I know I finished it over a year ago, but I love the fact that it’s possible for me to see echoes of my Masters thesis in my day to day life. A few days ago I noticed that I can see things which remind me of my greatest achievement. For example, at one point in my thesis I write about the ending of Jurrasic park; about how, when the characters are flying away from the park, they spot a bird. Obviously the point of this bit of film was to note that birds evolved from dinosaurs; but or me, now, every time I see a bird in flight in the sky it puts me in mind of my thesis, reminding me of what I’m capable of. I also get a great big kick from watching star Trek The Next generation: obviously I’ve seen all the episodes before, but every time I see Patrick Stewart come on screen, it feels wonderful to be able to cry out ”I’ve met him!” I also absolutely adore the fact that danny Boyle chose to echo the union jack parachute jump from the opening of The Spy Who Loved Me at the olympic opening ceremony in 2012. It is a link I find glorious. To see a moment of film I love and looked at in possibly the greatest thing I’ll ever write reused at such an enormous event – an event which will never come again, but at which Lyn performed at – is something I derive an inordinate amount of joy from. The fact that the opening of the Spy Who Loved Me was used as part of a type of textual play makes it highly relevant to my thesis, given that in a way it illustrates precisely the fusion of fandom and cinephilia I discuss; one of my cinephiliac moments used in a type of textual play – you couldn’t get a better fit with my thesis. To be able to see these echoes of my MA work in my day to day life, to have them remind me of what I’m capable of if I put my mind to it, is something I get find enormously satisfying.

I just read the first chapter of Go Set a Watchman, having whizzed down to our local WH Smiths to pick up a copy. I apparently contributed to a record, as the book sold 105,000 copies on it’s first day, and is on track to become one of the fastest selling books in history. Of course, I can’t give any verdicts yet, but it felt nice, just now on the sofa, to ease back into Harper Lee’s Alabama. As I wrote here a few entries ago, it reminds me of my school days, of Woodford Lodge and GCSE English – a time that now seems half a lifetime away.

It has been sixteen years since I studied Mockingbird. Thinking about that yesterday, I decided to look the old place up: who knew, Mr. Dale might still be teaching there, and it would be wonderful to hear his thoughts on this new book. I found a facebook group; and then, to my astonishment, I learned that Woodford Lodge High School had been knocked down. I do not yet know how or why, but the school where I did my GCSE English and then A-Level English no longer exists. Finding that out was quite strange: I still have very fond memories of walking along the path between my Special School and that place, as well as fond memorie of my lessons there. Knowing that once thriving, bustling place is now a pile of rubble is odd, and I feel rather lie Jean-Louise Finch returning to small town Alabama after being in new York for twenty years.

Have you ever come across something which you hope to zark is ironic but fear might not be? I just watched a program about Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen and I couldn’t work out whether it was a study of a deluded c-list celebrity who genuinely thought he had some kind of image and cache as a designer, or whether it was all a show and Llewelyn-Bowen was putting on an ironic act. I really hope it was the latter, as, if it as the former, Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen must be the most repugnant, arrogant, self-deluded prick ever who certainly did not deserve the airtime of a documentary about him. I cannot believe anyone could truly be as arrogant as he was in this bbc program; he had a phenomenally overinflated sense of his celebrity and significance, seeing himself as an important designer and doyenne and not just some flouncy bloke who was on a few crappy tv shows twenty years ago. Then again, the joke would be on him if that was the case, as that would make the point of the program be to laugh at him. Indeed, the cringeworthy self delusion was very reminiscent of Ricky Gervais’ David Brent. I thus find myself intrigued: was this a program about a man who deep down knows he’s a has-been, or a cruel mocking of a has-been who does not realise he is a nobody.

