Prophylactic Names and Parliamentary Responsibility

I don’t think I could ever fall in love with a man called Nigel, or Donald. They are names that just don’t do it for me. Try imagining passionate moments with a man with either name. “Oh Nigel!” “Oh Donald!” No. It sounds like something from a bad sitcom. Comedy names; cartoon ducks.

Shame the parents of the current prominent owners of these names didn’t just practise safe sex rather than landing their offspring with prophylactic names. Maybe the new US President parades his family so often to show how against the odds, and I am not just talking about his name now, he has managed to persuade three women to have sex with him.

That Nigel Farage has also children makes me realise there is no accounting for tastes.

But I do find it incredible that family men can be so cavalier with the future of the planet. On the news tonight there was footage of Trump signing a document that could mean the go ahead to oil pipelines. He chooses to ignore the evidence about climate crisis and puts all our lives, all life, in jeopardy, spouting figures for jobs that presumably he has just made up as no one else has those figures, as though jobs now make up for the loss of polar bears tomorrow. Continue reading

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Tonight

I was near the river this afternoon, at Bankside. That’s when I heard that traffic was all snarled up due to the student demo. I didn’t think too much about it.

On the way home, on foot, I saw a number of emergency vehicles, blue lights flashing, but that’s not unusual.

The helicopters were up, but that’s not unusual either when there’s a demo. We are routinely surveilled in London.

Cat was angling for some lap attention so I took the opportunity to sit down and watch Channel 4 News.

Scenes of determined violence around Parliament Square were juxtaposed surreally with the quiet calm of Central Lobby in the Palace of Westminster. I’ve not seen anything like this since the poll tax riots. Continue reading