Welcome to this month's media review. I haven't read as much as usual this month, mainly because I have been preparing a "nonfiction novel" about the problems I currently face. I have written over 35,000 words, which represents my most intense output in any one month of my life. Shows you what doing a master's in creative writing can do for you...
BOOKS
THE BLACK SPIDER, by Jeremiah Gotthelf.
In mid 19th century Switzerland, a little village does its best to thrive despite the predations of a tyrannical overlord. And when he makes impossible demands of them, they seek the devil's help to fulfil them. Sure, they have to give the devil an unbaptised child in payment, but surely they can find a way to trick him out of what they promised him...
Of course the devil will not be thwarted, and when no unbaptised child is forthcoming, he unleashes a terrible punishment on the villagers; hence the title of this truly terrifying tale.
Written by parish priest, this is both a parable on resisting temptation and an allegory of the plague; whatever, it remains a minor classic of European literature. Highly recommended, though not for those of a nervous disposition...
DEMONS, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky.
Being an everyday story of provincial life in mid 19th century Russia, its nobility, poor and wealthy, the middle classes and the peasants.
As Csar Alexander II attempted to drag Russia into the modern era by emancipating the serfs, socio-political thinkers divided themselves into two camps: the "Westernisers" who wanted to adopt the more liberal attitudes of Western Europe, and the "Slavophiles" who loved Mother Russia and wanted to maintain its traditional identity in the face of these hated "modernisers". Dostoyevsky uses his characters to debate these and other issues in the course of this demanding yet absorbing epic tale.
The strength of Dostoyevsky's writing lies not only in the intricate plotting, but in the totally believable dialogue he puts into his characters' mouths. In this way we can enter this world and become lost in the fields, farms and towns of a Russia at the dawn of a new era.
Give it a go, but only if you have plenty of time on your hands...
Please see next blog for movie reviews
Saturday, 29 July 2017
Wednesday, 19 July 2017
Radiohead to Palestine: Fuck you
At a concert in Glasgow last week, Radiohead lead singer Thom York was seen to look in the direction of a few people waving Palestinian flags and give them the middle finger. That, it would appear, is what he thinks of the Palestinian people and the BDS (Boycott, Divest, Sanction) movement which aspires to isolate Zionist Israel for its apartheid policy towards the Palestinian population.
Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, Justin Bieber, Elton John, The Rolling Stones. The list of massive names who have taken the Israeli Shekel and played in Israel is long and despressing. But for Radiohead to add their names to "The List of Shame" is puzzling. Radiohead has long championed Human Rights causes, notably supporting Tibet in its struggle to liberate itself from Chinese hegemony. But Tibet's kinda trendy, huh Thom? Whereas who cares about Palestine? Palestine isn't cool, right Thom?
Tell you what, Thom York and anyone else who treads on the aspirations of a whole people to free themselves of the yolk imposed on them by Israel: fuck you. You're on the wrong side of history, and people won't forget.
Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, Justin Bieber, Elton John, The Rolling Stones. The list of massive names who have taken the Israeli Shekel and played in Israel is long and despressing. But for Radiohead to add their names to "The List of Shame" is puzzling. Radiohead has long championed Human Rights causes, notably supporting Tibet in its struggle to liberate itself from Chinese hegemony. But Tibet's kinda trendy, huh Thom? Whereas who cares about Palestine? Palestine isn't cool, right Thom?
Tell you what, Thom York and anyone else who treads on the aspirations of a whole people to free themselves of the yolk imposed on them by Israel: fuck you. You're on the wrong side of history, and people won't forget.
Thursday, 6 July 2017
My ally right or wrong
"I'm with you, whatever."
The words of Tony Blair to his "boss", George W. Bush in 2002.
"You can't say that!" Said Sir Joh Chilcott today, speaking for the first time in a while about his report, which at the time, appeared to vindicate Blair. He didn't lie deliberately, was the conclusion at the time, and he re-iterated that today. But, Chilcott reminded us, Blair is above all an advocate, hardly surprising considering his background in the law, and his peruasive powers are, apparently, legendary. (Pity he couldn't have used it to greater effect in Palestine, instead of sitting on his arse in the American Colony hotel in Jerusalem and banking those fat cheques he got for his job as Middle East "Peace Envoy"). He talked the cabinet, the government and eventually the House into doing what he wanted- sorry- what his boss wanted. But he cannot be said to have taken the country with him. The guy on the Clapham omnibus remained skeptical- and he was right to be so.
