Something truly awesome happened yesterday evening. We had just got back from Asda, having done our weekly shop. We had ‘walked’ there and back, and lyn was still in her powerchair. It had been a nice little outing: shopping, and then a coffee. L is still getting used to handling her chair, so we had been together, Dominik with us; but yesterday, Lyn suddenly said she wanted a walk out on her own. That had never happened before: she has always needed someone to push her in her manual chair, and someone’s always been with her when she’s been out in her electric. Last night was a first. Of course we let her go; Dom and I stayed home. Truth be told, I was a bit nervous.

I need not have been: Lyn returned about half an hour later, safe and sound, having just been to a local park and back. Lyn is actually pretty competent driver. Yet, the special thing is, it was her first solo trip out I’ve ever known her to take. In fact, I asked her after she got home, and it was her first trip out by herself since 1992, when she was living in Cardiff. That struck me as pretty damn awesome: she’s only had it for two or three weeks, but her new chair is already changing her life: she seems more confident and independent. One can only imagine the sense of newfound freedom she must feel. I could tell from her eyes when she got home, that was just the first of many such trips – I better get used to it. As I joked with Lyn when she got back, now I know how she feels when I go out on one of my little jaunts.

I know it sounds a bit pathetic on my part, given I’m supposed to be commenting on such things, but I hadn’t heard of the bbc’s change of governance until late last night. Of course, I knew it’s charter renewal was coming up, and I was a bit worried about it, but I didn’t know when it was or what would happen. Now that it has, I’m not sure what to make of it: last night, the beeb were putting a brave face on, saying it could be much worse and that the Tories had watered down their ambitions for it’s complete (figurative) destruction. On the other hand, the fact is they are going to impose a external regulator and government appointed DG upon it. While you could say that increasing links with he government makes the bbc more democratic and accountable, the only other places with such a relationship between government and broadcaster are north Korea and China.

The fact is, the tories hate the bbc, which they see as too left wing. They hate anything funded by the state. Like four-year-olds who haven’t learned to share, tories think they should only fund themselves and don’t see the point of everyone contributing to a general pot so other people might benefit. Hence the moron currently calling himself culture secretary (what a joke – the fat p’tahk wouldn’t know culture if it hit him on his arse) has likened the licence fee to the poll tax. Had he had his way, the license fee would have been scrapped and the beeb gutted. As it is, we’re now going to have to pay for Iplayer, which I’m not happy about.

While part of me says it could be worse, and that the bbc basically survived, another part of me is angry that these nonces in government think they have a right to try to remake the bbc in their own image. Like the nhs, the bbc is one of the best parts of the uk. On a personal level, now that I come to think about it, I owe a lot to the beeb: where else did I first encounter Star Trek but bbc2? Who showed Michael Palin or David Attenborough documentaries? Where did Monty Python begin? Who produced Happy and Glorious? I owe so much to the bbc; we all do. That the tories think they can push it around and do as they please with such a valuable thing is yet another reason why I loathe them. It belongs to us all, something we grew up with to be cherished; yet CaMoron and co think it is theirs to remake, dictate to and meddle with. Their arrogance is astounding.

Tonight I feel something I haven’t felt in quite some time. It has been a wile since I had the sense of achievement one gets knowing one’s done a good day’s work; probably not since I was doing my master’s. Today, though, I was back in the fold, trying to work out how to add audio to a presentation. I’m not due to do it until September, but I’m worried about how I’m going to present it. The problem is, trying to get a computer to say the words as the slides are shown. Recording everything into mp3s was easy enough; the problem was trying to embed them into the presentation file, then transferring it onto my Ipad. I must have spent the last four hours on it, first on my own, then with Lyn helping. The odd thing is, the time flew by: it was sort of fun to ty to solve such a problem.

This might be slightly irrational, but Gareth Malone is really getting on my nerves. You might have noticed that the Invictus Games are currently on in Florida. It is an Olympic-style sporting event for wounded service people, set up in 2014. To be honest I’m not sure what to make of it: it reeks a little of deifying wounded soldiers, trying to cast them in the same light as olympic and paralympic athletes; sort of like the gladiator-worship of Rome. On the other hand, if it helps in their recovery and rehabilitation, who am I to criticise it?

However, the thing that has me particularly irritated about it is ‘Gareth’s Invictus Choir’. Not ‘Gareth Malone’s Invictus Choir’ or ‘The Invictus Choir’, but ‘Gareth’s Invictus Choir’, as if he thinks we should all automatically recognise who he is. This is a show where Malone goes around creating a choir of wounded service people to sing at the Invictus ceremonies. Now, that sounds rather familiar! Charles Hazlewood did near enough exactly the same thing in 2012 with the Paraorchestra, so it strikes me that Malone has stolen the idea in a way. Both projects concern the gathering of people with disabilities into a musical group, who then go on to perform at a ceremony. Unlike Hazelwood, however, Malone seems to want us all to look at him, and say how great he is for working with the service people to overcome the trauma of combat, rather than at the singers. Indeed, much of the show concerns Malone teaching choir members to sing. Almost every shot in the show was of Malone or included him, giving the impression that Malone is the star of the show and originator of the entire concept. Nowhere as far as I could tell was the Paraorchestra referenced, yet the concept is almost identical. Moreover, whereas in the documentary on the Paraorchestra, the contributions from Hazlewood focussed on the participating musicians, in this, Malone focusses on himself and how the process is effecting him, as if he wants to use the show to boost his profile rather than the singers’. Sorry, but such egoism is nauseating. They could at least allude to the Paraorchestra, or say they took their cue from it. But no: Malone obviously wants the concept to be presented as entirely his own, as if he wants us all to say how great he is. Of course it’s great such a group has been set up; I just wish malone would recognise what others have already done rather than try to take credit for a concept he essentially stole, and that he would not blatantly use the talents of disabled people as a means of boosting his public profile.

