When I watched Monty Python last year, I presumed that, in terms of shows, things couldn’t get better. I had just watched the greatest comedy troupe play live virtually on my doorstep, thirty years after they had last performed together, in a reunion virtually everyone had thought impossible. How could you possibly top that? You can’t! I now rank that night up there with meeting Sir Patrick Stewart and watching Lyn play at the paralympics as one of the great events of my life. The only similar thing which could get close is if, say, Guns N’ Roses got back together and went on a world tour, and that isn’t gonna happen…

Or is it? I just came across this piece in the Mirror: ”Legendary rockers Guns N’ Roses are in talks over hitting the road next year on a money-spinning reunion tour.

Frontman Axl Rose, 53, and lead guitarist Slash, 50, have buried the hatchet after years of feuding and now look set to perform together for the first time since 1996. Promoters reckon a series of worldwide gigs with the classic line-up could make the musicians an estimated £65million.” While no details have yet been released, I’m sure a London gig is very likely – possibly even at the O2; and if they are going to play her, just try to stop me getting tickets. As when I got wind that Python were reuniting, this is certainly a story I’ll be keeping an eye on.

I went to the pub for the first time in weeks. My friend Luke and his mum sally invited me to ta get together at the George V in woolwich. To be honest I was in two minds about going: I’m still abstaining from alcohol, and I knew he temptation to have a beer would be enormous. But it had been ages since I had seen luke and sal, and I was keen to maintain a good friendship, so after a good dinner I set off.

At first silly me went to the wrong pub, but a few frantic message exchanges put that right. Sally was there already, and it felt great to see her. I think she was taken aback when I told her I’d be sticking to coke, but after I explained my reasons she understood. Luke got there with his new PA shortly after and, after saying hi, went straight to the bar to get a round. A pint of bitter was soon placed in front of me – it took all the willpower I could summon not to put my straw in and start to suck. A voice at the back of my head kept saying ”just one, just one”; but I knew that one would lead to two, two to three, and before you knew it I would be repeating the trouble of a month ago. That could not be allowed to happen, so I stuck to my Coke.

In the end it turned into a cool evening. We had a good long chat: Luke’s now at college doing an ITC course, and was very proud of his new student badge. When the time came for me to go, sally gave me a big hug – she’s having a bit of a rough time right now, so, she said, it was good to see me. I said we should meet more often, and she agreed.

I rolled home happy to have seen them, and rather proud of myself for sticking to my guns and not drinking beer. I got in about half eleven; I think Lyn was a tad surprised to see me still completely sober. It just goes to show you don’t have to drink to have a good night out. But I think that is the way to go, and this morning, totally hangover free, I’m now thinking up ways to see Luke and Sally again.

I didn’t bother to name my last chair. It was a low, unnimble Volt with a footplate designed by a buffoon; I was so untaken by it that I couldn’t find a name for it. In fact I was considering calling it something like Sapoc, for Slow-Ass piece of Crap, but got no further. Yesterday, however, I had a new chair delivered, a Rascal P327, and I was instantly taken by it: although marginally slower than my old, much loved f55’s, it is more nimble than the volt, and impressively agile. In fact by the time I had taken my first proper walk on it to Woolwich and back, I had fallen in love with it.

I decided she needed a name. I decided to continue the tradition of giving my chairs star Trek related names – my F55s were called Defiant and Bat’leth – But what?

Scimitar, after the Romulan (or was it reman) ship in Nemesis? Nice, but that film was a bit crap. Then I hit upon it: Rotarran! I love Deep Space Nine, and the IKS Rotarran was general Martok’s flagship during the dominion war – the ideal name for a swift, agile powerchair. Rotarran it is then – may she bring me honour! Qa’pla! [img description=”undefined image” align=”centre”]/images/new chair.jpg[/img]

Donald trump famously recently boasted about being a billionaire, speaking of his wealth as if it was a major character quality. To that I would reply: ”A thief can become a billionaire if he steals enough.” It occurs to me that such an attitude goes to the heart of everything that is wrong with the right-wing, conservative mindset. To measure the value of a person by his wealth alone is utter folly. I have many good friends – Lyn, Charlie, James, Esther – but I love them for their kindness and warmth, not their wealth. Having a fortune is a sign that a person has been greedy and unscrupulous; that one has pushed one’s way to ‘the top’ over the bodies of countless others. Thus it sickens me that Trump, this selfish, arrogant, disgusting little man, is trying to become the world’s most powerful person, as if having so much money gave hime some kind of innate right to it.