I don’t often watch ITV except for the occasional bond film or football match, but last night I tuned in to Trans-Siberian Railway with Joanna Lumley. Being a firm fan of Michael Palin Travelogues, I wanted to see how the two compared, and I must say I’m in two minds. The program itself was perfectly fine: Lumley makes an amicable travel presenter as you might expect, and some of the scenery she was passing through really was stunning. I find the idea of one railway track passing through the whole of Asia, from east to west, compelling. Yet I can’t help thinking this was just an ITV imitation of a BBC program, or Lumley trying to elbow herself in to Michael Palin’s territory. The shooting stye and shot selection were pretty much identical, for example. There’s room for both, of course, and I’ll watch virtually anything which shows you far flung places and beautiful scenery; but the concept of ‘well-loved comedian sent to exotic places to make travel show’ just reeks of ITV trying to nick a well-loved bbc idea for it’s sunday night schedule – it just seems crass and lazy. Nevertheless, I’ll continue to watch: imitation or not, the scenery is stunning and the subject fascinating,

After finding this bbc article on it, I’m now even more eager to get my hands on a copy of Go Set a Watchman. As I said a couple of days ago, I’ve love To Kill a Mockingbird since school, but according to this article, Lee’s new novel recasts Atticus as some kind of bigot. Like many, I’ve aways sen Atticus as an emblem of liberal tolerance and reason, so this news comes as a shock. Mind you, as the article stresses, Lee’s new book should be seen as an early version of TKAM, rather tan a prequel or sequel, in which case I’d be fascinated to see how the two compare. I just hope I’m not heartbroken to find Atticus is not who we thought he was.

I know I’m probably being stupid, and that there’s some good, practical reason why this is not possible, but what’s stopping the world from just forgetting about all these economic issues? As far as I can see, they have no basis in any physical reality but are essentially fiction. Stock exchanges, exchange rates – aren’t they all just extremely complex games people play? If that is so, what’s to stop us from all deciding to start again, to say ”hey, this is getting silly” and wiping the slate clean? Why not forget about who owes what to whom? at the end of the day, everyone owes everyone else something: Germany says greece owes it billions, but Germany owes Greece billions from the war. Given that so many people are suffering due to these financial constructs, why can’t we just cut the crap, se it as the bullshit it is and wipe the slate clean. It seems absurd to me that people are dying due to what are essentially fictional constructs. When I go to the shop, for example, I give people money in exchange for goods; but what is money? It’s just pieces of paper and chunks of metal; it only has value because we collectively say it as value. When the guy in the shop gives me my goods, he only expects me to give him money in return due to a shared social convention. Given that convention has no physical basis – ie, no external cause – why can’t we, in certain circumstances, agree to suspend it? while one should usually pay debts, if so many people are suffering due to this crisis, why can’t we just forget about it.

It is with the greatest pleasure that I direct you here this afternoon. The Guardian has put an extract from Go Set A Watchman on it’s website, Harper Lee’s sequel to To Kill a Mockingbird. I intend, of course, to buy the novel as soon as I can; yet listening to this extract, beautifully read by Reece Witherspoon, I am reacquainted with a voice I first heard almost twenty years ago. To hear the voice of Scout Finch again, now grown up yet still full of the rich Southern wisdom I fell in love with in Mockingbird, makes me happy beyond words. It takes me both to Alabama, where the story is set, and to the path between the special school I attended and the comprehensive where I did my GCSE english – where Mr Dale, one of the best teachers I ever had, first introduced me to a novel I fell in love with and to the voice it’s so good to hear once more.

When he punched the air so euphorically in parliament yesterday, did Iain Duncan-Smith have any idea of how inflammatory his gesture was? I doubt any such act has ever stirred up so much contempt. IDS is responsible for so much hardship and suffering, yet yesterday he welcomed the onslaught of more like a footballer celebrating a goal. Does the man have no tact? does he not realise the suffering he is causing? or does he realise, but have such a warped sense of reality that he thinks he is doing the right thing? whatever the case, it sickens me that such disgusting little men now run the country.

Conservatism is a blight on humanity which needs to be eradicated. It is not, as it’s moronic proponents would like to believe, a valid political philosophy, but a set of childish greed-motivated impulses to be outgrown. We just sat through George Osbourne spewing a complete pack of lies, refocussing the economy so that it benefits only the rich. He and that shit CaMoron dictate to us as if they are superior, when in fact the shits belong in jail for the suffering they have caused. This subhuman criminal wants to cut tax for the rich while the poorest in society suffer. I want a culture which cares for itself, where people look after each other through paying tax and getting help; tories want a society based on greed, where people horde their money and care only abut their selves. Such a mindset needs to be outgrown – it is a blight, holding us back. For all their pretences, tories – party members and voters – are no more than scum. They are worthy only of utter contempt, and their puerile, abhorrent worldview has to be stamped out.