Lyn and I went out on another epic walk yesterday afternoon. We explored Severndroog Castle and it’s surrounding park, before getting dinner in a pub on the way back. Even though I go past that park in a bus each time I need to go get cash, I had never been into it before yesterday. Now that I have, however, I’ll certainly be going back: the views from up there, atop Shooters hill, are stunning. We must have been able to see ten miles at least, southward across London and into the countryside beyond. With the woman I love by my side, still obviously relishing her new mobility, it was a truly wonderful moment.

Being out meant that I missed the beeb’s tribute to sir David Attenborough. Predictably, I caught up with it this morning on the Iplayer. It struck me as a terrific show, and a fitting tribute to probably the greatest broadcaster who ever lived. Highlights for me were the interview with Michael Palin, and, of course, this gem of a Nick Park animation showing the gorillas giving their take on Attenborough’s most famous moment. It was a fine comic touch, encapsulating the deep affection we all have for a truly great man. The show closed with a rendition of What a Wonderful World; with the view from the top of Shooters Hill still fresh in my memory, I certainly agree with that sentiment.

Just to follow up on this entry, for the record I still quite passionately support the bbc. It is currently coming under all sorts of attacks from both left and right; you have to feel quite sorry for it. The rightists say it’s too left wing, and those on the left fear it’s shifting towards the right – it cannot win. The problem is, the tory scumbags currently running the country are trying to control what the beeb says: they try to stop the bbc presenting them too negatively, or covering the real effects of the cuts. Fearing for it’s survival, the bbc has no choice but to watch what it says. It’s instincts are to be impartial and objective, but those on the right see that as having a left-wing bias. The result is that it swerves right. It’s editors probably know the shit it’s currently being forced to spew is just that, but it has no choice. Thus we should be defending the bbc against tory interference, not attacking it or calling for the end of the license fee. To do so is to simply do the bidding of it’s commercial rivals like Sky, who’d like nothing more than to see the bbc out of their way so they can ram their inane free-market bullshit down out throats.

One of my all-time favourite memories is still watching Monty Python Live. To be able to say that I have watched the greatest ever comedy troupe in the flesh is a great privilege. I had thought Python belonged to the past; as something over, gone, ex, and which could only be seen on youtube. Thus that night in 2014 was special to me beyond words. Yet it would never have happened had it not been for one man; the great, great man who commissioned Python in the first place.

Monty Python is just one of innumerable things we have to thank Sir David Attenborough for. Today is his ninetieth birthday, so I was just reading about him. Of course, I’ve read his autobiography, Life on Air, but that was a while ago and my memory needed refreshing. The number of experiences the man has had, the things he has seen and done, is staggering. On top of that, he has done more to educate people about the wonders of the natural world than anyone else. Forget Coustau, forget Irwin, Attenborough is without peer. As a broadcaster the man is a colossus. I also love the fact that, like the queen, he seems to have always been there – a gentle authority figure, a part of life in Britain since before my parents were born. Yet, not only that, but the programmes he has made and continues to make are utterly fascinating: most of them are stunningly shot, and have a gentle, knowing narration we all remember from childhood. They have educated us all about the natural world, about life outside our windows, bringing it into our lives and inspiring us like no other program. I am in awe of David Attenborough, and honestly feel that we, as a civilisation, owe him a debt of gratitude.

I just turned my computer on, and it’s already becoming quite a good day. Sadiq Kahn has just been announced as Mayor of London. That means that, not only are we now rid of that absolute arsehole Borris Johnson, but we also don’t have that even bigger arsehole, Zac Goldsmith, replacing him. Both were absolutely loathsome tory p’tahks with clear xenophobic tendencies. At least now we have a decent Labour mayor who’ll hopefully make London a bit fairer and who’ll pay a bit more attention to the needs of members of minorities, rather than just sucking up to the millionaires in the City.

Link

I know it’s only about a ship’s name, but reading this story has really put a smile on my face. Instead of Boaty McBoatface, the name the public famously voted for, the UK’s new polar research ship is to be named RRS Sir David Attenborough. While I must admit I liked the public’s choice, it was a bit childish and not really fitting. The new name is far more fitting, and what better tribute could there be to a truly great man? The RRS Sir David Attenborough will launch in 2019.

