A summer day in a Londres spring. This spring has also provided winter days. These are not good signs, but the sun on my skin is good.
After the poor start to the weekend it just got better. I went knocking on doors for the opposition to our rulers. It felt good to take part in something bigger than myself. From the to a party at the Rebel Teacher’s house. On the way I met Dynamo Sparkle and one of her comrades underground. I invited them to the party and they came along. It was a good night with the best of company, though at the end I got into a discussion with someone who couldn’t see why people might be so negative about the Island’s colonialism. I left the conversation rather angry when he seemed dismissive of the suffering and death it has caused not just in the distant past but recently too in Mesopotamia. He said blandly that those with power will use it. I pointed out that sometimes they should be stopped, and that includes the rulers of this Island.
Then a glorious lie-in till midday, and lazy afternoon until it was time for a reading session with Power Fist and others. A friend from Cold Blow Farm joined me, though I’m not sure she was a convert to the intense political discussions of the rest of us. The reading segued into a barbecue, and the Curious Brewer cooked us fine food as we chatted. Such moments with friends are the bedrock of contentment.
Today was all about the sun. It takes me, oftentimes, to other places, where the sun shines more strongly. Alas today it took me, with the Public Tree Service, to the garden of some members of the Vermin Party. On their lawn lay the statue of a young adolescent girl, naked and reading a book on her front. It struck me as fairly typical of their degeneracy that they would cast this social unacceptability in bronze and display it for people to see. Why not? The rules aren’t for them. As I was leaving, they scoffed at the idea that public service cuts might actually affect service levels. They live in their own world, and the reality of people’s daily struggles aren’t for them. This is how we are ruled.