Recently, when I go to bed, as part of my going-to-sleep routine, I’ve been trying to think up scenarios which could be as cool or cooler as Happy and Glorious. If 007 can meet the queen, what other combinations could have the same mind blowing effect? Well, last night I came up with one. Before you say it could never happen, I’d point out that people would probably have said the same of the idea that the queen would one day parachute out of a helicopter with James Bond. If that can happen, surely it’s possible for the Pope to appear with the Monty Python troupe in the Spanish Inquisition sketch. [Devious spastic chuckle]. I know it’s far fetched, and I’m still trying to think up what the pontiff could do in the sketch, but the image of the head of the catholic church alongside Palin, Cleese et al in their red robs and big red hats is one I now can’t get out of my head. How awesome, how hilarious would that be? Of course there would be major hurdles to overcome if it is ever to materialise, this song being quite a big one, but it has to be worth a go.

I was messing around on google streetview yesterday, one of my favourite sites, when I found something cool. I was looking around Oxford when, to my surprise, it allowed me into The Head of the River. Street view now allows users to go into pubs how cool is that?! Check it out. This is good for me as I’m currently off the beer ’till christmas, so this sates my desire for horse brasses and oak beams without me getting into trouble. Not only that, I found I can visit bars I’ve never been: I’ve always wanted to go to Sloppy Joe’s Bar, Key West, Florida since hearing of the Hemingway Legend, and yesterday I did (albeit virtually).

You would think that the UK being reported to the UN for human rights violations would be major news, but there was not a word about it on the beeb’s lunchtime bulletin. According to this Guardian report, ”For the past three and a half years, a handful of people at DPAC have been diligently gathering and submitting evidence to the United Nations, asking it to launch an investigation on the grounds that both the previous coalition government and the new Tory administration have been responsible for ‘grave and systematic violations of disabled people’s human rights’.” The UN is taking these allegations seriously, as there is growing evidence that ‘we’ are bearing the brunt of the damage: ”According to analysis by the Centre for Welfare Reform, disabled people have been targeted by cuts nine times more than most other citizens. It also found that people with disabilities, who make up one in 13 of the population, bore almost a third (29 percent) of the cuts. It was against this backdrop – with people buckling under the strain of fitness-for-work WCA tests and escalating benefit sanctions – that activists sought help beyond the UK.” You know a grave empasse has been reached when you country is being investigated by the United Nations; but what shocks me almost as much is that there is not a word about it on the TV news – forget Corbyn at PMQs, this should be the top story.

Lyn’s awesome new EP, Treacherous Sea, is out today. Please go buy it!

[img description=”undefined image” align=”centre”]/images/treacherous sea.jpg[/img]

CaMoron has been deliciously ‘owned’ by Vladimir Putin this morning. According to this Mirror story, in response to CaMoron calling Corbyn a ‘threat to national security’ (as if the p’tahk deserved the authority to decide wha is a threat and what isn’t), Putin – or, rather, the Russian embassy tweeted ”Just imagine UK media headlines if Russian President called a leading opposition party threat to national security?” If that isn’t epic ownership, I don’t know what is. Mind you, it’s also very telling: it goes to show how despotic, authoritarian and dictator-like the tories are becoming, as well as how rattled they are by Corbyn.

I know I don’t go to that many football matches, but this news that ”All Premier League clubs have agreed to improve access for disabled supporters by August 2017” is surely to be greeted warmly. One of the major drawbacks of life with a disability is not being able to do a lot of the normal social stuff others do. Thankfully in recent years things have improved greatly: where you never used to see wheelchair spaces in cinemas, they are now commonplace; you can now get on to busses; more public places are being made accessible than ever before (and, to that end, I might personally have played a role in the installation of this ramp). It’s good to hear that football grounds are at last coming into line with that trend; and, who knows, it might encourage me to go to more matches.