Just to go back to the merging of cinephilia and fandom, the fusion of the discourses is further illustrated here, in Brows Held High’s review of F for Fake. It displays precisely the fusion of the intellectual engagement of cinephilia, with it’s reflections on authorship and the status of the author as exposed in film, with the textual playfulness of fandom I’m talking about. It is a reaction to a film in which the guy says something about film and art. Thus there is a rhyzomic element to it; it’s both a display of filmic love and an analysis of film and the love of film at the same time. As I said in my entry on his appraisal of Klingon Hamlet, this guy displays a deep intellectual engagement with film – he uses film to say things about film, just as the cinephiles did/do – but with all the playfulness of fandom. By examining Welles’ film about forgery in art, he teases out ideas and arguments surrounding Auterism in film and the status of the artist, using the film to say something about art and film as an art: He uses film as a vehicle to reflect on the nature of film itself, just as the Cahiers group did, but does so in snappy Youtube videos. This is precisely the hybrid of the two discourses I speculate about in my masters thesis. You can probably tell, I’m quite fascinated by the videos he makes.

There is growing skepticism online about the impartiality of the bbc, and I’m beginning to agree with it. While they go on and on about Labour’s problems, they say very little about the election fraud committed by the tories. At least we have online sources like The Canary, which is reporting that the tories are being investigated by the police for illegally overspending on battle busses in last year’s election. That is a criminal offence; if found guilty, ‘dozens” of tories could face fines and/or jail sentences. Yet we hear virtually nothing about it on the mainstream news. It’s pathetic!

I have a tendency to procrastinate. I’ve always had it. When faced with something I don’t quite know how to deal with, I put it off ’till the very last moment. Then I suddenly feel a surge of energy when I decide I want everything sorted and out of the way, and resolve everything in one ultra-productive flurry. Today has been that type of day: I’ve had a couple of things I needed to do hanging over me for a week or so, and today I decided to get off my arse and get them done. They weren’t that big – just a dental appointment and train tickets to arrange etc – but I wasn’t sure how to go about them. Today, however, I came up with a plan, and in a burst of energy lasting about three hours got everything done. Sometimes, it seems, procrastination works, although the gentle rhetorical kick up the arse Lyn gave me last night (”Just go and get it sorted!”) may have had an effect too.

I know it has been bouncing around the internet for a couple of days, but I think I’ll flag this up today. Truth be told, I don’t really know what to make of it: President Obama has made a ‘retirement video’, a sort of self-referential spoof of himself planning what he’s going to do after leaving the White House. The americans seem to think it’s hilarious. I think it was an attempt at rereading formal hierarchies, much the same as we brits did with Happy and Glorious. But it doesn’t quite work for me: perhaps I’m not as familiar with american politics as I should be, so I don’t get a few of the jokes. It is not clear to me what this film is trying to do or say, or whether it’s supposed to be comic or straight; it just leaves me cold. I realise Obama is talking to the opposition leader, which, given how acrimonious American politics can get, is pretty cool; but I still think the Queen parachuting out of a helicopter with 007 is cooler. Granted, the two films were made for entirely different audiences; rather than trying to make the entire world’s jaw drop, this film is a gentle satire made by a retiring president trying to poke fun at himself. On that level, I suppose it’s okay, just not quite as awesome as the Americans seem to think. If they were trying to break ground in terms of playing with their national codes, conventions and structures, they get second prize. We brits set a high bar for this sort of self-referential spoof in 2012, and the yanks have yet to meet it.

Just a quick note to say that I now heartily recommend The Grain Store, near st. Pancras. Lyn and I are just on our way back from having met my parents there for lunch, and I can honestly say I’ve rarely had a better meal. While I only had a main course, the tastes I experienced were amazing. If you can check it out, do so you’ll struggle to find a better meal in London, I suspect. The food, together with the fascinating conversation about the EU referendum between dad and Lyn, means it has been a most entertaining afternoon.

Yesterday afternoon was wonderful. Lyn and I went for a long, long walk together over to Greenwich. We left Dominik at home and set off, Lyn leading the way. I couldn’t help thinking about the shots of Bond and his wife Tracey riding together on horseback in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service as we rode through the great park, now in it’s spring glory. I have long loved going out and exploring the city, but often felt slightly guilty about leaving L at home. Now she can come with me, and judging by yesterday, she’s just as keen for such voyages as I am.

In Greenwich park, Lyn texted Dom, and we waited for him to catch us up. Then we went down into Greenwich together, where we got a drink. Sitting there with the woman I love in one of the coolest parts of London felt incredible; and after that we followed the river back round and then headed for home. We must have gone ten miles at least. I really hope that was just the first of many such trips. Sharing my wanderings with lyn, following our noses as we discover more and more of the city together, will be amazing. But, of course, there’s no hurry: we have all the time in the world.

For the first time ever yesterday, Lyn and I went for a walk in our chairs, just by ourselves. Before now, she has had to have someone pushing her in her manual chair; but yesterday it was just us two. Now that she has a powerchair, she can leave the PA at home and we can share a loving walk. It felt wonderful yesterday. Of course, we didn’t go far – I didn’t want to push our luck, and to e honest I felt a bit nervous – but Lyn drove well, and hopefully it was just the first of many. I think we’ll now be going on such walks quite regularly. It will help Lyn gain confidence in her chair, and it will be a wonderful way for us to spend some quality time together.