Blair believed what he was doing was right, bought the fictitious tales that Saddam had WMDs- he didn't, and Hans Blix knew it, but his version was not what Blair and Bush wanted to hear.
Could it happen again today? Christ, I hope not, but do you know what? I think it could- watch out for Trump asking us to join him in a regime change operation in North Korea. We'd be insane to do that, but the US is our biggest ally, and there's that "special relationship", which to Blair meant being Bush's poodle, with him, "whatever"
Pelagius says: Never again! Never again should we follow the US down the road to war, however close our special relationship is. It doesn't mean we should go down the road of madness with a guy following his own twisted agenda. And if you don't think Trump has a twisted agenda, you haven't been paying attention.
The words of Tony Blair to his "boss", George W. Bush in 2002.
"You can't say that!" Said Sir Joh Chilcott today, speaking for the first time in a while about his report, which at the time, appeared to vindicate Blair. He didn't lie deliberately, was the conclusion at the time, and he re-iterated that today. But, Chilcott reminded us, Blair is above all an advocate, hardly surprising considering his background in the law, and his peruasive powers are, apparently, legendary. (Pity he couldn't have used it to greater effect in Palestine, instead of sitting on his arse in the American Colony hotel in Jerusalem and banking those fat cheques he got for his job as Middle East "Peace Envoy"). He talked the cabinet, the government and eventually the House into doing what he wanted- sorry- what his boss wanted. But he cannot be said to have taken the country with him. The guy on the Clapham omnibus remained skeptical- and he was right to be so.
Blair believed what he was doing was right, bought the fictitious tales that Saddam had WMDs- he didn't, and Hans Blix knew it, but his version was not what Blair and Bush wanted to hear.
Could it happen again today? Christ, I hope not, but do you know what? I think it could- watch out for Trump asking us to join him in a regime change operation in North Korea. We'd be insane to do that, but the US is our biggest ally, and there's that "special relationship", which to Blair meant being Bush's poodle, with him, "whatever"
Pelagius says: Never again! Never again should we follow the US down the road to war, however close our special relationship is. It doesn't mean we should go down the road of madness with a guy following his own twisted agenda. And if you don't think Trump has a twisted agenda, you haven't been paying attention.
Friday, 30 June 2017
June 2017 book and film review part 2
BOOKS
BOYS IN ZINC, by Svetlana Alexievich, continued from previous blog.
Try this little extract as a sample:
When a bullet hits someone you hear it; there's no way to forget it or confuse it with anything else - that distinctive wet splat. A young guy you know falls flat down in dust as bitter as ashes. You turn him over onto his back; the cigarette you just gave him still clutched in his teeth. It's still smoking... I wasn't prepared to shoot at anyone, I was still from ordinary life. From the normal world...
- A private, grenedier
What Alexievich shows us with this book is that the genre of "creative nonfiction" can, if it is good enough, ascend to the status of high art. Which this does. This book is not easy to read, not because of its style, which is eminently readable, but because of the relentless horror and almost unbearable poignancy of its content. Unforgettable.
FILMS
DESIERTA (2015) D- Jonas Cuaron.
On the border between the US and Mexico, human traffickers dump a crew of would-be immigrants in what seems to be the middle of a desert and say: "the border's that way. Off you go, and good luck." On the American side, a hunter equipped with a high-powered rifle and an ATV is waiting for them. There are few border guards in this remote area, so he works alone, picking them off one by one from his redoubt. Donald Trump would probably be proud of him. But these guys didn't come this far and go to this much trouble to be thwarted by a lone vigilante, and they keep running. And dodging the bullets...
This film enacts an ancient theme, the hunter versus the hunted, in a thrilling and often horrific manner. Terrifying but totally absorbing.
DISTURBIA (2007) D- D.J. Caruso.
A young lad (Shia Lebeouf) is driving the car when it crashes and his Dad is killed. He goes off the rails, punches out an unsympathetic teacher and his sentenced to house arrest. With nothing else to do for several months he observes his neighbors leading their lives: an obsessive gardener, a beautiful teenaged girl and... a murderer?