Today of course marks another anniversary of something which happened to london a decade ago, but the contrast with yesterday could barely be more stark. It’s odd to note that, whereas yesterday marked ten years since something truly momentous, today marks ten years since something truly abhorrent. I doubt anyone could make up a greater juxtaposition. As with yesterday, we can all remember where we were when we heard the news; and as with yesterday, I remember posting a blog entry in reaction to it. But unlike yesterday, there’s not much I feel I can write about it today, except that my thoughts are with all the victims of that tragic event.

It has been ten years to the day since I wrote this entry; ten years since, sitting in my old room at uni, I learned that London had won the right to host the 2012 olympics. I remember being elated, but of course, I could never have guessed back then that I would eventually be living in London at the time of the games, or that I’d have a partner who would play at the closing ceremony. It is truly astounding how things turned out. And, needless to say, I still look back on that event with great fondness, especially the ceremonies – hell, you know how obsessed I am with happy and glorious.

I can’t help thinking how different it could have been. If Jaques Rogge had exclaimed ‘paris’ instead of ‘london’, none of that would have happened. Of course, I’d probably still be living in London with Lyn, but Stratford would still be an unregenerated urban wasteland; we’d not have all those memories of Olympic glory; the pararchestra would never come about; and Happy and Glorious, quite possibly the greatest television moment ever, would never have been created. No doubt we’d be debating whether to bid again, and I’d be protesting vociferously on here that we could not afford it amid all the cuts.

No doubt a lot will be said today about ‘Legacy’, or the lack of it: already the beeb is reporting that tessa Jowell has branded the legacy a failure because there are still too few people involved sport. But I think today should be about reflecting on how different it might have all been, perhaps going over a few happy memories; and sparing a thought for paris, who came so close and now have the bidding process to go through all over again.

A couple of days ago, I came across talk of the creation of a musical based on James Bond. As a Bond fan, my initial reaction was to balk at the idea. 007 is a coldblooded government assassin – he does not sing. To make him do so would completely change his image, turning him into a family-oriented bit of fluff with nothing to do with the character Fleming created. It would ruin the whole Bond phenomenon.

Yet, while that is true, you could say that for the franchise to survive it must evolve. Indeed, it has always evolved: every few films, a new actor is cast, bringing something new to the franchise. That is how it has survived for over fifty years, and how it built such an extraordinary cultural niche for itself that bond escorted the queen to the olympics. There is something special about this character, and part of his success stems from his ability to change with the times; would not this musical idea just be another phase in that evolution?

Mulling this idea over yesterday afternoon, I answered that with a firm ‘no’: James Bond does not, and should never be forced to, sing. However, this morning, cuddling up to Lyn just before I got up, I realised something: a major aspect of the franchise is it’s music. Every time a new bond film comes out, there is always debate over who would do the theme song. I laughed at myself for not realising it before: the obvious plan would be to create a stage show from the existing bond themes. In that moment, my attitude to the whole idea changed. I love most bond theme songs, especially Nobody Does it Better and live and let die. If creating this show from the bond themes is indeed what they are planning – and, let’s face it, that would be the logical thing to do – then I would certainly be up for it. It might deviate from the phenomenon Fleming created, but, handled correctly and written wel, it could be awesome.

Let me get this straight: I just turned on the news to hear that, at a time when tens of thousands are suffering due to benefit cuts, Osbourne now wants to cut inheritance tax on homes up to a million quid. At a time when people are starving due to lack of money in the state sector, he tories want to take even more out of it in order to give wealthy families a tax break. How greedy do you have to be to think that that is in any way moral? Yet that piece of shit CaMoron has called wanting to pass on your home a human right in today’s Times. How dare he speak of human rights?! What about the right of people to not starve? what about the right to independence? He can’t afford to renew the ILF, but he can afford to give his rich pals a tax break. He can’t even use his usual (flawed) justification that cutting tax encourages investment. How dare he preach to us and try to justify his greed-based politics as something noble? The arrogance of this subhuman p’tahk astounds me.