I just came across this great little Paul Krugman piece in the New York Times, where he argues that Corbyn’s election was inevitable as he was the only candidate opposed to the narrative of austerity. Krugman points out that the idea that austerity is necessary or vital is essentially a lie everyone, including all our media, has bought, but which the facts don’t actually support. At last someone – Corbyn – is standing up to it. The question is, why it took so long, and why are others so ready to swallow tory lies.

The obvious choice of subject for my blog entry today is the election of Jeremy Corbyn as labour leader, but truth be told I don’t know what to write about it. Of course, on one hand I’m ecstatic: I thoroughly agree with most of Corbyn’s views. At last we have someone unafraid to stand up to the tories and their lies; unafraid to speak up for the downtrodden and disenfranchised; unafraid to call the bullshit of austerity what it is – merely a cover for making unfairness and selfishness permanent. Yet I just worry about how much he’ll be heard: the right will try to shout him down and call him a socialist (as if it is an insult); they will try to belittle him and call his politics outdated. Already the Mail has vehemently attacked him; the tories claim to be relishing the opportunity to ‘discredit socialism once and for all’, too dim to realise that Corbyn has more humanity and compassion in his little toe than in the entire tory party. Amid this onslaught, I’m not sure Corbyn could ever be elected. Could he ever become Prime Minister, or have we all become irredeemably selfish thatcherites, too wedded to neoliberalism even to listen to him?

I just found some quite important news, predictably ignored by the mainstream media. According to this article on the disability news service, the UN is now investigating the UK government for grave violations of disabled peoples’ rights. The investigation was triggered by Disabled People Against Cuts (DPAC), who went to the UN with a catalogue of human rights breaches caused, in one way or another, by what the tories are doing. It just goes to show that my rants on here aren’t just hyperbole and vitriol: what CaMoron and his minions are doing through their quest to decimate the state has caused pain and anguish for thousands; thousands have already died as a direct result or have been driven to suicide. At last they might face justice at the United Nations.

I popped over to UEL this afternoon to ask if I could be of any assistance to them this year. The chap who runs the RIX centre, Andy, wasn’t there, but I spoke to Mark, his Number One. He seemed glad to see me, and assured me that they would let me know if anything came up. He also told me that the video they had been working on, about the Apex choir, had been finished. You may recall that I mentioned them on here a while ago, having been to a couple of their gigs to help with the film. It is a fascinating group made up of singers with autism. I still wonder whether they could collaborate with the Paraorchestra in some way. Anyway, the completed film can be seen here.

I haven’t seen charlotte since we watched the Cat Empire together earlier this year, but I want to keep my tradition up in wishing her a happy birthday. We chatted briefly online earlier, and it sounded like C is doing well. She told me that she has a new choir to lead, sending my mind back to the awesome music she and the gospel choir made at university – that now seems like a lifetime ago. Whatever Charlie’s doing, though, I’m sure it will be great; and I’m sure she’ll be having fun tonight!

My friend John just got back from Hungary. I just found the following on his Facebook page recalling the love and compassion he was witness to in Budapest. I hope he doesn’t mind me reprinting it here, as it is genuinely one of the most beautiful, humbling things I think I’ve ever read. It also makes what can seem so distant on the evening news really hit home

[quote=”John E”]I have just got back from the Keleti railway station in Budapest where a few days ago clashes between riot police units and refugees took place. Impressions of the evening – sensational; crazy chase after the ball and jostling with syrian kids compensated me the last few days of contact with haters in the internet. Seeing the Hungarians sharing hot drinks, sandwiches and secondhand clothes I forgot about fascist and xenophobic sentiments prevailing in the cyberspace. Budapest is a party-city, so a individual natives (with hands in plastic gloves, indicating that they work as volunteers) sip beer with smiles on their faces, the girls handing out items of need wear mini-skirts: different customs do not pose a problem, and the phrase ”clash of civilizations” again seems to be incompatible with the reality – because after all, it belongs to the virtual realm, it echoes merely in the airwaves – but when a man stands in front of another man, face to face, looking into each others eyes these slogans are no longer relevant … Despite the harsh conditions (because the deeper the night, the cooler), a unique atmosphere pervades annd hits me acutely. It’s the first time I’m in this kind of situation, and I did not know what to expect. ”All we have HERE is given out of LOVE from the Hungarian PEOPLE, not its government” – says inscription on one of the boards. I like it this way! Throw TV in the trash, organize independently, get from the bottom to the top, act – and you can forget about both radicals and xenophobes from distant countries, as well as about those of our own backyard…[/quote]