Believe it or not, I’m happy. Imagine that: little old spastic me, barely able to walk and talk, happy! What have I got to be happy about? Well, when you think about it, is it so hard to believe? I have a wonderful partner, a great home, a loving, supportive family, and live in the greatest, most exciting city on earth. What have I got to be sad about? Yet according to this excellent article by Tom Shakespeare, many people still assume that people with disabilities must be miserable; they associate disability with sadness. That baffles me, I must say. Certainly, having CP can be a pain in the butt sometimes, but that is most often due to external factors:* I’m not miserable because I use a straw to drink, but I’m miserable when a restaurant doesn’t have any straws. I’m not miserable because I use a wheelchair, but I am when I can’t go to places because there are no ramps or lifts. The situation is therefore much more nuanced than many people seem to assume. I do not lounge about all day feeling sorry for myself, just because I can’t physically do some of the things others can. I enjoy life: I write (using my special extended keyboard); I go for walks (in my wheelchair); I go to pubs (armed with straws). I have done so many incredible things in my life, I genuinely don’t get why people would assume I’m miserable, or that I live a less satisfactory life than anyone else.

*This is, of course, leaving aside the experience of going to special school. Watching one’s classmates pass away one by one is certainly not a happy aspect of being disabled.

I can’t claim I know much about TTIP. I know it’s a huge trade deal with america, and much is currently being said about it. It’s rules apparently state that a government body cannot get in the way of business, so some people think it’s a threat to the NHS. Outers are using the issue to scare people into voting to leave the EU. Of course, if it was true, I would be concerned too: the NHS is an issue which outranks all others, and if I thought our continued membership of the EU threatened it, I’d vote out. But it doesn’t. I just found this article on Labour list, explaining that health is one of the areas exempt from TTIP.

[quote=”Rachel Reeves”]As a US-EU joint declaration last month made clear, TTIP will not ”prevent governments, at any level, from providing or supporting services in areas such as water, education, health, and social services.” EU officials have been at pains to ensure that health services will not be covered by the deal. Cecilia Malmstrom, the Swede who runs the EU’s trade policy, has categorically said that ”health services will not be affected in any way by TTIP.”[/quote]

Thus the outers are using an issue we all care about to fool people into leaving the EU. It’s baffling when you think about it. Why would the EU suddenly want to destroy the NHS, when in the past they have supported it? And why would people who ordinarily want the NHS privatised such a Boris Johnson suddenly want to defend it? It’s a sickeningly cynical ploy on behalf of the outers: they are trying to play on people’s fears, pretending to champion a national institution at the very moment that, according to this Guardian article, the tories have embarked on a ”conscious strategy to run the service down to a point where privatisation can be sold to the public as a way of improving things.” TTIP is no threat to the NHS, and nor is the EU. For the outers to say it is, to pretend to suddenly care about something most of them want broken up, perfectly demonstrates the type of people we are dealing with. While I have a few concerns about TTIP, and, as explained here, one cannot be absolutely sure what will be effected until everything is worked out, in all probability the NHS will be safeguarded. For the outers to use an issue they wouldn’t ordinarily care about to try to fool people into siding with them, is utterly contemptible.

wonderful news! Lyn has a new electric wheelchair. We just got home from the hospital, and L is testing it out. I’ve never seen her like this: she looks so happy and confident, the change in her is amazing. It’s as if getting this chair has turned something on in her which was not quite there before. It’s a shame she had to wait so long for it – Lyn required some quite specialized adaptations – but now she has her own powerchair, I think this is the start of a thrilling new chapter in our lives.

It might be a few months old, but I just came across this interesting Youtube vid by Michael Palin about keeping a diary again. Having kept a blog for thirteen years, I can certainly understand the urge to record: something just compels one to write, every day or so, as if it makes time more concrete. What pricked my attention, though, were Palin’s comments on going back an editing an entry after you write it. An entry, he suggests, can only record one’s thoughts and feelings on a certain day; to go back and change it after it is written is somehow dishonest. I know what he means, and used to impose such a rule on myself, but the urge to edit or add to an entry after I’d posted it got to much, especially if it was about something I cared about. I suppose that just highlights the difference between blogs and diaries: whereas a diary is a very personal, static record of one’s thoughts in time, a blog is public, meant to be read by others, so if something changes, or you think of something you want to add, you can. Maybe the shift from one to the other shows how public our lives have now all become. I know I’ve written about this before, but it occurs to me that this is a symptom of our changed relationship with time: in this postmodern era, the past is no longer fixed; we can rewrite it, altering history. Perhaps some would call that dishonest, but it just shows just how intangible ideas like ‘the past’, ‘truth’ and ‘reality’ really are.

Where the fuck is Jeremy Hunt’s resignation this morning? The guy is a disgrace. The NHS is the most wonderful institution ever created; the medical professionals who work in it all deserve our respect. Instead, the p’tahk Hunt treats them like shit, thinking he can bully them into accepting a contract we all know will put patients in danger. Nobody is against the concept of a seven-day NHS. In fact, it already functions 24/7. This dispute is about how that is funded: to do so properly, the doctors argue more resources need to be put into the NHS, something the tories refuse to do. That’s where the problem lies.