I’m now quite serious in calling for something to be done to remove this group of scumbags from power.

Waiting for a taxi, showered and shirted

Ready for a big day, a big meeting, a day with the potential to be great.

Feeling like a proper writer, going to meet his producers

Then, one last email check: ”sorry matt, change of plan”. A postponement, not a cancellation. Not a major set-back, really

But still a deflation.

And all you can do is take your shirt back off.

It has been a long, busy day. As well as volunteering at school and helping out at the Rix centre, I recently applied to become an equalities champion. These are voluntary positions where one advocaes for the rights of a given minority, in my case disabled people. I will be working closely with GAD. I went to a training session on it today, and, voluntary though it may be, it’s quite involved; it will certainly keep me active. Sitting at the training session in woolwich town hall, I felt like I was back at school: the concepts we had to cover were not that neglegable, and being in a more or less classroom setting made me quite nostalgic. A good day then, marking the start of something which promises to be very interesting indeed.

Only the british can spend most of the year longing for summer to arrive, then as soon as we get anything resembling hot weather, we start moaning that it is too hot and longing for the cool. The news was full of it this evening; any temperature over 35 is apparently a major news story. Mind you, I was very amused to find that the word ‘scorchio’ was in wide use: it seems everyone remembers the old fast show sketch to the extent that we now use it as a common reference point. There’s quite a bit I could say about that, and ordinarily I’d analyse it…but it’s way too hot.

I just watched the bbc lunchtime news as usual and was appalled to see that there was nothing about the closure of the ILF on there. As I write, thousands of people with disabilities are protesting in Whitehall. I would have been there too had circumstances permitted. We are fighting for our freedom, indeed our lives, against a group of inhumane p’tahks who think it is more important to lower tax for the rich than to fund independence for people with disabilities. I cannot find the words right now to express my hatred and revulsion for the conservative party: thousands will suffer, yet they don’t give a shit. We’re expected just to sit back and allow these insults to humanity rule over us, preaching their doctrine of greed as if it is somehow noble to be selfish, while more and more people die. The welfare state and the nhs, the two great British contributions to civilisation, will be destroyed by the tories, and we can do fuck all about it – they don’t even allow our protests to be shown on the lunchtime news.

How wonderful it was to watch Sir David Attenborough meet Barack Obama last night. I was entranced. Say what you might about television history, use all the glowing adjectives you like, just to see those men chatting like old friends, putting the world to rights, was sheer joy. Mind you, I also found it very educational: the range of Attenborough’s knowledge combined with Obama’s warmth to draw the viewer in. My only regret was that there wasn’t more of it – the interview only lasted 35 minutes and was interspersed with cut-aways, so I was left wanting more. It was clear that both men were highly intelligent and vastly knowledgable, yet there was little in the way of detail. Oh well, a great piece of tv nevertheless.

(it’s no longer on bbc iplayer. Check it out here)

Lyn and I rarely discuss her financial situation, and I try not to pry much into that area, but Lyn is an Independent living Fund user. She has not said much about how she’ll be affected, and indeed I’m not sure she has received any information about it, but I’m very concerned about what will happen tomorrow. Many people with severe disabilities face severe cuts to their care packages: one need only look at what happened last Wednesday to see how scared they are.

I keep thinking about how wonderful Lyn is and the great things she has done, from the days when she used to come to see me up at uni to going to france together, to playing at the paralympics and the Liberty festival. She is a very independent woman, but when I consider that that independence could now be taken away, if not from her certainly then from many like her, my blood boils. How can the tories be so barbaric? How can they cut tax for the wealthy few while sending ‘us’ back to the institutions? With the right support we can flourish, from doing a masters to performing before the world; the tories would strip that support from us, sending people with disabilities back thirty or forty years in one greed-ridden stroke. I say that without a glimmer of hyperbole: the closure of the ILF means that is a very real prospect – tory lies about replacement funding soothing only the gullible.

