Really good evening last night
Really good evening last night (got back too late to Blog) - out in Tonbridge at Tim's for his birthday. Chris, Ted and I went down for the evening, and started out sitting in his lovely walled garden, under the apple tree, with robins flying around (catching flies out of the air, the vicious little buggers) - fab.
Company Update
Company Update: Barnaby joined the new company today, so the office is filling up, and everything feels like it's moving in a positive direction.
The American Gods IMHO is
The American Gods IMHO is done (see right).
So, the Bonn summit has ended in cries that the Kyoto protocol has been 'salvaged', which is clearly a new use of the word that's synonymous with 'shattered beyond any hope of recovery'. The world's biggest polluter isn't included because they don't see why they should have to give up their God-given right to rape the planet while asserting their moral superiority over the rest of us, and the overall reduction in emissions might ultimately be as little as 2%.... So we can all breathe easy now then. (As an asthma sufferer, pun very definitely intended.)
Integration(ish)t: So….I’m happy enough to
Integration(ish)t: So....I'm happy enough to call myself 'fag' or 'queer', because I believe that they're just words, that I should reclaim the language of my oppression, and that I'm secure enough in my own identity that I can.
But....do I have to sit quietly then when someone who isn't gay uses this kind of word, not in an aggressive way, but simply as a shorthand: "I used to work with a poof. He was a nice guy; I'd chat about girls I'd picked up; he'd talk about guys he'd met in clubs." Now, I heard this, and I winced, and I would have said something, but I was at someone else's event, and the last thing I wanted to do was make trouble. But where does this comment stand on the scale of offense? Part of me felt offended when I heard it, so I think I'm allowed to take offence, but part of me thinks that the context of the comment was a broadly positive one, just partially expresed in negative language.
Confused. But still offended, essentially.
My recent record for posting
My recent record for posting reviews into the IMHO section of the site has been attrocious, and nowhere near my stated aim to add at least one a week, but this week I'm going to try to make up for it. Now posted is a review of Swordfish, which I saw with Chris and Alison last night, and within the next day or two I'll have one up for American Gods, plus I'm off to see Shrek on Wednesday, so there's two more due up by Thursday at the latest. Let's see if I can then keep on track.....
Driving out into Kent this
Driving out into Kent this morning, we passed signs for the town of Thong. Seriously.
Just thought I'd share; in case people didn't know it was there.
I found out yesterday that
I found out yesterday that I can't yet get an ADSL connection to the flat, though the nice people at British Telecom have *promised* that they're working hard to extend the coverage area....
What a week – Mr
What a week - Mr Portillo departs from frontline politics (admittedly for at least the second time), and Jeffrey Archer gets sent to prison.....
Finally some small indication that might does not equal right, and the buying of priviledge and power has limits. The last time I felt even slightly that there was justice after all where the rich and influential were concerned was when Jonathan Aitken was sent down. I remember the headline on the (understandbly smug) Guardian: "He lied and lied and lied and lied."
Blogger’s been a bit unco-operative
Blogger's been a bit unco-operative recently, so apologies for the rather scattershot approach to logging.
I've been thinking a lot about my past lately. Not in any particularly joined-up way, but just sitting quietly and letting little flashes come to me as they will. Recent flashes have included:
My grandad calling me 'Barney Rubble', and me calling him 'Fred Flintstone' - we did that for years.
Accidentally using a bad word when I was too young to know it was bad (or what it meant) in front of my mother and grandmother.
Walking dogs along the disused railway embankment that ran behind one of our houses.
Driving a bunch of mates to Whitby for the evening the Friday night after I passed my driving test, and eating chips on the clifftop by the abbey, overlooking the harbour.
The moment I realised, at the age of about 16, that I'd finally made a friend.
There are a bunch more, and to be honest, there are a lot more negative ones than positive, but I'm choosing to dwell on the positive today.
Look, don’t even ask -
Look, don't even ask - but I just found myself looking at the British Institute of Embalmers' website. Take a look - 'The History of Embalming' is fascinating.....