Four clear days...

...to scout around, check out some old time, long time places from way back whence we came. Four clear days to get my groovething back as the neuropathic drugs leave the nervous system for hopefully the last time. Viral meningitis isn't just nasty, it's a pain in the ass, a bit like an annoying person at a party who just won't leave you alone, and is the last one to leave, but only after throwing up over your boots. The worst is that outwardly, you would think I am a stonkingly healthy chap, and in a way, I am for the most part. But my brain is seriously pissed (as in irritated).

Watching: 'Grosse Pointe Blank'

Listening to: 'Maggot Brain' by Funkadelic

Reading: what I am typing right now (durrr)

Wondering: why is it that the Home Office have made it really difficult for people to protest in or around Parliament Square? Surely that's our right in a democracy? After all, we elect parliament to represent us. I don't believe that nonsense about terrorism, because we never had these restrictions in place when the IRA were active. It's a shame that would-be protesters now have to apply to the police for permission - I would much prefer it if they could apply to one of our few remaining independent institutions - the judiciary - and ask a magistrate.

The steady, sleight-of-hand style erosion of civil rights is far slicker than any Paul Daniels or David Copperfield magic trick I ever saw.

We the people, are suckers. Great thing is, once you know what you are, you can do something about it. The bitter truth is far far sweeter than floating ignorance.

Love, peace & respect,

Fearless