Today, sunny though it is, a dark cloud hangs over the disability community. It feels like almost everything we have worked for for so long will tomorrow be take away by the tories, and, try as we might, we are powerless to prevent it.

Apparently a new episode of top gear airs tonight. I expect it to be the last new Top Gear, as frankly I can’t see the program surviving without the original team. Sunday nights won’t be sunday night without that semi-fascist car-oriented anarchy. For some reason we let these men whose views we’d ordinarily find repugnant get away with so much, like a collective guilty pleasure. Something about the antics of Clarkson, Hammond and May appealed to the children in us all. I can’t see anyone replacing them, as the dynamic will be lost. No doubt the beeb will try replacing the team, then shelving the idea and letting it pass into history. Tonight, then, probably marks the end of a television era.

As someone who does not buy into the ‘normal’ binaries of gender, sexuality and so on, I must say I find the news that gay marriage has now been legalised in the US awesome. Paul, our PA today, came in ecstatic about it. As he put it, amid all the bad stuff we hear about on the news, we finally get this glimmer of light; one fragment of progress which restores ones faith in humanity. Mind you, as monumental as this step is, there’s still a long way to go before LGBT people achieve true equality; and indeed it had to get past fervent opposition from right-wing conservatives. We better not be too jubilant, then, but I think we can allow ourselves to smile awhile over this.

I saw an advert for this yesterday, and of course was instantly stunned. On sunday evening, the beeb will air a program in which David Attenborough meets Barack Obama. It promises to be an incredible piece of television; the two great men are said to discuss the natural world, climate change and so on. I suppose it’s quite a coup for the bbc, although it was apparently Obama who requested the meeting. Something to look forward to, then – expect my customary rave on here on Monday morning.

Part of me feels guilty for not having been up there yesterday. A large part of me says that if there was any meaning behind all the political ranting I do, I should have been up in parliament yesterday, protesting, trying to break down the door of the house of commons with my fellow disability activists. Another part of me says I as right not to go; that, had I gone, there’s a good chance I would have lost my head, done something stupid, and would have woken up in a jail cell this morning. In that case, Lyn would have been fully justified in packing my bags and putting me on the next train back to cheshire. I owe it to her to be sensible – well, at least try to.

Yet the fact remains we need to protest. Disabled people are desperate and angry right now, and that desperation and anger need to be shown. I was glad to see news of the protest on both the BBC and Channel Four bulletins last night, yet I noticed the story slipping down the running order as the evening wore on. There was no word if this morning. Thus we need to keep it up. The country needs to be shown videos like the ones here. The truth about the tory cuts, rather than the blatant lies about ‘protecting people’ and ‘ring-fencing funds’ they spout, needs to be told. We need more actions like yesterday, and I hope by the next one to have grown some cajones and be hammering on the commons doors alongside my comrades. I’d just have to tex Lyn and ask her to keep my dinner warm.

I volunteer at school on Wednesday mornings, so turned down an invitation a few days ago to go to an Independent Living Fund protest up in parliament. I had been very tempted to go, but thought I better carry through on my other commitments. I’m now very pleased with that decision. I just checked the headlines and saw this! The crazy sons of bitches tried to storm the commons chamber: ”Protesters have attempted to enter the House of Commons chamber during Prime Minister’s Questions. The group, campaigning against the end of the Independent Living Fund, were prevented from getting in by police.” I’m stunned, astonished, and, I must say, quite impressed.

Further updates no doubt to follow.

Just to post a quick update on one of my favourite topics, I heard today that Paris has entered the race to host the 2024 olympics. I know that won’t matter too much to anyone reading this blog, but forgive a cripple his little obsessions. It just seems to me that one can read a plethora of international rivalries and attitudes into this process: countries compete for national prestige like nowhere else, as hosting the olympics is a huge international status symbol. Given that the french now seem quite desperate to win this time after their beloved capital was rejected three times, I think this contest has higher stakes than ever. They will throw everything into this bidding process, as will, I suspect, the other bidders, giving rise to what promises to be a fascinating competition.