I know, as a leftie, I’m supposed to be against institutions like the monarchy, and indeed part of me does find it grossly unfair and outdated. Yet I must admit that part of me has a soft spot for old Liz. In a world of constant change and turmoil, she has always been there; for the last 63 years she has been a fixture of British society. I find quite a bit of comfort in that. Thus, on the occasion of the queen becoming this country’s longest ever reigning monarch (some time this evening, apparently) I wish her well. Mind you, it has to be said that I’m only this supportive of the queen because of Happy and Glorious, as it was in that short film that her majesty revealed her more playful, human side. Everyone probably thought that she would be above such things, but in a way in that film she redefines herself as more in touch with contemporary culture than we thought, and, dare I say it, rather cool. It was quite a coup, if you think about it. In 2012, then, the queen earned my respect, and I therefore wish her well today.

My dad popped round for a visit today. My parents are in town, and dad often comes for a cup of coffee on such occasions. As usual we discussed this and that – how the family is doing, and so on. Today we touched upon the next bond theme. I mentioned I had heard Sam Smith might be doing it; dad hadn’t heard of him, and we left it there. Moments after Dad left, though, I checked the news and, coincidence of coincidences, found this story. Smith is indeed doing the theme for Spectre. It remains to be seen, of course, how good a job he does, and I have my reservations. I realise I’m probably being a tad unfair on the guy, but the question is whether an X factor contestant can really match up to the likes of Shirley Bassey, Carly Simon or Tina turner – I have my doubts.

It may be a couple of years old, but Lyn posted a link to this remarkable presentation on her Facebook page, and I thought I’d flag it up here too. Imogen Heap is a musical pioneer who creates sounds using electronic equipment she controls by moving her body. That is, rather than pressing notes on a conventional instrument, she can wave her hand or shake her leg to generate sound. It’s quite fascinating to watch, and utterly postmodern; but what I find especially interesting is how this technology can be used by people with disabilities to create music. While you would probably need fairly good motor control to get something resembling a good tune going on this device, by effectively rendering the space around you an instrument, it certainly helps open up the boundaries of what is possible.

I just came across this rather interesting little bbc article on how people with disabilities are reclaiming the old Victorian idea of the freak show. A group of disabled performers in bristol called Cirque Bijou have come together to perform, showing off their bodies and the differences they have. The pivotal point is, this is something they have chosen to do. Whereas in the past so-called freaks were forced to perform for another person’s profit, these performers have reclaimed the freak role and made it their own; they have reclaimed their bodies. Just as I ironically use the word ‘cripple’ in the title of my blog, they have taken control over what was once a form of severe oppression. From what I hear, performers in the old victorian circuses were quite literally slaves; now, by reclaiming both their bodies and the language used to describe them, the performers – the freaks – have become the masters. Moreover, displaying their bodies in such a way demystifies them, so hopefully this circus would help to remove some of the fear surrounding disability too. It shifts the focus from ghoulish voyeurism to one of admiration. Thus I think this is a great idea, and I wish them well.

This must be the best idea I’ve come across in quite some time. It’s an article proposing we swap Katie Hopkins for 50,000 Syrian refugees, and I wholeheartedly support it. I’ve had enough of that judgemental cow polluting the journalistic discourse with her attention seeking bile; I’d rather feed and support 50,000 desperate people who will probably end up contributing to society. Moreover, in Syria, Perry might learn to keep her obnoxious, baseless opinions to herself. Thus, while this may have started as a joke, it is actually a very good idea.

I think I’ll flag this short video by Mark Kermode on the relationship between books and films up. It is a subject which fascinates me, and I touch briefly upon it in my MA. As the Good Doctor notes, there seems to be a tendency to think a book is always superior to a film. But to me they go hand-in-hand. They are vastly different art forms, but they often complement each other. They can also shed different perspectives on the same subject. As Dr. K notes, a film can inspire one to read a book, or visa versa. All this was first addressed, I need to say, on the pages of Cahiers du Cinema in the fifties and sixties, but it’s good to see Kermode touching upon it once again.

