Wednesday, October 09, 2002

So here we are, well into October. And as the Sun takes a deepeningly shallow path across the lower half of the sky, we arrive at a time of year where indecisiveness rains down like leaves falling from a tree. Specifically I'm referring to that great subject of British conversations - the weather. In this country especially, the confusion becomes paramount.

When to unpack the overcoat.

I have to say it's worse in Spring. The temptation is to want the hot weather to come quickly and to go out wearing a lone t-shirt well before summer ripens. We get cold, but we still refuse to wear the coat next time as to do so would be to admit that summer is still to come.

Okay okay, so this is a particularly petty subject matter. However it is indicative of the time of year. Just look at the state of the Conservative Party. At a time when there should be no external pressures on them, the party is collapsing in on itself like a tin can in a high school physics experiment. Last week I spoke to somebody who was keeping a bottle of champagne in their fridge specifically to open upon the announcement of Thatcher's death. And it seems there are many more who will celebrate when the old witch finally meets her (rather pshychotic) maker - including me. In fact I wouldn't be surprised to see the pubs overflowing with frothy bitter (traditional industrialists drink) on that night accompanied by great merriment and cheer. I'm also hoping to spot the odd wealthy socialist man of leisure touring drinking holes buying large rounds of champagne for all. And truly, at least within those particular licensed establishments, we will have little foetal societies; "Let us create a society!" I for one will scream loudly.

With the Tories fading into the background, it seems clear now that we, as a population, are seeing things more starkly then we did in the late seventies and eighties. I guess that period was the autumn of the twentieth century. In our figurative spring we had two World Wars and more confusion.

Is what I speak a large flagon of toss? Well, yes frankly. But I've got to write something, otherwise this becomes a rather pointless blog. Although the thought occurs that what I'm writing renders this blog pretty futile anyway. However I urge you to stick with the course.

Hmm, I'm gonna think of something better to write and continue today's entry later...

I've just been looking for images to put at the top of this page. I don't only want football related pictures, so I thought maybe a man running through a battlefield would be a good'un. Amazingly, a search brings up countless images of cats. Which made me think of the brilliant site I've temporarily put up the one half-decent image I've found. If anyone can find anything more approriate, do email me.

I've been told that my previous entry doesn't actually mean anything at all. Well, perhaps. But as I said to the person concerned (and this also goes for the images), perfection can only be achieved via incremental steps. Although I've got to be careful about spending too much time with my computer having read about a 24 year-old South Korean gentleman who died after spending 86 consecutive hours playing a computer game. I know a few people who should take a look at that link before taking an even more careful look inwards. Right, I'm gonna shift off now. I have a rather colossal curry to cook and consume. And if they don't yet like my ramblings, perhaps that alliteration there will win a few over....

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