to binaries such as ‘us and them’, ‘good and bad’ and ‘black and white’ which means they do not have to engage with the complexities and uncertainties of the world. Remaining part of Europe meant entertaining the idea that we could live happily alongside people who are different yet equal to us; in turn that means accepting we are not superior or exceptional, but just one member of a community. That is a far more subtle, less clear-cut reality some people refused to deal with.

In turn this has lead to the legitimisation of thuggery. The outists won, so people now think they have a right to see the world in the simplest terms. They now think they have a right to air their hatreds and prejudices. They think it means that they were right all along, us liberals were defeated, so they can ignore us ‘snowflakes’ and do as they please – our opinions no longer matter. I fear we are now going to see this rise and rise: the referendum last year unleashed a monster; it gave a green light to people’s most basic, simplistic, thuggish thoughts. It told every racist drunkard or xenophobic taxi driver that they were right all along, and that they didn’t have to listen to us snooty, university educated liberal elites. They dismiss the idea of being politically correct as some kind of oppressive thought control, not realising how vital it is to guaranteeing rights and equalities. Simplistic, binary nationalism won the day, and suddenly the views of those who proposed a more complex, subtle, ambiguous and colourful reality have become utterly irrelevant.

Whether this was the intended result when CaMoron first announced the referendum is uncertain, yet nonetheless it is what is happening, and I suspect it will get far worse before it gets better. People, many of whom as I wrote here were disenfranchised by the education system, take the referendum result to mean they have the green light to air their most puerile, childish prejudices. To them, the views of those who say such discrimination is a bad thing are now irrelevant; they won the referendum, and so can victimise any minority they please. They think they have been shown to be right all along, that the country somehow agrees with them, so they can now air their idiotic, reductionist views freely. It’s a very worrying, quite sickening state of affairs.

Lyn is currently in the process of trying to promote her new album. As with all art these days, creating something is only half the story; the other half is getting it seen, read or listened to. To that end, L has arranged to have a launch party in the park on Saturday. Conveniently for me, that coincides with the first Mighty Eights cricket match of the season, so hopefully I’ll get to party, promote and watch cricket, all at the same time.

Seriously though, I’m really looking forward to Saturday: Lyn has worked so hard on this collection of songs, for over two years. She often works late into the night, long after I go to bed. Composition for her is a long, meticulous, painstaking process. To have that work celebrated, as it absolutely deserves to be, will be awesome. If you are anywhere near Charlton Park this Saturday afternoon, please join us. I have a feeling it will be a great afternoon.

I just finished watching Empire of the Tsars, a history of Romanov Russia from the BBC, and I must say it wasn’t that bad. I’ve been interested in Russian history since I was introduced to it at A-Level: it just seems so vibrant, so dramatic, so vicious and sad. It all boils down to a set of bloody-minded autocrats who, one after another, refuse to relinquish power. The Tsars themselves were bad enough, especially Nicolas II, but I can’t help thinking that what followed them – the Red Tsars was even worse. I also can’t help thinking that it is the same, even now; Russia never seems to change. Isn’t Putin a despotic autocrat, a strong man desperate to impose his will, in his own way? Poor old Russia: no matter how many revolutions it has, it never seems to change.