From time to time I like to welcome new readers to this blog and thank those who have stayed with me, even if it’s only to post the odd ‘like’ or comment. If you’re shy about commenting, please go ahead and do it anyway; I’m not combative and I won’t jump on you if you dare to express an opinion, even if I don’t agree with it. That said, I don’t tolerate rudeness or trolling – not that any of you would be so ill-mannered as to attempt it. So please feel free.
I’m very bad at mentioning my blog to people: often they come across it quite independently and are surprised. Basically I’m a terrible self-promoter: as regular readers will know, I’m a member of the Insecure Writers Support Group and in an age where we’re all supposed to be self-sufficient, self-promoting little market forces all selling ourselves to each other, I’m a bit of a disaster. You’re supposed to get out there and yell ‘hey, look at this! This is brilliant! You want this! Come and get some!’ Whereas I just stand in a corner and mumble something like ‘well, there’s this thing over here. It’s quite good. I mean, I think so. You might want to take a look – but only if you have time.’
Like I say, bloody disaster.
In other news, Tony Blair has been found! Yes, he wasn’t in a bunker after all, but had scarpered to the Middle East where he is now taking part in the peace process – presumably to make up for the part he previously played in the war process. And possibly also trying to find some weapons of mass distraction.
And finally, a group of us gathered yesterday to watch ‘Pride’, the true story of how gays and lesbians (in the days before unwieldy acronyms were invented) collected money for the Welsh miners during the fatal strike. I remember the strike vividly: it was remarkable for its viciousness and although there were faults on both sides (I was never a fan of Scargill) the police behaved appallingly.
But this was not that story but an altogether more heart-warming tale of two cultures; London, not exactly gay-friendly then but at least getting there, and rural South Wales where no-one has ever met a gay or lesbian (at least, not knowingly). This is not, thankfully, an issue-laden film but one where two cultures unite against a common enemy: Thatcher and her cohorts, and where the attempts of a local homophobe with ‘a stick up her bottom’ fail to derail the connection that is made between them. If I were going to be hyper-critical I’d say the film was a bit Richard Curtis, but I don’t care. It’s great – and when the lights went up nearly everyone was dabbing their eyes.#
So if you haven’t seen it yet, go watch.
And let me know if you spot Tony Blair anywhere. The hunt is on!