Not Much To Say
With the bloody bastard Conservatives turning the map of England blue (Scotland wouldn’t dream of voting them in, Northern Ireland have got one massive protest vote in with Sinn Fein, and Wales have been typically indecisive, making their portion of the map look like a child’s splodgy finger painting), I’ve been rereading Things Can Only Get Better. This has cheered me up enormously, firstly because it’s written by John O’Farrell, who is left-wing and professionally amusing, and secondly because he manages to combine this with pertinent political commentary:
“How can it be that they are taught the polite way to hold a fork and the correct way to tilt their soup bowls but no one told them how rude it was to perch their bottoms on the edge of the pub table that my friends and I are sitting around? And in the same way that the Conservatives are unaware of how their behaviour affects other people on a day-to-day basis, their lack of consideration affects the way they behave in government. ‘Sorry – I didn’t notice you queuing there’ is basicalloy the same syndrome as ‘Oh, sorry, north of England, I didn’t notice you there’.”
Otherwise, I’ve got nothing. I’ve run out of brain-space for it. I’m metaphorically going “LA LA LA CAN’T HEAR YOU!” by spending today doing revision. And not even nice, easy revision. No, I’m working on the subject I dislike most, on the grounds that at least that’ll direct my attention away from raging impotently at everybody in, say, Oxford West and Abingdon who voted for a Conservative, thereby losing the Lib Dem’s Dr. Evan Harris his job.