Ring any bells? It should do. This is the plot of Hitchcock's Rear Window, updated to the noughties and starring a teen idol at the height of his popularity at the time. It's a very good idea, and is very well done, though I fear it should have wound itself up about half an hour quicker than it did. Probably required watching for anyone under thirty.
THE CROW'S EGG (2014) D- M. Manikandan
A couple of street kids in Madras hear about a new pizza parlor that's just opened up and would give anything to go into its air-conditioned space, sit on its fake leather seats and enjoy a nice Hawaiian with a coke on the side. Thing is, this is about as far out of their financial reach as it would be for me to buy a mansion in Belgravia. But a boy can dream...
They consider stealing the money, but have moral reservations. They consider a variety of money-making schemes, none of which come to very much, certainly not enough for the handful of rupees required for such luxury. One day they think they have amassed enough, but when they turn up they're thrown out by a management who think they're too dirty. They even give them a cuff upside the head into the bargain, but someone films the incident on their mobile. If this film got out it could be very embarrassing for the pizza parlor owners...
A really rather charming and engaging little movie form India, skillfully made and with good acting (from largely amateurs as I understand it) all round. Hot stuff.
GO (1999) D- Chris Liman
A feisty young woman is approached to obtain some E for a group of heads about to go off to a rave, and realizes she can make a packet by adding her own markup. But when she takes the drugs to the group, she susses it might be a sting operation and throws the lot down the loo. Still thinking on her feet she decides to sell them a load of aspirins instead, so she still makes her money. Cute...
This tale-of-its-time is then explored from a number of POVs, a la Rashomon, and the whole is really very good. Starring Timothy Olyphant, Katie Holmes in one of her first big roles and a very good Sarah Polley as the amateur drug dealer and con artist, I really enjoyed this minor cult classic. Try it yourself.
BOYS IN ZINC, by Svetlana Alexievich, continued from previous blog.
Try this little extract as a sample:
When a bullet hits someone you hear it; there's no way to forget it or confuse it with anything else - that distinctive wet splat. A young guy you know falls flat down in dust as bitter as ashes. You turn him over onto his back; the cigarette you just gave him still clutched in his teeth. It's still smoking... I wasn't prepared to shoot at anyone, I was still from ordinary life. From the normal world...
- A private, grenedier
What Alexievich shows us with this book is that the genre of "creative nonfiction" can, if it is good enough, ascend to the status of high art. Which this does. This book is not easy to read, not because of its style, which is eminently readable, but because of the relentless horror and almost unbearable poignancy of its content. Unforgettable.
FILMS
DESIERTA (2015) D- Jonas Cuaron.
On the border between the US and Mexico, human traffickers dump a crew of would-be immigrants in what seems to be the middle of a desert and say: "the border's that way. Off you go, and good luck." On the American side, a hunter equipped with a high-powered rifle and an ATV is waiting for them. There are few border guards in this remote area, so he works alone, picking them off one by one from his redoubt. Donald Trump would probably be proud of him. But these guys didn't come this far and go to this much trouble to be thwarted by a lone vigilante, and they keep running. And dodging the bullets...
This film enacts an ancient theme, the hunter versus the hunted, in a thrilling and often horrific manner. Terrifying but totally absorbing.
DISTURBIA (2007) D- D.J. Caruso.
A young lad (Shia Lebeouf) is driving the car when it crashes and his Dad is killed. He goes off the rails, punches out an unsympathetic teacher and his sentenced to house arrest. With nothing else to do for several months he observes his neighbors leading their lives: an obsessive gardener, a beautiful teenaged girl and... a murderer?
Ring any bells? It should do. This is the plot of Hitchcock's Rear Window, updated to the noughties and starring a teen idol at the height of his popularity at the time. It's a very good idea, and is very well done, though I fear it should have wound itself up about half an hour quicker than it did. Probably required watching for anyone under thirty.
THE CROW'S EGG (2014) D- M. Manikandan
A couple of street kids in Madras hear about a new pizza parlor that's just opened up and would give anything to go into its air-conditioned space, sit on its fake leather seats and enjoy a nice Hawaiian with a coke on the side. Thing is, this is about as far out of their financial reach as it would be for me to buy a mansion in Belgravia. But a boy can dream...
