annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


"Interesting Times"

I don't know why I'm still up and opening this page at gone midnight when I've walked over six miles today (I think I broke the puppy - poor little sod is absolutely fucked) and have been yawning for hours.  Part of it is being too tired to drag myself upstairs and clear all the stuff off my bed... though I'll almost certainly just push it onto the floor.

I don't know what words to use to describe the current wave of revelations about sexual abuse of power. It's quite overwhelming - could bring down the government here - they have such a small majority and it seems loads of them have been criminally predatory. Labour also of course - we've known forever that a man can be quite radical in all sorts of ways and still be blind to the fact that women are people rather than just receptacles.

Someone pointed out that when Spacey was accused of assault the accuser was believed at once, the TV show was cancelled the same day and now the UK police are investigating him. Compare and contrast ... Yeah, but that was an accusation by a man. Obviously different.

Amongst the many hateful things about all this:

1. when someone says you can't conflate putting a hand on a knee, or making a researcher buy a sex toy, with rape - actually you can when it's in the work place - it's all an abuse of power - it's never done to a person who can sack you, but to a person you can sack, or have moved or whatever

2. when a tv or radio discussion focuses on the possibility that soon you won't be able to pay a compliment without worrying about getting sued for harassment - because yes, let's concentrate about how this will affect men.

I called the police about what's happening with the theft and all that and apparently it was allocated an investigating officer, who has been investigating, without taking the full details from me or contacting me at all. I was told I will get a call on Monday, but I won't hold my breath. I am hating all this so much.

I've got into a mad thing on twitter about poppies - paper poppies are sold here in the UK in November to raise money for ex-service people. When I was a kid (1950s/60s) it was for survivors of WWI (like my grandfather, still alive and scaring the shit out of everyone including my dad who always called him 'sir'), the poppy being symbolic of that conflict, but now it's supposed to be for ex-service people in general. You don't see anyone on the telly in November without a poppy on their lapel.  It all pisses me off. Not the poppies but the still raising money in a way that is somehow on the backs of the boys whose lives were stolen by the big lie that was WWI, and then those who fought Hitler - the only 'decent' war in recent times, but there are no survivors of those conflicts any more (or a mere handful at most), so where is the money going? They raised £40 million last year - that's quite a few quid, isn't it?

An author I follow on twitter said he wasn't buying a poppy this year as he feels the symbolism has shifted away from remembering the horror of war towards war-hungry nationalism. I replied that I am angered by the contrast between the sentimentalism surrounding the poppy and the lack of real care given to ex-services - there's a soup run every evening near where I used to live, just for ex-service personnel and the queue is massive - they are all broken and homeless and skint - it's the UK version of the film Born on the 4th of July. Anyway, plenty of people took issue with it - most response I have ever had to a tweet - though it was really just a throwaway comment and my opinions are more complex than twitter allows room for unless you do a 'thread' and god knows how you do one of those. It's probably too late to bring in my long held position of being vehemently anti-war, anti-military, anti our military going into other countries and slaughtering civilians by the hundred thousand. Unless I want to be abused from here till forever.

I have been thinking of getting a bit of a tattoo. I nearly did when I was in the US - my pal Hil is an inker - but when we went to her place of work there was a massive man lying crying on the table which kind of put me off. I'm thinking of four stars, one to represent each of my kids and my grandson. Tiny little stars. Don't know where though - anyone have any views on where it hurts least?

12:50 a.m. - 04.11.17


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