It's a good job I don't resort to drugs out of boredom or else I would be smoking crack with a tyxilix chaser most weekends.
Labour are still in power, though the odious Blair is almost departed. When he announced that he was finally, praise god, ding dong the witch is dead going he delivered a speech which pretty much summed up his time in office -- it sounded fantastic, he delivered it brilliantly, he spoke about no one but himself, he expressed no true contrition whatsoever and when you analysed it, it came to bits in your hands.
Basically, as fatally tarnished as this government is by Iraq and Blair's mystifying decision to ally himself with George W Bush and his neocons, this has not been a bad government. It has done a lot more good for poorer families, for aid to Africa, for economic stability and for inclusiveness than is acknowledged.
And now Gordon Brown is a cert to take over. Good. Let's see how he does after 10 years of lurking in the shadows and briefing and counter-briefing.
I'm still *never, ever* voting Tory. I thought about it in the last elections when I was at the height of my disgust over Iraq but somehow I just couldn't bear to do it. It's a visceral sort of thing.
I've got this week off, and it was supposed to be a week of zen, wherein I didn't actually have to do anything much but it hasn't turned out that way. It's almost Thursday and I've done eff all that I wanted to for various reasons. Though I have read a lot about plague pits in London, and Defoe's Journal of a Plague Year. I also watched The Office while on the cross trainer, which was fabulous. I've opened about ten LJ comment windows and then closed them when I realised that what I really wanted to write was "you know what? fuck off", which is scarcely constructive.
On the Guardian's Comment is Free website they have this lovely abbreviation -- FFS. As in "But Blair didn't even say anything FFS". I need an icon with OFFS on it.
I also went to see The Lives of Others, the winner of the best foreign film Oscar, which was just fantastic. The performances are beautifully judged, you never quite know what's coming next and I gasped out loud at least four times. I am sure some Hollywood pointyhead is trying to work out right now how to adapt it into an American context, which would work if they had either (a) the political bollocks or (b) ... nah, I can't work it out, but I am sure they would be dying to cast Kevin Spacey in the main role.
Next up 28 Weeks Later and This Is England.
Next week I am going to Italy, where it will be sunny, praise the Lord.