Last night in bed I was thinking about Happy and Glorious. I realise it must seem odd for me to still be so fixated upon it, but this short film intrigues me even now. Part of the reason for that comes from the fact it was so unexpected: who would have thought we would ever see the queen ‘meeting’ James Bond and parachuting out of a helicopter with him? Isn’t she supposed to be above such populist things? It was out of the blue, broke our perceptions of royalty and was very, very cool. At one and the same time, it questioned our perceptions of royalty in a completely surprising way yet said something we all knew about British culture which is always left unsaid. How very British.

That got me thinking: where else might we see a similar breaking? Could anything else, any other combination, elicit the same reaction, the same degree of amazement and surprise? It occurred to me that Japan still has an emperor just as we have our queen; the interesting question is, would Japanese culture allow a similar type of play? Happy and Glorious said something about Britain’s relationship with it’s monarchy; could Japanese culture allow for a similar juxtaposition of reverence and irreverence, tradition and modernity? I don’t know much about Japanese culture, but the impression I get is that it wouldn’t – it is much too reverential and conservative. Then again, one might have said that of British culture before 2012. Thus Happy and Glorious opens up the possibility of such things happening elsewhere: if Bond can escort the queen to the olympics, surely anything else is possible and nothing is out of the question. But what if it is? what if the Japanese see their emperor – who, to them, is more like a god – as above such things? what does that say about their culture and ours; their relationship to monarchy and ours? These are the cultural implications of Happy and glorious which, believe it or not, still interest me. What would be fascinating is if we see a similar stunt in Tokyo in 2020.

I think this video is definitely worth flagging up. It’s a RT interview with Paula Peters, a key player in the disabled peoples’ movement, detailing just how harmful the tory cuts are. As Peters explains, these cuts have cost hundreds of lives, and have pushed many more – Peters included – into states of absolute despair. It is little wonder that the UN is coming in to investigate that insult to humanity IDS and the harm he is doing through his ideologically-driven reforms. I’m just relieved that at least one news channel is covering this disaster; I daresay you would never see such an interview on the beeb these days.

I must say the idea of a disabled people’s party is appealing. Although it might face questions of scope and accusations of being a one trick pony, a party of people with disabilities standing up for people with disabilities may be just what we need. We’re being largely ignored by mainstream parties, shat on my the government. I just came across this interesting Guardian piece about how such a party has been set up in Cordoba, Argentina. While they have faced a few problems, it appears to have been largely successful, albeit on a small scale. It makes me wonder whether the time has come for such a party here. Mind you, it would probably face many of the problems the movement has at the moment, with a pushy, authoritarian few presuming to speak for the many. Then you have the problem of who is eligible to enter

The summer is on the wane, and autumn’s coming

Yet, sat here in our garden with you, I couldn’t be more content.

The distant rumble of the city goes on, but here there is

Silence, as I watch you drift in and out of an afternoon doze.

Beneath my feet, grass, wet and green; Above, the sky blue but speckled with cloud

The tweets of birds and rumble of planes.

But, here, now, all that exists is this quiet moment of calm

No traffic, no planes, no city.

Just you and I, the wet grass

Our love, and the waning summer.

It may be my imagination, but there has definitely been a change in the air. It’s as if, with the onset of the Embers of the Year, everything as suddenly become much duller and grimmer. As if with the coming of autumn everyone has hunkered down and gone back to work; settled into the usual humdrum routine that will last until christmas. I was just at the local special school asking if I could volunteer, as I’ve done every year for the last five – my version, I suppose, of returning to work. I know I shouldn’t feel so glum – after all, the metropolis has a habit of throwing up nuggets of awesomeness when you least expect – yet, with the sky so cloudy and bleak, it feels like the city has returned to a routine which, while reassuring, is ultimately very dull. Having said that, I thought the same this time last year, and look what awesome things followed.

