Anger is only useful if it fuels action.
Yesterday’s anti-Brexit march felt useful. I wasn’t on it as I was working, but just seeing the pictures gave me a sense of solidarity, a sense of hope; this madness will stop.
If it doesn’t, those of us who wish to remain in the EU will continue to campaign to return. Please don’t talk to me about the will of the people, or democratic process. When the referendum was held in the early 1970s and people voted to stay in the EU, or Common Market as it was then known, the leave campaign sprang into action immediately. To paraphrase a meateater’s saying, what’s sauce for the lentils is sauce for the butter beans.
Democracy is about argument, not things set in stone.
My outrage meter was just returning to somewhere above normal after POTUS’ announcement that he would reverse his inhumane decision to separate children from their parents and then blame the Democrats, when I realised it doesn’t apply to those families already separated. The trauma those children have undergone for this Trumplestiltskin to make a point, beggars belief. I cannot begin to imagine how this is going to affect them in their adult lives. The insecurity, the realisation at a much too young age that their parents cannot always defend them will leave an indelible mark. And all because this man likes to think he’s strong, and that this is the sort of thing strong men do. The truth is he’s weak, and the weak never know how hard they are hitting you. Continue reading
I missed the opening minutes of the news on Channel 4 tonight but tuned in to hear that 1300 people of the Windrush Generation have been identified as suffering the effects of Theresa May’s vaunted Hostile Environment. Make that 1300 so far. Think about that number. It’s not small, it’s not insignificant. Imagine 1300 of your neighbours being told they had no right to remain in this country. I used to live in a village with a population of 600. It would have been emptied twice over. I’ve worked in schools with 1000 pupils. Imagine them all gone, and their teachers and maybe all the pupils and staff from the local primary school too to make up the 1300.
What times we live in. Continue reading
Bedtime calls, but I am sitting on the sofa with the IPad and MasterB has taken over the armchair after a fair fight with some string. He has a gorgeous new basket, but so far has done little more than sniff at it. No updates about Trevor. He is at the Cattery, being fed a diet to control his sensitive tum and no doubt loving the heat lamp, comfy bed and attention. When the rain lashed down last night I was so pleased he was safe and warm.
Two people have responded to the posts about him to offer money for his treatment. Isn’t that wonderful? A cat you don’t know, will never meet, will benefit from your generosity. The power of the Internet – thanks Tim Berners-Lee – is truly amazing.
For all the horrific stories about animal cruelty and neglect there are humans who do redeem our species. Kris celebrated happy animals rehomed in her blog yesterday. We need those stories of hope to motivate and inspire us in the face of the bleak reality faced by so many animals. Lorely and her friends are taking practical steps to improve animals’ lot. You may need a stiff whisky to get through this post, but believe me, it’s worth it. I left a comment, but it is not there. Blogspot is like that sometimes.