They consider stealing the money, but have moral reservations. They consider a variety of money-making schemes, none of which come to very much, certainly not enough for the handful of rupees required for such luxury. One day they think they have amassed enough, but when they turn up they're thrown out by a management who think they're too dirty. They even give them a cuff upside the head into the bargain, but someone films the incident on their mobile. If this film got out it could be very embarrassing for the pizza parlor owners...
A really rather charming and engaging little movie form India, skillfully made and with good acting (from largely amateurs as I understand it) all round. Hot stuff.
GO (1999) D- Chris Liman
A feisty young woman is approached to obtain some E for a group of heads about to go off to a rave, and realizes she can make a packet by adding her own markup. But when she takes the drugs to the group, she susses it might be a sting operation and throws the lot down the loo. Still thinking on her feet she decides to sell them a load of aspirins instead, so she still makes her money. Cute...
This tale-of-its-time is then explored from a number of POVs, a la Rashomon, and the whole is really very good. Starring Timothy Olyphant, Katie Holmes in one of her first big roles and a very good Sarah Polley as the amateur drug dealer and con artist, I really enjoyed this minor cult classic. Try it yourself.
Book and film review June 2017
Welcome to this month's media blog. I apologise for my meagre output this month. What with helping my legal team prepare my defence against false allegations which could land me in prison for the rest of my life if they are believed by a jury, I have been a little preoccupied.
I could have blogged about the tragedy at Grenfell Tower, the austerity culture which directly led to it, and the shameful response of the local council who have behaved like little bullies hiding in the broom cupboard as soon as they are called to account for their actions, or lack of them.
I could have blogged about the cynical manner in which power is manipulated in government following the call for a strong and stable leadership which was in the event replaced by a weak and unstable leadership.
I have also been writing an account of the events of the previous twelve months, which, if good enough, I may try to get published one day.
But I have not stopped reading and watching movies, hence the following (please note the review will be split into 2 parts due to computer issues)
BOOKS
OBLOMOV, by Ivan Goncharov
A member of the Russian landed gentry in the early 19th century, Oblomov lives far from his estate in a rented flat in St Petersburg. He likes the regular cheque that arrives from there which funds his indolent lifestyle, and worries when the amount of the cheque falls each quarter. He should probably go there and kick a few behinds, but he can't summon the energy. In fact he can't summon the energy to do... anything at all. He lies on his sofa, barely bothers changing his clothes from week to week and lives in squalor which should be addressed by his manservant, but he has been infected by his master's sloth and does as little as possible himself.
What is wrong with Oblomov? Perhaps today he would be diagnosed with agoraphobia and social anxiety syndrome. Certainly there is something seriously wrong. Even when a charming and pretty young lady seems to take an unaccountable shine to him, he is unable to conduct a normal, healthy relationship with her and eventually drives her away.
In Oblomov Goncharov has created a unique and highly memorable character in Russian fiction. Meant to typify an archetype of minor Russian aristocrat perhaps prevalent at that time, Goncharov explains what was wrong with the class system in those days, and how it was inevitable it would crumble and die. A neglected classic, highly recommended.
HUNGER, by Kurt Hamson
In the Christiania (Oslo) of the 1890s, a young writer is starving in his garret, literally. If he can write a piece for the local paper he will be paid enough to keep the wolf from the door for a few days: trouble is, he's so hungry he can barely put pen to paper. He's in a kind of vicious circle, and there seems no way to snap out of it. Even when he gets a bit of money he gives it away to someone even poorer than himself, and when by an act of generosity he is given some food he eats it too eagerly and vomits the whole lot back up.
Why doesn't he leave the city, get an ordinary job, labouring or something, do anything really to avoid starving to death? Because this is his great project: write something outstanding, or die in the attempt.
Kurt Hamson won the Nobel prize for literature for his wonderful books, and this is his most famous: an extraordinary account of a man in extremis, an intelligent, sophisticated thinker who has decided on a course of action which may end his life, though even that is less important than his strange obsession with writing while on the edge of starvation. Fantastic.
BOYS IN ZINC, by Svetlana Alexievich
Being a series of interviews with men and women who have fought in Russia's war in Afghanistan and their loved ones who wait for them- sometimes in vain. Why is it called Boys in Zinc? Because that's what the coffins are made of, stupid.