Turning on my computer this morning, I read of the sad news that James Horner, one of the all-time great film composers, has died in a plane crash. Not all that much has been written about the role of music in film, but, when you think about it, it plays a huge part in structuring emotion in film, helping to guide the viewer. Horner’s scores were among the best at that. With that in mind, I’d like to direct you here, to one of his greatest, and a favourite of mine.

I realise that saying this might make me sound a bit screwy, but I can’t help thinking that there is a definite mismatch between how people currently feel about politics and the general election result. Saturday saw a huge anti-government protest in London: the anti-tory feeling was palpable in that crowd, yet just a few weeks ago they won a general election. Given that I doubt that feeling had arisen since the election, or that it was just the protesters who felt that way, I suspect something is amiss with the election result. Has any other government faced so fervent a protest so soon after they were elected? Of course, to say the election was rigged is to cross into cloud cuckoo land, and I’ve seen no evidence that it was, but it’s clear that vast numbers of people don’t want a Tory government, and are very angry indeed at what they are doing. If people are this angry already, just think of the protests to come

I only heard about the protest yesterday in the morning. At first I was in two minds about going, having had one or two bad experiences at protests before. But I told myself I can’t write all this anti-tory stuff on my blog and not follow through with it, so off I set. Fortunately for me, getting up to parliament square is easy – it’s just a few stops on the jubilee line – allowing me to decide such things at such short notice. Once I got there, I found the place thronging with people, including, it was great to see, a large contingent from Disabled People Against Cuts (DPAC). As I noted yesterday, there was a party atmosphere, with people milling about, singing, bands playing and so on. Yet one could also sense a seriousness to it; there was an undercurrent of anger in the air, a fury at the tories and their cuts. I spoke to a few people there, and found I’m definitely the only person who wants the Tories expelled from office immediately. Before long, there were speeches from politicians and celebrities, including a brilliant one by caroline lucas. We heard that, while the tories talk of austerity as a necessity, it’s not necessary at all: the tories have been lying to us as they impose their wholly ideological cuts, as an abusive parent lies to a child as he beats him, saying ”its for your own good.” I came home more angry than ever at what the tories are doing, but also relieved to have found that I’m not the only one who wants the tories booted from office. I’d worried hat we’d all just sigh and just tell ourselves to wait for the next election, like good Brits. Mind you, one must wonder what effect such protests have, and whether it’s just a lot of sound and fury which won’t change a thing.

I have taken myself to the anti austerity protest in Westminster. While I’ll probably write a full account of it tomorrow, I must say, sat here in parliament square, how amazed I am. A quarter of a million people are here apparently. There’s a friendly atmosphere: it’s almost like a party. Yet, beneath, one can sense the anger at CaMoron and his government. Anyway, better stop writing and investigate more.

Now that I can, with great joy, tick off watching the cat empire with charlotte from my to do list, my appetite for music and gigs has been whetted. I think now it’s time for me to look for more great gigs to go to; but now I’ve done so much big stuff, I’m in the mood for something smaller. Venues like the albert hall and o2 arena are awesome, but everyone knows about them: gigs there lack intimacy and personality. I’ll always find the fact that I’ve seen my fiancee play a paralympic closing ceremony, and watched monty python perform, very likely for the last time ever, sources of pride beyond words; but you can’t get much bigger than gigs like that. Having ticked them off, it’s time to go to the other end of the scale. This city is throbbing with small, live music events in the back rooms of pubs or in community halls where one can get a feel for the personalities of the performers and your fellow audience members – I think those are the kind Lyn prefers too. The only problem is, they’re a bit harder to find than the things I’ve been going to, so I better go out and get searching.

Part of me says I just wasted an entire afternoon, although given its my own fault for not checking before i set off, I can’t really complain. Last night on the London news I learned about a summer festival up in Hyde park and, still in a party mood from the weekend, thought I’d go look. I was sure they said it was free entry, and an afternoon like this is too nice to waste. There was definitely talk of free film screenings, which was especially alluring. I set off at about one, taking the tube then the bus. It looked great in the distance, but as I rolled up to the turnstyles I began to see signs about tickets. To cut a long story short it turned out it was £65 just to get in, so I simply turned and headed home – I just wanted a nice, pleasant walk somewhere fun rather than a full-on outing. Oh well; it seems there’s no such thing as a free festival, but at least I had a good walk.

