This is the Way We Count the Votes, Count the Votes…

It’s a cold and frosty morning here all right, with a swodge of mist thrown in just in case we weren’t quite chilly enough. I had to break out the winter quilt yesterday, that’s how cold it is and I’m glad of it – the cold, I mean. But also the quilt. Lots of fireworks were being let off last night, which also made me glad – I’ve been saddened in recent years by how much Hallowe-en (or a tawdry, supermarket version of it) has superseded Bonfire Night, but this year Guy Fawkes was back. Actually I don’t know how many people do burn guys – you certainly don’t see kids any more in the street crying ‘penny for the guy!’ with a stuffed suit in a wheelbarrow – but the bonfires and fireworks are alive and well. Unlike poor Guy, who was disembowelled before being burnt, as memory serves. Well, if you will try to blow up the Houses of Parliament…

The stars were bright last night as well – when we could see them over the smoke and flashes. We stood and watched from an upstairs window for a while, then back downstairs to check on the US election results. No change. And no change overnight either, except that it’s neck-and-neck in Georgia and Pennsylvania. It seems pretty clear at the moment that Biden will win – what’s not clear is what Trump and his supporters will do. Some of them certainly seem to have lost the plot – his spiritual advisor approached the state of a whirling dervish in her fervency:

It’s funny. You can laugh – in fact you must laugh at such things, but it’s also sad and a little desperate. Angels have been dispatched from Africa. Who knew? I had no idea the cherubim were holed up in Rwanda these days but hey ho, she seems to know all about it.

All of which brings me to Spitting Image which I thought had now finished but according to Wikipedia continues tonight. Excellent! I really hope they do something with Trump advisor Paula White. It is an excellent series and my only disappointment is that TV nowadays is so fragmented; you don’t go down the pub any more and say ‘Did you watch Spitting Image last night?’ (You don’t go down the pub at all now, but that’s another story.) Sure, they get a large audience but it’s a fragmented one; the episodes are streamed rather than broadcast so there’s no fixed time to watch it and many of my friends haven’t seen it at all because they’re busy catching up with Nordic noir on HBO or binge-viewing old episodes of Downton Abbey. Things just don’t have the same impact any more. Even so I can’t wait to see what they make of Paula White – in my mind I have some sort of exploding puppet surrounded by robot angels but they’ll do it so much better. Please let them do it.

Kirk out

One thought on “This is the Way We Count the Votes, Count the Votes…

  1. Very quiet round our way, last night. I don’t have much use for fireworks, to be honest, but I have to concede that kids [or overgrown versions of same] like them. It’s the animals I worry about. The weekend will probably bring some activity, weather permitting, of course. As for ‘Murica: meh. Cheers, Jon.

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