People are dying due to the cuts; day after day I see reports of the suffering the Tories are causing through their ideological war on the welfare state. The UN is coming in to investigate the harm, the breeches of human rights, the cuts are doing, I read. Yet, as if to spit in the face of those he is hurting, I just saw on the news this evening that the son-of-a-p’tahk Osbourne has announced he’s spending half a billion quid on the renewal of trident, a system whose only purpose or use is to kill. How can they be so stupid, so arrogant, so callous to the thousands who are suffering? The tories have sunk to a new low, and words fail me.

I’m pleased to report that I’m having something of a productive bank holiday: I’m at last working on my script again, and have already written about four good pages. However, when it turned four I checked the headlines, and found this story. Kanye West apparently intends to run for president in 2020. Now, while I’m not a big fan of West’s music, I have nothing against him as a person, yet I can’t help finding this idea absurd. Rapping is one thing, running a superpower quite another. What, apart from arrogance and ego, makes West think he’s up to the task? Of course, I could be wrong; after all, if George Dubya Bush can run America, so can anyone, including farmyard animals. Yet part of me is concerned that we might all be confusing celebrity for wisdom, and assuming that because someone is famous and raps about important topics, they would make good leaders. They don’t always go hand-in-hand, and I’m slightly worried that this is a sign of how vacuous and celebrity oriented western society is becoming.

It’s one of those days where you just feel subdued. I just got back from one of my walks, having been invited to a local cricket match. I didn’t stay long there, but went for a short roam round the streets. It’s not raining, but rather grey, giving the place a miserable, lethargic feeling. It’s the type of day where you start to miss summer. But I’ve come back to find Lyn cheerfully looking at pictures of music equipment on Her computer, her chuckles seemingly brightening the room; and it turns out that the sleep problems I was worried about yesterday are no more than a sign I’m getting old. A grey sort of day it may be, and autumn feels like it’s on the way; but coming home to a house full of laughter, far from the darkening urban sprawl outside, one can’t feel too down.

I note Bill O’Really* has been at it again. Last night I came across a video of him trying to pin the recent shootings in the States on the rise on Atheism, claiming that, because people are moving away from religion, society is losing it’s values and moral compass. Of course, Bill, don’t question the easy availability of firearms; try to pin it on your own gripe and use this horrific act to justify your own oppressive dogma. After all, nobody who believed in god ever hurt anyone. Seriously, how this absurd loud-mouth idiot ever got into a position of authority where he can espouse his ridiculous views is beyond me. What I find amusing, though, is that O’Reilly clearly holds himself in such high regard, not realising he is in fact the laughing stock of the entire world.

*Not a typo – a deliberate play on his name.

I did not sleep very well last night. It was weird: at about 4am I woke up (just when Lyn was coming to bed) and from then on, every time I felt myself going into REM I woke myself up. A similar thing happened the night before. I don’t know what, if anything, could have caused it; believe it or not I haven’t had a beer in a couple of weeks, so it can’t be that. It’s probably nothing, and no doubt soon I’ll be back to sleeping like a log; yet the episode about my absences taught me not to ignore such things; they might not be as insignificant as I’d like to assume. If this persists, then, I’ll check it out, probably first by consulting Mum. Yet it probably won’t, and all being well tomorrow I’ll wake up my usual time fresh as a daisy.

There is a strange habit I’ve noticed many people with cerebral palsy have – myself included – which I call ‘squealing’. Whenever I feel particularly excited or happy about something, I let off odd little spasms of glee, strange cries and laughs, They can happen at any time, depending on what I’m thinking about, so it must look strange to someone close by.You think about something you find cool, and something in you wells up and you can’t help letting it out. That’s what I meant here when I wrote that I was looking for something new to squeal about: I need something new to find joy in, to make me smile, to give off odd, random yelps of happiness people without CP probably just suppress.

There’s something strangely interesting about yesterday’s news about someone filming themself shooting someone. It would seem to say something about the society in which we now live. The way in which the killer wanted his horrendous act filmed seems to me to imply that it could only be real if it was recorded. It’s as if, in Lacanian terms, the Real and Symbolic are merging; as if the killer wanted to secure his deed in the collective memory, on the web. We see this in other areas too: more and more, people are uploading anything and everything – videos to Youtube, pictures to facebook – to cement an event online for posterity. It is as if we have all become insecure about the passing of time, and want to make it stop; we seek to cling to the past by rendering it into the online Symbolic, apparently desperate for others to witness it too. Yesterday’s killings were, of course, an extreme example, but it seems indicative of a very modern mindset: the desire to cling to ‘now’, the present, passing moment by rendering the real info the symbolic and making it available for all to see.