It was great to see Sir David Attenborough on our screens once again last night. This time, he was telling us all about flightless birds in those homely, paternal tones of his. What amazes me is, he started presenting nature programmes before my parents were born, yet he still makes some of the most interesting stuff on tv. That’s why I’ll always make an effort to tune into his programmes.

I cannot help but wonder, though, how many more of his programmes we’ll see. It’s only a matter of time before the inevitable happens, yet David Attenborough’s nature documentaries have been such a constant in British cultural life for so long that it’s hard to imagine there being no more. For now, though, I think we’ll see plenty yet; and if they’re all as fascinating as the one last night I can’t wait.

I got int an argument on facebook this morning over transability: I showed some people on a disability-related forum my recent blog entry on the subject, and they disagreed with it vehemently. They pointed out that I had missed the point: the concept is actually about breaking down the disabled/able-bodied binary I seemed to be wanting in that entry to cling to. I was directed to a quite fascinating video lecture on the subject, and in fact it is about rereading the ‘us and them‘ paradigm I once tried to reread. If you think about it, we are all disabled because we all face disabling barriers; and thus disability can be seen as a transcendable concept. In my blog entry of a couple of weeks ago, I was maintaining a barrier I’ve been trying to break down all my life. Time for me to read more on this subject, and learn to think before I pass comment.

Yesterday was yet another of those truly awesome days which will remain a fond memory for years. To have at last seen The Cat Empire with charlotte, and at a venue as magnificent as the Royal Albert Hall, is incredible. It was C who introduced me to them, and I knew one day we needed to go to one of their gigs together. Mind you, it had been an amazing weekend even before we got there: up to Chester on a train on Saturday; seeing Will perform on Saturday evening (I still can’t get over what an incredible actor he is); the obligatory house party after. Then, yesterday, travelling back down with charlie, heading for the Albert Hall, meeting up with James in a nearby pub and going to one of the best gigs I’ll ever see. I’m pleased to report too that charlie and james got on like a house on fire – but then, I had a feeling those two would match up.

Charlotte stayed here overnight and has just headed off. Going to see the cat empire the first time was cool enough, but what happened yesterday was special to me beyond words. To have at last seen them with charlie, one of my best friends, the person who introduced me to the band of so many awesome nights at uni, feels like something that I really wanted to happen, has happened. To see The Cat Empire with charlie is something I needed to do. There was a moment as we sat in the Hall waiting for the gig to start when I thought, ”Holy shit, how can life possibly get any better?” On top of all the other amazing things I’ve done – watching Python, meeting Patrick Stewart and so on – it just seems nights like last night remind me how great life is. My jaw drops when I think about all the incredible things I’ve done; yet, as Lyn often points out, there will always be something else to look forward to and work towards.

It was through L that I came to this awesome life, and I owe her so much for it. My gratitude extends too to my parents, as it was mum and dad who gave me the confidence and potential to do these marvellous things. It’s mum’s birthday today, and I really hope it is a good one. My mother taught me to hold my head up and go out into the world; it is because of her, because of all the cuddles and chats, flapjacks and life lessons, that I know I can do anything. I thought of her too last night, sat there with my friends. The life I lead is so awesome because of the gifts I got from my parents: it was only due to them that I went to university, where I had the opportunity to express myself and meet wonderful people like Lyn, charlie and james. I know I make them worry sometimes, but I hope they know how great I think they are, and how lucky I feel to have them.

I’m currently sat at the table of the kitchen of the house i once dubbed the burrow. The jones household is as homely as ever: after an epic night in which will Jones revealed himself to be an actor of the most astounding quality, I woke up wondering where I was. Needless to say, the after show party was quite a heavy one. However, after a shower and with a good meal in me, I feel quite perky. Now, though, it’d time to get back to the metropolis for part two of this truly amazing weekend.