Rather than listening to their concerns, the tories are blatantly trying to manipulate the public into turning against the NHS. The issue could easily be resolved, but the tories don’t want to – they’d rather make political capital. It’s sickeningly cynical. They say they value the NHS while treating it with utter contempt; no doubt this is part of their overall plan to eventually beak it up. If Hunt had any honour, he would resign; but he’s a tory, and none of those arrogant insults to humanity has any. They want to push the NHS so hard that it crumbles and the public start to turn against it, at which time they can foist an American-style free market system on us. The tories would welcome that: they hate everything fair and equal, and loathe paying taxes into a system which helps others. But where will it leave ‘ordinary’ people, or those with disabilities? Lyn and I try to avoid going to the hospital whenever possible, but it’s reassuring to know it’s there should we need it. The tories think that that safety net should only be there for those who can afford private health insurance, and to hell with the rest of us. That’s why they are trying to destroy the NHS, and why it is imperative we stop them. They’re pushing it and pushing it, hoping it will crumble. They are trying to cast the doctors as the bad guys, hoping that the public will turn against them. Thus I support the doctors’ strike and demand Hunt’s resignation: our greatest institution must be maintained, for the good of all.

I was just doing one of my regular searches for Star Trek news, and stumbled on to this piece of sheer awesomeness. A short film responding to people like Theresa May, who say that the ECHR somehow holds us back, it has Sir Patrick Stewart as a prime minister asking cabinet ‘what has the European Convention on Human Rights ever done for us?’ Thus not only does it use one of my favourite actors (who I have met, by the way) in clear reference to a classic scene from Monty Python (who I’ve seen live by the way) but it does so to make a very good point about the biggest issue of the current moment and something I care deeply about. I love it!

When it comes to the question of readership and influence, I try not to hold any illusions. I know very few people read my blog – just my family, friends, and a few people I’ve told about it. That’s why I keep my entries short, and write about things which interest me on any given day. I’m not out to persuade anyone of anything. I’ve noticed, however, that other bloggers take a different approach: they seem to think having a blog means you have power. They give themselves remits, finding subjects to blog about and sticking to that subject. In the disability community in particular, there are one or two sites which seem to have nominated their selves as ‘our’ prime news sources, taking it upon themselves to relate every bit of disability- and welfare-related news to us, as if they were our only source of information. I wouldn’t object – each to their own, and so on – but the way they insist in putting their links in every disability-related facebook page and forum implies these writers think they are of a higher status than the rest of us, when they have just as much access to the primary sources of information as anyone else. In a relatively small community like ours, I have problems with someone taking such a position for himself, and telling everyone to come to him for their disability and welfare-related news. It would be fine if such sites were just called blogs, on a par with the rest of the blogsphere; or else they could set up a proper disability news website with a proper staff; yet to inflate a site to such a position, as if it somehow outranks ‘normal blogs’ like mine, seems to me a tad egotistical.

I feel I should write something about Shakespeare today. He is, of course, a major influence in my life as a writer; I first came across him, like most British children, in GCSE English. We studied Macbeth, and from the first few lines I was in love with the sheer richness of the language. Something in the way he used words blew me away, both in their rhyme and rhythm and the imagery they conjured up. However, that is not an uncommon experience, and, truth be told, I’ve not had many dealings with the Bard for quite some time.

I was mucking around on Youtube yesterday afternoon, though, when I found this. It’s the first part of a two part appraisal of Klingon Hamlet. I’m flagging it up here for a couple of reasons: not only does it tie one of my favourite filmic franchises into a current event, but it is a great example of fandom merging with cinaphilia. The guy who made it is clearly very intelligent; he knows what he’s talking about, both in terms of Shakespeare and Star Trek. He has obviously sat down and thought about what he wants to say. More to the point, he alludes to a wide range of references, both classical and contemporary, mixing them with a great deal of confidence to form persuasive arguments. It strikes me that this is exactly the type of hybrid of fandom and cinephilia I speculate about in my Master’s. There is a type of joviality in his delivery – the type of playfulness we often see on Youtube videos of it’s type. Yet that is mixed with a high-brow refinement and an at least Bachelor’slevel knowledge of film. What he says in this as well as his other videos reminds me of the young turk writers of Cahiers du Cinema, unafraid to engage with texts from all sorts of levels, throwing in references to all manner of classical and contemporary sources.

I am thus deeply impressed with the stuff this guy makes. In fact, watching a few of his videos yesterday, I began to feel a little stupid: the arguments he was making seemed obvious, yet had not occurred to me before he put them. His knowledge is not only wide ranging, but rich and deep. He puts me to shame. Yet this impressive knowledge is communicated, not in prose, but in chatty videos, expertly edited to include all kinds of references. It is that combination of style and content which interests me: a new type of engagement with film, and a new way to display that engagement.

No wonder the Outers are up in arms today. While I didn’t see Obama’s speech, I just read this Guardian account of it. He burst so many bubbles, dashed so many of their fanciful hopes, that they have little choice other than to try to play it down. I, on the other hand, think Obama spoke a lot of truth: leaving the EU would lessen Britain; we would go from being a prime player in a community of nations to an inwards-looking, irrelevant little nation who cut itself off from it’s main trading partner. Far from trading directly with countries like america, we’d largely be ignored: America et al would just forget about us and deal directly with Europe. This isn’t to try to play down Britain, but to simply state quite an obvious truth. The outers can try to dismiss Obama’s intervention all they like – some of their comments get pretty close to racism – but it doesn’t change anything. His advice is valid and sound: stay in the EU and remain an active participant in world affairs; leave it, and become an irrelevance.