What this remarkable collection of interviews illustrates is that wars are the same the world over and since time immemorial. Young, impressionable lads (and not a few women, this being a Russian war) believe the hype about fighting for the honor of the Motherland and go out to a desert hell where the only thing waiting for them is a population who resent their presence and do everything they can to murder them. The one's who aren't shot through the head or blown to bits come home minus limbs, suffering from post traumatic stress disorder which will never be treated or even acknowledged.
Please see next blog for the conclusion of this review.
I could have blogged about the tragedy at Grenfell Tower, the austerity culture which directly led to it, and the shameful response of the local council who have behaved like little bullies hiding in the broom cupboard as soon as they are called to account for their actions, or lack of them.
I could have blogged about the cynical manner in which power is manipulated in government following the call for a strong and stable leadership which was in the event replaced by a weak and unstable leadership.
I have also been writing an account of the events of the previous twelve months, which, if good enough, I may try to get published one day.
But I have not stopped reading and watching movies, hence the following (please note the review will be split into 2 parts due to computer issues)
BOOKS
OBLOMOV, by Ivan Goncharov
A member of the Russian landed gentry in the early 19th century, Oblomov lives far from his estate in a rented flat in St Petersburg. He likes the regular cheque that arrives from there which funds his indolent lifestyle, and worries when the amount of the cheque falls each quarter. He should probably go there and kick a few behinds, but he can't summon the energy. In fact he can't summon the energy to do... anything at all. He lies on his sofa, barely bothers changing his clothes from week to week and lives in squalor which should be addressed by his manservant, but he has been infected by his master's sloth and does as little as possible himself.
What is wrong with Oblomov? Perhaps today he would be diagnosed with agoraphobia and social anxiety syndrome. Certainly there is something seriously wrong. Even when a charming and pretty young lady seems to take an unaccountable shine to him, he is unable to conduct a normal, healthy relationship with her and eventually drives her away.
In Oblomov Goncharov has created a unique and highly memorable character in Russian fiction. Meant to typify an archetype of minor Russian aristocrat perhaps prevalent at that time, Goncharov explains what was wrong with the class system in those days, and how it was inevitable it would crumble and die. A neglected classic, highly recommended.
HUNGER, by Kurt Hamson
In the Christiania (Oslo) of the 1890s, a young writer is starving in his garret, literally. If he can write a piece for the local paper he will be paid enough to keep the wolf from the door for a few days: trouble is, he's so hungry he can barely put pen to paper. He's in a kind of vicious circle, and there seems no way to snap out of it. Even when he gets a bit of money he gives it away to someone even poorer than himself, and when by an act of generosity he is given some food he eats it too eagerly and vomits the whole lot back up.
Why doesn't he leave the city, get an ordinary job, labouring or something, do anything really to avoid starving to death? Because this is his great project: write something outstanding, or die in the attempt.
Kurt Hamson won the Nobel prize for literature for his wonderful books, and this is his most famous: an extraordinary account of a man in extremis, an intelligent, sophisticated thinker who has decided on a course of action which may end his life, though even that is less important than his strange obsession with writing while on the edge of starvation. Fantastic.
BOYS IN ZINC, by Svetlana Alexievich
Being a series of interviews with men and women who have fought in Russia's war in Afghanistan and their loved ones who wait for them- sometimes in vain. Why is it called Boys in Zinc? Because that's what the coffins are made of, stupid.
What this remarkable collection of interviews illustrates is that wars are the same the world over and since time immemorial. Young, impressionable lads (and not a few women, this being a Russian war) believe the hype about fighting for the honor of the Motherland and go out to a desert hell where the only thing waiting for them is a population who resent their presence and do everything they can to murder them. The one's who aren't shot through the head or blown to bits come home minus limbs, suffering from post traumatic stress disorder which will never be treated or even acknowledged.
Please see next blog for the conclusion of this review.
Thursday, 29 June 2017
USA: weird place
Just as he promised in his election campaign, Donal Trump is busy dismantling Obama's legacy piece by destructive piece. He has appointed someone to head the EPA (Environmetal Protection Agency) who has repeatedly sued that organisation on behalf of big business, or big polluters you could say. He has isolated Cuba once again, just when bridges were being rebuilt between those two nations after 50 years of hatred and mistrust. And now, worst of all, he is seeking to destroy "Obamacare" in a move which will deprive 22 million Americans of health care by 2020.