I have a feeling this will be a long, awesome weekend. I’m already up, breakfasted and caffeinated, and I’m just waiting for John to arrive to get me to Euston. From there, I’ll get a train to Chester, where I’ll visit charlotte and the jonses. Apparently young (well, not so young now) will has a gig tonight in Liverpool we’re going to see. Then tomorrow it’s back down to the metropolis, Charlie with me. We’ll head for the Royal Albert Hall, where we’ll rendezvous with James and go to a Cat Empire gig. I have a feeling that that will be truly, truly special: I have long wanted to see the cat empire with C. After all, she was the one who got me into them all those years ago at university – she used to put the on as we prepared ourselves for Wednesday night discos. All being well, tomorrow night will be amazing. But there’s a lot to happen before then, and indeed we have to get back here to Charlton after, so I better go get myself sorted (and have another coffee).

I may or may not have described a similar episode on here before a while ago, but this morning, when we got into our living room, Lyn and Marta our PA noticed the mouse trap had been filled. The prism-shaped piece of card was shaking; it obviously had a mouse stuck on it’s adhesive base. L and M didn’t know what to do Marta could not deal with it. We couldn’t leave it there, so I had no choice: on my own I half filled a bucket with water and took it back into the living room. I then pressed the cardboard prism into the water, making sure it was submerged for thirty seconds or so, before taking the damn thing outside, putting it in the bin and tipping out the water.

I instantly felt wretched. I forced myself to do it, but after it was over I realised I had killed a mammal. Last time this happened it was up to me to clout its brain out with a hammer, and I didn’t want to repeat that abhorrent episode. But this time it felt no less base. I may like fictional characters like James Bond, but I am not James Bond – I am not a killer. I felt insecure and disgusted; it is still playing on my mind. I keep telling myself that I had no choice and that I did what I had to do, but I hope I never have to do it again.

I’m suddenly rather sad. I saw a friend mention it on facebook, and checked the beeb. It was true: Sir christopher Lee has died aged 93. While he had a good, long life, to loose such a great actor is always a pity. He was saruman in lord of the rings and Scaramanga in The Man with the Golden Gun, so he was in two of my favourite franchises; not to mention count Docu in star wars. all one can do is sigh; we have lost another of the greats.

This will probably be the first of many blog entries i make on the subject, but I want to state openly and absolutely that I want the uk to stay in the European Union. As far as I am concerned leaving the eu would be a monumental act of folly. It would mean a catastrophic pulling up of the drawbridge; a withdrawal from the world along outdated nationalistic lines. We cannot let such stupidity prevail. That’s not to say I oppose holding a referendum: the sooner its held, the sooner the issue can be put to bed, and the sooner Farage and his bunch of twits are made irrelevant. But of course, that assumes voters make the sensible choice.

I’m not an economist so I can’t even pretend to debate the maths, but every fibre of my being tells me that what George Osbourne will announce tonight is wrong. He arrogantly plans to enshrine his greedy, selfish politics into law by making it illegal for governments to spend more than they receive. While on the face of it, that might sound like a good idea, it effectively makes austerity permanent. We would no longer be able to borrow, so, given that any government will be reluctant to raise tax too far*, it will lead to deeper and deeper cuts. The welfare state will be ransacked; the NHS unsustainable. As noted here it returns us to a victorian mindset, and we all know how much the Victorians cared about the less fortunate in society. Thus, by passing this law, Osbourne imposes his greedy worldview on us all; he would make it normal to see things his way, criminalise trying to care for others. As wise as it may seem, this law will alter how we think by making frugality a norm. If government and the state shrinking, we’d withdraw into ourselves, care only about ourselves: upon seeing a suffering person, we’ll no longer think ”I hope they get help soon” but simply ”tough shit”. By enshrining these ideologically-inspired cuts into law, Osbourne makes tory greed permanent; what that insult to humanity is doing is utterly, utterly evil.

*unless our collective attitude to tax changes and we become more tolerant of contributing to society, which I’d see as a more mature worldview but which the greedmotivated tories no doubt have ruled out.