I think there’s a good chance I’ll soon be on Google streetview. I was just down at Asda, trying to make myself useful by getting some groceries. On my way back, I noticed an odd-looking car waiting at the traffic lights. It had an odd blue thing on its roof. As I got closer, I realised it was the streetview car. I drove right past it, so I think there’s a reasonable chance I’ll be appearing about here soon – keep checking.

I’m up rather early for me – I haven’t seen a 7am in quite some time. However, yesterday my old fried Charlotte came to visit: she has an interview down in Kent today, and needed somewhere to tay the night. It was great to see her. Last night, we all went up to the o2 for a meal, and had a superb time. The food was awesome, the conversation great. I was able to catch up with news from Manchester (that makes it sound so remote) and generally reminisce. We didn’t get back too late as C had an early start, although as usually happens when I see her drink started to flow – old habits die hard. I just waved her off, wishing her luck and hoping it isn’t too long before I see my old friend again.

I think I’ll just go with the flow today and wish the queen a happy ninetieth birthday. My feelings towards the queen are somewhat contradictory. On the one hand is the question of whether monarchy has any place in the twenty-first century. While I know the queen has no real power – theoretically at least – and the monarchy is just a tourist attraction, it is nonetheless a tourist attraction we spend millions on to maintain. That money could be much better used. Why spend so much tax payers money on keeping a single family, whose wealth and privilege was inherited and not earned, living like…well…royalty? All my leftist instincts say we should do away with the lot.

On the other hand, I must admit I have a soft spot for the queen. She has been a constant throughout most of our lives; she has been there since before I was born, and indeed since before my parents were born. I have to respect someone who is prepared to fill a role she never asked for for over sixty years. However luxurious it may be, just think how many events, openings that is. To be expected to go places, say nice things, and probably have the same conversation over and over again, year after year, must get wearisome. Most of us would have jacked it in years ago. That deserves my respect.

Mind you, I might have thought differently before 2012. Sorry to keep going back to this, but the queens appearance with James Bond at the olympic opening ceremony demonstrated that she didn’t see herself as ‘above’ popular culture. One might have expected her to say ”definitely not”, as if she was too noble or high born.

Instead, she was game. As I wrote here, I feel that that is worthy of my respect. It changed our relationship with the monarch; it made her seem less distant or remote. It showed she knows about the stuff we like. More personally, it also echoes the parachute jump from the Spy Who Loved Me, which I wrote about in my masters thesis – I love that the two are linked.

Thus while I know what I’m supposed to say about hereditary monarchy being an utter anachronism which we need to do away with, I can’t help liking old Liz. She has always been there – a comforting constant throughout our lives. She is like David Attenborough on the TV, ashes cricket, or the towel which you brought from your parents and remember being dried with as a child. Whether my attitude about this will change when the queen finally goes remains to be seen, but for now I’ll just wish her majesty a very happy ninetieth birthday.

Huge Attenborough fan that I still am – Richard and David – I think I must flag this quite incredible story up. Although I’ve often heard about Sir David’s famous Zoo Quest Series, I have never seen a full episode. It was his first work with the bbc, from 1954, and was shot in black and white. According to that report, however, ”when footage [of the original program] was unearthed by the BBC Natural History Unit last year it was found to have been shot in colour.” Sad film and TV geek that I am, I find that thrilling: not only are these programs often said to be milestones in British broadcasting history, but they also mark the beginning of the career of one of the few people one can truly call great. Better still, the unearthed programs will now air on bbc Four on 11 May.

I never got into Game of Thrones. I know I should have: it is a huge part of mainstream culture, and, fantasy and sci-fi geek that I purport to be, I should have sat down to watch it from beginning to end, but that would have meant making an effort to go get the DVDs, sitting down to watch them on a regular basis, and, well, you know…Anyway, I sort of lost interest once they killed off Sean Bean’s character at the end of the first season.

Nonetheless, today I just want to flag this interesting Irish Times piece up. Apparently, people are starting to compare Game of Thrones to Lord of the Rings, asking which is better. Fans of Game of Thrones say their text is more nuanced, complex and multi-layered; whereas in Tolkien’s work characters are either entirely good or entirely evil. While I see where they’re coming from, as the article points out, it’s not quite that simple. There’s plenty of nuance in Tolkien’s dramatis personae: look at Gollum, for one. How much more torn and schizophrenic can a character get? Then there’s Boromir, a good man brought down by sheer temptation. Thus, if you look at the text properly, I don’t think the accusations of simplicity and reductivism hold.

Besides, I don’t think such comparisons are useful. They always crop up in fandom, of course, most famously in the Star Trek Vs Star Wars debate. Yet the two are separate texts; they differ in style and form, and tell us different things. Both may be works of fantasy, but they were written in different eras and styles. LOTR was born of the wreckage of the first and second world wars, whereas GOT is more contemporary. Thus for GOT fans to try to start criticising LOTR for being too reductive, and to try to say theirs is somehow superior, strikes me as childish. In fact it reminds me of the Ghostbusters vs Turtles fights I used to have with my school friends when I was about five. We should instead ask what either text reveals of the human condition in it’s own right.

