Her Maj, George and the Rest

The Queen at 80 is on BBC1 right now. It's pretty interesting although a bit heavy on the "ooh, it's been difficult for the Queen." Which I could have guessed, and the "ooh, she's very hard working and duty-bound" which I already knew.

Tony Blair, the "air guitarist of political rhetoric" (Will Self) said that on his first meeting as Prime Minister the Queen pointed out that the first prime minister she had to deal with was Winston Churchill. "Which put me into perspective," said Tony. Let me say this without resorting to swearing: Tony, you oatmeal-brained, greedy, grasping, insincere intellectually bankrupt mollusc of a human being, we didn't need that comparison pointing out to us. It would be quicker for us to list the things you have in common with Winston Churchill than the things you don't. I have it on decent authority that you and Winston are/were both members of the human race. And that is about it.

I find the royal family and the idea of monarchy absolutely fascinating. They are, as a political concept, something I actually have hardly an opinion on, but I find them fascinating. It must be quite marvellous to be able to look back and see where you're from for over a millennia... and yet quite terrible to know that your ancestors are who they are (inbred, corrupt, adulterous, murderous, terrible and the rest). I don't for a second think that every day of the lives of the royal family, Her Maj included, is a fairytale of a life... but sometimes it must be marvellous to wake up and think "bloody hell, I'm the Queen!".

Also, I read today that the Queen finds Cherie Blair's refusal to curtsey to her to not be offensive, but wildly funny. She's apparently quoted as saying something like "I can see her knees stiffening as I enter a room." Good on you, Auntie Betty.

Anyway, I know I haven't been around lately. It's not pique that nobody responded to my Massive Thin Lizzy Post, honestly. I started the origins of a cold sometime last week (possibly from standing waiting in the cold and rain for Scott Gorham) and it got worse and worse until I missed a day's work.

I saw San Francisco starring Clark Gable and Jeanette MacDonald when I was off. A great little film entirely ruined by the holier-than-thou ending.

I've been reading a new book about Ava Gardner. I won't say much until I've finished, but I will say this: I'm more convinced now than ever before that nothing you can tell me about her that would make me dislike her or diminish my respect for her.

Last week I had a dream about George Harrison. This is not the first time I've been blessed with such a moment... I still remember with vivid clarity the dream I had a few months after he died: me, him, a glorious cathedral and a moment stood hand in hand. Anyway, this was a curious dream. It was a strange dream this time... George, old and close to death, his grey hair very short, was about to embark on some strange possibly Hindi/Indian rite of passage which involved him trekking through a jungle. I saw him fighting through the trees and plants and seem to recall being told by someone in the know that when the message was received (or rather not received), we would know that he was dead. It was like he was to fight through the jungle to find some peace and quiet in which to die. And strangely, he grew younger as the dream went on and the last and most clear image burned into my head is of a soaking wet George struggling out of a river, looking as young and long-haired and beardy as he did in about 1968. In India, in fact. And I want to know what it means, because while I love to have my boys visit me in dreams and it doesn't happen enough, I wonder why and what it means.

I miss you, dear George. I hope, wish and pray that wherever you are that it's where you want to be and that you are happy.

Weirdly, one of the first things that one of the people at work said to me the next morning was "I had a dream about John Lennon last night..."

Also, what does it say about me or the state of current British architecture that as I passed one new build in North London, my immediate thought was "That looks exactly like one of the new uploads on Mod the Sims 2"?

Until next time, cats.

Her Maj, George and the Rest

The Queen at 80 is on BBC1 right now. It's pretty interesting although a bit heavy on the "ooh, it's been difficult for the Queen." Which I could have guessed, and the "ooh, she's very hard working and duty-bound" which I already knew.

Tony Blair, the "air guitarist of political rhetoric" (Will Self) said that on his first meeting as Prime Minister the Queen pointed out that the first prime minister she had to deal with was Winston Churchill. "Which put me into perspective," said Tony. Let me say this without resorting to swearing: Tony, you oatmeal-brained, greedy, grasping, insincere intellectually bankrupt mollusc of a human being, we didn't need that comparison pointing out to us. It would be quicker for us to list the things you have in common with Winston Churchill than the things you don't. I have it on decent authority that you and Winston are/were both members of the human race. And that is about it.

I find the royal family and the idea of monarchy absolutely fascinating. They are, as a political concept, something I actually have hardly an opinion on, but I find them fascinating. It must be quite marvellous to be able to look back and see where you're from for over a millennia... and yet quite terrible to know that your ancestors are who they are (inbred, corrupt, adulterous, murderous, terrible and the rest). I don't for a second think that every day of the lives of the royal family, Her Maj included, is a fairytale of a life... but sometimes it must be marvellous to wake up and think "bloody hell, I'm the Queen!".

Also, I read today that the Queen finds Cherie Blair's refusal to curtsey to her to not be offensive, but wildly funny. She's apparently quoted as saying something like "I can see her knees stiffening as I enter a room." Good on you, Auntie Betty.

Anyway, I know I haven't been around lately. It's not pique that nobody responded to my Massive Thin Lizzy Post, honestly. I started the origins of a cold sometime last week (possibly from standing waiting in the cold and rain for Scott Gorham) and it got worse and worse until I missed a day's work.

I saw San Francisco starring Clark Gable and Jeanette MacDonald when I was off. A great little film entirely ruined by the holier-than-thou ending.

I've been reading a new book about Ava Gardner. I won't say much until I've finished, but I will say this: I'm more convinced now than ever before that nothing you can tell me about her that would make me dislike her or diminish my respect for her.

Last week I had a dream about George Harrison. This is not the first time I've been blessed with such a moment... I still remember with vivid clarity the dream I had a few months after he died: me, him, a glorious cathedral and a moment stood hand in hand. Anyway, this was a curious dream. It was a strange dream this time... George, old and close to death, his grey hair very short, was about to embark on some strange possibly Hindi/Indian rite of passage which involved him trekking through a jungle. I saw him fighting through the trees and plants and seem to recall being told by someone in the know that when the message was received (or rather not received), we would know that he was dead. It was like he was to fight through the jungle to find some peace and quiet in which to die. And strangely, he grew younger as the dream went on and the last and most clear image burned into my head is of a soaking wet George struggling out of a river, looking as young and long-haired and beardy as he did in about 1968. In India, in fact. And I want to know what it means, because while I love to have my boys visit me in dreams and it doesn't happen enough, I wonder why and what it means.

I miss you, dear George. I hope, wish and pray that wherever you are that it's where you want to be and that you are happy.

Weirdly, one of the first things that one of the people at work said to me the next morning was "I had a dream about John Lennon last night..."

Also, what does it say about me or the state of current British architecture that as I passed one new build in North London, my immediate thought was "That looks exactly like one of the new uploads on Mod the Sims 2"?

Until next time, cats.