I was watching Fox News the other day, where "Obamacare" is a dirty word (it's just as well to learn how the enemy are thinking, after all) and one of their contributors was saying that this move will allow these people now to have "some choice" in how they access health care. What choice is he talking about? These 22 million Americans are among the poorest members of society: what choice do they really have? Somewhere between crap health care or, more likely, no health care at all. American middle class voters, apparently, think this is fine. Why should they pay for someone else's health care? Yet they pay for other people's education through their taxes. What's the difference? True, a lot of people in the US don't like paying taxes, just like some of our ultra-hard Brexiteers whose grand plan is to turn the UK into a low tax, low welfare haven like a larger version of the Cayman Islands.
Americans come from a frontier mentality, where people fended for themselves and anyone who couldn't went under. That mentality is now applied to healthcare, though not to education. But, I would ask them, what use is a good, state funded education if your health isn't good enough to take advantage of it? What's the difference guys?
I was watching Fox News the other day, where "Obamacare" is a dirty word (it's just as well to learn how the enemy are thinking, after all) and one of their contributors was saying that this move will allow these people now to have "some choice" in how they access health care. What choice is he talking about? These 22 million Americans are among the poorest members of society: what choice do they really have? Somewhere between crap health care or, more likely, no health care at all. American middle class voters, apparently, think this is fine. Why should they pay for someone else's health care? Yet they pay for other people's education through their taxes. What's the difference? True, a lot of people in the US don't like paying taxes, just like some of our ultra-hard Brexiteers whose grand plan is to turn the UK into a low tax, low welfare haven like a larger version of the Cayman Islands.
Americans come from a frontier mentality, where people fended for themselves and anyone who couldn't went under. That mentality is now applied to healthcare, though not to education. But, I would ask them, what use is a good, state funded education if your health isn't good enough to take advantage of it? What's the difference guys?
Friday, 9 June 2017
Hubris thy name is Theresa
When TM announced her snap election 7 weeks ago there were predictions of a Tory landslide of a magnitude not seen since 1983. Majorities of 150 were rumored to be by no means impossible. Aided by Nick Robinson and Laura Kuenssberg of the BBC, and of course the fascist press, we were encouraged to see Jeremy Corbyn as someone slightly to the left of Che Guevara, someone who would ruin Britain. "Strong and stable" she bleated, over and over till we were sick of it. What went so wrong?
For me there were a couple of turning points. First May's decision not to take part in TV debates. Why? She seemed to do pretty well against Jezza at PMQs, though of course she is extensively briefed prior to those exchanges. But the Great British Public smelled a rat. And when Corbyn reversed himself and decided to take part, it was a master stroke. Then there was the social care issue. Today almost every family in Britain is either facing this problem already or will soon enough. These people, the ones likely to lose their inheritance as they fork out for care for their ailing parents, are the baby boomers, the older voters who tend to support the Tories. They began to lose faith. Then there were the youth, the vote remainers apparently, and they didn't like what happened last June.
All these factors came together yesterday to deliver a bloody nose to the leave-at-any-price group. John Redwood, for example, was on the BBC this morning looking less like he'd been given a bloody nose and more like he'd gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson- Oh! How happy I was to see it!
My own life has taken a dark turn of late, though there may still be redemption at the end of the black tunnel I am in right now. And today has illustrated that the world is not quite as terrible as I feared it was. Well done Britain! You go!
For me there were a couple of turning points. First May's decision not to take part in TV debates. Why? She seemed to do pretty well against Jezza at PMQs, though of course she is extensively briefed prior to those exchanges. But the Great British Public smelled a rat. And when Corbyn reversed himself and decided to take part, it was a master stroke. Then there was the social care issue. Today almost every family in Britain is either facing this problem already or will soon enough. These people, the ones likely to lose their inheritance as they fork out for care for their ailing parents, are the baby boomers, the older voters who tend to support the Tories. They began to lose faith. Then there were the youth, the vote remainers apparently, and they didn't like what happened last June.
All these factors came together yesterday to deliver a bloody nose to the leave-at-any-price group. John Redwood, for example, was on the BBC this morning looking less like he'd been given a bloody nose and more like he'd gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson- Oh! How happy I was to see it!
My own life has taken a dark turn of late, though there may still be redemption at the end of the black tunnel I am in right now. And today has illustrated that the world is not quite as terrible as I feared it was. Well done Britain! You go!
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