I think I’ll just flag this video from jeremy Corbyn up today (sorry it’s on facebook). It might just be my imagination, but the tone Corbyn uses in it is quite different from usual political vids. There is an urgency to it; a seriousness. It’s as if he no longer wants to play the game or muck about: what the tories are doing to the country, in destroying public services and the NHS; in ruining education and making schools compete, forces us to move beyond normal etiquette. It’s as if he’s suggesting we rise up, although he doesn’t say how. I agree entirely: this has gone beyond waiting for the next election. Day after day, I see reports of people dying due to the tories’ cuts; people are suffering because these stains on humanity want to cut taxes for their rich friends. Something has to be done [b]now[/b] – the tories have to go!

Another reason for me not being up at the protest yesterday was that I had plans to go to the BFI. Dom suggested going up there during the week: they are currently having a Shakespeare on Film season, and he thought it might be cool to go check it out. I heartily agreed, so yesterday he and I made our way up to the Southbank (another part of the capital I just love) to watch Roman Polanski’s classic, Macbeth.

I studied Macbeth for GCSE English, and this film had been mentioned then, but until last night I had never seen it in it’s entirety. It struck me as a masterpiece: while I think Polanski changes the scene sequence a little, it is a very faithful adaptation. I found myself reciting many lines as the actors were saying them, and was surprised how much I remembered. Then again, it is a very memorable text with a lot of dark imagery, which Polanski translated well to screen. There is quite a bit of gory violence, and zombified witches shown in the nude. In fact, it struck me that it went well with having seen Lyn’s new video earlier in the day; there were a lot of similarities in terms of aesthetic, and they seemed to complement each other in my mind. Yesterday for me was a very goth sort of day, it seems.

I had not been sure what Dom would make of it. He’s from Poland, and I was worried he would struggle with the Elizabethan english. However, he seemed to cope, and in fact said he recognised many things from Polish literature in the film. That would make sense, given Polanski is Polish. For me, it felt good to both reacquaint myself with a text I got to know as a teenager, and to see a classic piece of cinema. We both came out of the BFI having liked what we’d seen, then, and after a quick drink at the bar, were making our way home, resolving to go there again soon.

Forces of darkness, come hither! Prey go here, to Lyn’s latest music video, Bohemian Grove, a deliciously dark piece and one of her best. Quite where she got this new Satanic streak from I know not, but it’s one of her most expertly and artfully constructed pieces. The fusion of deep, oppressive music with some frankly quite disturbing imagery is perfect.

I’m currently seeing reports on Facebook of another large anti-Tory protest up in central London. The impression I’m getting is that it’s even bigger than the one last week, but that’s just going by what I can glean online. Thousands of people are apparently calling for CaMoron’s resignation. My chair is currently having it’s battery replaced, otherwise I would probably be there with them. The strange thing is, there’s not a word about it on the bbc website; you’d think they would be eager to cover such massive popular uprisings, if just to maintain their position as the uk’s primary news source. But then, we all know that the tories will want to keep this quiet, and that, post Hutton, the Beeb knows it has to behave itself. Thus I doubt we’ll be seeing much about these protests from the bbc or any of the mainstream broadcasters (and they say we are a democracy – ha!) but at least we can go to RT to see what is really going on. It’s just dismaying to see this news being subdued in the mainstream.

I think I need to flag this fascinating and well-argued Guardian piece up. It is an outline of neoliberalism, arguing that this small-government, individualist ideology is the root cause of most of our problems today. That’s pretty self-evident, when you think about it: a system which promotes deregulation, a minimised state and encourages greed while blaming the most vulnerable people in society for their own woe is bound to lead to a massively unequal society where natural and human resources are utterly abused. The problem is, until we stop caring only about ourselves and see ourselves as one society, valuing each person’s contribution however small, I don’t see neoliberalism ending.

I have given up watching Question Time as it was getting too agitated. I was getting so pissed off every Thursday evening that I was on the verge of breaking something. Such apploplexsysms of rage weren’t good for my heart, and led to Lyn giving me curious, disapproving looks. It seems I was right to stop, as this clip from last night’s show might well have had me destroying the TV. In it, a woman from the audience calls Tory scumbag Daniel Hannan up on tory cuts, outlining the damage and suffering they were causing while the wealthy were getting a tax cut. The venom, sadness and anger in what the lady was very obvious; but instead of apologising for causing so much harm as anyone with a shred of humanity would, Hannan tried to blame the EU for his crimes. While we contribute to the EU budget, the investment the UK gets from being a member is worth more, so for him to try to deflect the anger he and his party are rightly due onto his hate figure is utterly crass. The tories refuse to even acknowledge that what they are doing is hurting people who cannot defend themselves. He was trying to manipulate the audiences anger for his own ends – the EU has nothing to do with cuts born entirely of the tories’ greed-based, inhumane ideology. I’m deeply ashamed that we now have such insults to humanity governing the country.

