Inspired by the fevered brain machine that is Warren Ellis and his morning.computer, I’m going to start blogging again the way I used to: regularly, randomly, selfishly as a way of getting the fingers and brain warmed up for the day.
Today seems a good day for it: the tenth anniversary of 7/7, the only day I ever felt a genuine stab of fear that someone close to me might be involved in a terrorist ‘incident’ or ‘event’ or whatever your ambiguity of choice is. My wife was ‘somewhere in London’ and I was at the Guardian when the news came in of the tube and bus bombings on that day. I thought it likely she was on a bus. Tavistock Square was very close to the Institute of Education. Those facts connected themselves together with wilful disobedience and suddenly I was certain that she must be on that bus. She wasn’t, but I’ve had some respect for those panic-stricken by sudden terror events.
People are walking to work today in memory of the bombings, which I find a rather odd memorial, but there you go – at least it’s healthy. For me, this is a better memorial:
And while we remember events of a decade ago, Greece plunges ever further into a mess of …. well, whose making exactly? I found myself asking the question on Facebook a few days ago, inspiring quite a few comments, and this particular link, which for me expresses the appropriate amount of rage at the lenders.
Some links from yesterday:
- Thomas Piketty on Germany and debt
- Who owns Sherlock Holmes?
- Plastic Macca’s sightings of McCartney playing guitar right-handed
- Weeklong sex festival gets villagers up in arms
- Manda Scott’s masterly slab of histfic/crimefic Into the Fire
- Old Delano-era Hellblazers, for reasons I cannot explain
- Game of Thrones, series whatever-we’re-on
- Fury – watched last night on Tivo. First half brilliant, second half Call of Duty