I may have been having a bit of a strop last week when I wrote this entry. It is not a sign that one is spoiled to ask for the support you think you need – of course not! In fact, if every disabled person was automatically awarded twenty-four hour support, it would go a long way to solving the country’s unemployment problems. And, to tell the truth, there have been times late at night when I’ve wished there was a PA around. While part of me still worries about the attitude of entitlement some people with disabilities seem to have, I also resolutely support an individual’s right to ask for the support they need to live independent lives. After all, only with the right support can one most efficiently contribute to society.

I just found this short humorous video by Michael Palin on his new Youtube channel. A keen diarist, Palin talks about how he has kept a diary for almost fifty years. What caught my interest is the relationship between that and my own practice of blogging: it’s not too dissimilar from me tapping an entry on here every day or two for the last ten years. Yet there are differences: whereas a diary is a record of personal, day-to-day events, a blog can combine this with reactions to what is going on in the world in general. You can write very personal things in diaries which, in a blog entry, might get you in trouble. Also, whereas Palin says diaries are ‘honest’ because you don’t go back and edit past entries, blog entries can be edited after they are posted. I used to try not to, but I’ve added or deleted stuff from entries I wrote years ago. Does that make my blog dishonest? I don’t think so – one’s feelings about things can change over time, so, because it is public and readable to others, one sometimes feels the need to go back and edit. It’s an interesting dichotomy: I suppose in a way blogging is an evolution of diary-keeping, an it’s interesting to reflect upon the relationship between the two.

These days if ever I feel the need to give myself a quick boost, I just think about all the awesome things that have happened in the last few years. The Olympics, Python, Star Trek, graduation – all these things are so special to me. Yet they were all a while ago, so now I think it’s time for another bit of awesomeness. What this awesomeness will be I don’t know, and of course it’s not as simple as willing one into existence – they are special because they are once in a lifetime experiences, rare by definition. But this is London: a place where incredible things happen. There’s bound to be a concert or gig or event which will again have me squeaking with glee and wondering how I could be so lucky to experience it. That’s part of the magic of the city.

While I’m not entirely convinced that Shirley bassey would be the best choice to do the theme for Spectre – although she has done some of the best Bond Themes – I think I need to flag this video up, simply because of it’s sublime and highly amusing editing. Some of the cutting is awesome! It’s also evidence of just how good socalled amateurs are getting at creating videos. Enjoy!

The Daily Mail is at it again. Today it has published a blatantly biassed, utterly baseless rant against Jeremy Corbyn. How this insult to journalism can publish such crap staggers me, almost as much as how people can be dim enough to read it. It is a ‘what if Corbyn was elected’ piece, predicting all kinds of ‘horrors’, as if a fairer, more equal society is something to be avoided. I suppose if you care only about yourself and thin poor people deserve their fate – that is, you possess the arrogant, infantile mentality of the average Mail reader – it is. But I for one am getting fed up of them publishing such bollocks. True, under the principal of freedom of speech, they are free to print what they like; but under the same principal I am free to zoom down to Charlton village, declare myself a dragon and demand everyone pay homage to me. What the Mail publishes is hate-filled baseless crap intended to promote a selfish, right-wing worldview. It’s attack on Corbyn today proves what a rag it is, and it has no right to spread it’s lies. It is nothing but pollution in the stream of journalistic discourse.

I Am currently on a bus back from my bank. There’s an odd, ancient feel to this place, as if one can still detect what was here before it became part of a vast metropolis: the villages and hamlets. At the same time there Is a modern, vibrant, multicultural feeling to this place: woolwich, for example, is full of Islamic and African shops. This causes a juxtaposition of ancient and modern, British and foreign, which is fascinating, and adds to my love of London. To be able to detect the fields and farmsteads that must once have been here amid the modern, vibrant maelstrom gives the city an energy unlike anywhere else.