Quite a bit is being made of Jeremy Corbyn’s change of attitude towards the EU; some say it shows a lack of integrity. Yet I think people are allowed to change their minds, especially on issues like this. When one has read and thought about something, to stick fervently to your original opinion is much more dangerous. Thus I was glad to listen to the speech the Labour leader just made: it was, I thought, a well-argued outline of the benefits our membership of the EU brings us, with a few criticisms of the tories thrown in. I agree that we should have an international outlook. As I wrote yesterday, coming together in partnership is the only way to solve the world’s problems. Corbyn put it much more eloquently though, so go check out his speech.

I think I’ll flag this fascinating documentary on the history of the EU up. I didn’t watch it when it aired last night, fearing it might throw me into a rage, but now that I have, I found it fair and balanced. EU history is much more complex than I thought, and while I’m still very much pro-EU, it has given me pause for thought: I knew nothing, for example, of de Gaulle’s betrayal of the UK or the arrogant, shitty things he said about us.

Even so, I’m still an ‘us’ kind of guy. There is something intrinsically noble about the people of a continent growing beyond their history to work together. We need to stop seeing ourselves as separate: Brits are not exceptional – no one is. We are different but equal; we have the same fears and needs. We face the same problems which we must work together to solve. While we have our cultural differences which need to be preserved, I don’t think our political union will lead to a paneuropean monoculture: the english will still play cricket, the french will still play patonc. Nor do I think that this some kind of conspiracy to foist a worldwide dictatorship on us all – as soon as that begins to happen, there would be mass rebellion. This is about accepting diversity rather than destroying it; and the first step towards acceptance is union.

As I mentioned earlier my wheelchair is being repaired so I can’t go out on my daily cruise. Left twiddling my thumbs, I was mucking about on the web earlier; I suddenly thought I’d check out the reviews of Monty Python Live on IMDB, to see what people had said about it. To my surprise, many were quite negative: people hadn’t taken to it at all, and were left cold and unenthusiastic. For instance, one reviewer notes ” Despite all efforts to imply the opposite, this largely felt like a troupe of rusty old-timers stammering their way through the material of their youth, minus the power, sincerity and resounding cultural relevance of their heyday.” That, of course, contrasted very strongly with my impression of it – to me, that show was one of the most wondrous things i’ll ever see.

That mismatch struck me as odd, but then something interesting occurred to me: these reviewers were talking about watching a recording of the show, whereas my impression was interwoven with the memory of actually being there. I was thinking about something I had experienced whereas they were criticising something more akin to a filmic text. While I saw it from one position way back in the audience, they witnessed it close-up from many camera angles – the artistic choice of a director. In effect, we were talking about two different things. An obvious question arose: what if I were to try to rewatch the show as a film? Would I reach the same conclusions the online reviewers did?

I asked Dom to put the DVD in my computer and sat back. I tried to put myself in the shoes of someone who had not been lucky enough to be there that night, and was watching the show as a film. On one level, I saw what these critics mean: as a film it is rather dull. It boils down to five men rehashing material they first performed forty years ago interspersed with dance routines. Looking at it objectively, there was nothing particularly new or novel in the show – not much apart from a few little tweaks and the sketch with Stephen Hawking we had not seen before. It lacked the edginess and audacity which got Python it’s name. Had I not been there on the night, could I be sure I wouldn’t have been just as negative?

Yet that question is not possible to answer. The fact is I was there and, watching the DVD this afternoon, I couldn’t divorce the two experiences. I kept thinking back to that night in 2014, and what I was thinking at certain points in the show. For instance, I initially thought john Cleese had needed prompting during the parrot sketch, but what I couldn’t see from where I was sat was that he broke off because the table in front of him was moving. Hence rewatching it added to my enjoyment, but that joy always referred back and stemmed from the fact I was there to watch it live.

I still count that night as one of the greatest moments of my life: I am so lucky to have been there; to have found this troupe, whose comedy i’ve loved since childhood, suddenly performing on my doorstep. I find that, as well as the luck of having moved to Charlton in time to see them, astonishing. For me the DVD functions as a souvenir of that night – a reminder, rather than a text in itself. It reminds me of the sheer joy I got from being there, surrounded by so many people, watching these men perform sketches I never thought I would see live. There was an aura in there: a deep nostalgia and love which no DVD viewing could ever convey. Just as Keathley describes how the early cinephiles valued certain films because they were rare and hard to obtain, I cherish having seen Python Live because I know it is a unique experience. One can put a DVD on any time you want, so it loses that specialness. Thus while some viewers of the dvd might not be as taken as I was, they have an objectivity I can never share, just as I have a passion they cannot have. Old timers rehashing old material they may have been, but that misses the point: that night was about affection, nostalgia, and something I cannot name. If it is viewed as a film, one could be critical of Monty Python Live; but to me it is a memory, an event – something incredibly special, and far more than a film. I was lucky enough to actually be there, watching these comedy gods bid farewell, and I will always get joy from being able to say that. Yet it interests me to start to analyse how the different modes of reception can effect how one sees the same event,

All I have to say about this is, ‘I want one!’ Engineers in Germany have created a Volocopter – a small helicopter with 18 rotors, so stable that anyone can fly it. Imagine whizzing around London in one. It would certainly beat my wheelchair, especially given it’s currently being repaired. If my experience of helicopters is anything to go by, it would be awesome. Mind you, the problem is it currently only has a 25 minute battery life, and besides, where would we keep it?