Having got politics off my chest earlier, I find myself wanting to write about so much today. There are the riots in america, which, while one can never condone violence, I cannot help but agree with and back. There's the appalling news that people with learning disabilities are being abjectly failed, thrown into homes - surely a step backwards towards the darkest days of disability. There's the slightly better news that advertising on video blogs is going to be regulated slightly more. Personally, I am utterly contemptuous of people who use their blogs to get money by flogging stuff - what a sell out. Now, excuse me while I sip my delicious Coke. Above all, though, inspired by this news about a singing nun rising through the Itallian nun with such hits as ''Like A virgin'' (you really couldn't make it up, could you?) I feel utterly compelled to direct you to this Frank Zappa classic. Amen.
(As you can probably tell, I have my computer back. Yay!)
It's wednesday again, and once again I have spent the last half hour yelling at the tv, becoming angrier and angrier as that arrogant, unelected prick CaMoron tells us how wonderful he is, how well he and his party are doing, and how fortunate we all are to have him as prime minister. I'm sick of it. It really rubs me up; I find myself shaking with rage as I think of the suffering he and his party have caused through their cuts, only to watch him try to blame all our woes on labour. It was Labour who started the recovery, and the economy is doing well despite, not because of, what that barely numerate prick George Osbourne is doing. But now we have to watch the tories hijack the credit, thinking they can sneer and jeer at those who actually care, patting themselves on the back for lowering taxes while people reliant on benefit starve. It is utterly infuriating. I'm sure it worries Lyn to get so angry, but too see those tory scumbags impose their childish neoliberal views on us is almost too much to bear. I want the fuckers out!
As we drove home in the taxi last night, I was struck once again by what an awesome city we live in. London had done it again. Last nights screening up at the Royal College of Physicians went very well indeed: the shot film with Lyn and myself was played film, then the main film, followed by a question and answer session. It struck me as a triumph, although I suspect that a few of my friends in the crip community may raise one or two questions. They used lyn's score well: it was not too overt, but really helped set the mood of the film, just as non-diagetic music should. It made me feel really proud to hear it: whenever it was introduced, I thought, that's my Lyn!
What remains, of course, is for the film to be marketed. It is apparently doing well in Spain (after all, it is a documentarry about Spanish paracyclists). With any luck, someone at channel four or the Beeb will see it and pick it up, but time will tell. Now, though, I feel very excited: what I saw last night has very great potential indeed, and is gaining momentum. I cannot wait to see what happens next.
I suppose I can't complain, given the frequency with which awesome things happen, but today has been a dull, slow day. I have barely moved from the sofa. It has been raining all day, which always dampens my mood. Tomorrow, on the other hand, should be much more interesting: you may recall me noting a while ago that Lyn was asked to compose the score for The Unstoppables, a Spanish documentarry about paracyclists. Well, tomorrow is its first screening, up at the royal college of physicians, and guess who is invited! I can barely believe we are going to my first proper premier. I have been wondering what to wear all day - part of me really wants to go in my tux.
I was just watching an old episode of the Simpsons and I was struck by a thought worth noting. It was the episode where the homer and marge are judged unfit parents and are fostered by Flanders. Ned then learns that Bart, Lisa and Maggie were never baptised, and has an apoplexy. I noted how he immediately resolves that Homer and Marge were indeed bad parents. I know it is a cartoon, but that struck me as a perfect example of religious hypocracy of religion and the folly of it. How does being religious make one in any way a better person? Indeed, I would argue that ned is by far the worse parent, for it is he who indoctrinates his children into a strict conservative worldview, demanding they believe all kinds of fiction and refusing to let them think. From an objective standpoint, surely that counts as abuse, yet society allows people like Flanders, even praising them. That strikes me as troubling: through religion, kids are being lied to and abused, and society hypocritically allows it.