Thursday, September 01, 2005

another day

I have more on Jean Charles de Menezes. His family's campaign continues. To get involved please sign up to the email list by emailing to .

previous blogs - here, here, and here

I got something in my eye while cycling - so I've had a bloody sore eye at work today - and both of them are severly bloodshot. I look like shit.

Got to listen to a bit of Dylan coming in this morning - on BBC 6Music. The latest bootleg album has come out - Bob's opened up the archives, and it sounds pretty good. Live Maggie's Farm, some Guthrie covers, the original take of Tambourine Man. I might be tempted to buy this CD. And there's a new Kate Bush CD on the horizon too. Must remember to save my pennies up.

Elvis Costello's Delivery Man was delivered yesterday and first listen suggests its pretty good. Emmy Lou Harris's backing vocals are fantastic. I'm going to listen to this tonight, and must remember to try to get to grips with previous CD North.

I'm rewriting my account of the Dunwich Dynamo. I left too much out of the previous version. I'm immensly proud of having done this. I want to build on it, and have to do a big ride this autumn - although maybe not 120 miles.
Saturday night was DVD night. We watched Starship Troopers 2 and Tremors 3. Both straight to DVD productions, but both more than watchable. Especially ST 2, which used a much reduced budget to explore the idea of a squadron stranded on a backwater planet away from the main war.
I more or less forced the family out for an evening walk on Sunday, along the South Bank. I thought it would be good for us to get out for a bit. We ended up witnessing a middle aged bloke get beaten up because he was onstructing some filiming going on near the National Theatre. So we walked him to St Thomas's Hospital A&E to get him looked at. S has an amazing way with people. She is genuinely caring and never shirks her duty as a human being. I don't think I'm such a good person, but I like to think it does rub off on me a little at least. The man was in a lot of pain by the time we got there, and the hospital staff treated him like he was a dangerous vagrant or troublemaker. The poor bloke was concussed, but absolutely no sympathy from the nursing staff. Angels? My arse!

On Monday the family went to the beach. We stopped at a little town on the coast called Dymchurch, positioned on the south coast of Kent, on the Romney Marsh. A strange bit of the world I've been meaning to have a look at for years.

Pictures are to follow.

So, I'm planning to go back on my bike and explore round the marshes, as this coast is only about 60 miles from London.

There is an interesting legend celebrated in the area by a re-enactment, on Syn Day, which was on the day we were there - but the celebrations are only every other year, and not this year. We have to go in 2006 to see the next re-enactment.

The local Hospice charity shop had a display in the front window entirely made of books about sex and witchcraft, including one which was about both sex and witchcraft. This had the feel of The Wickerman about it. Or Royston Vasey.

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