While I’m Here
After another broken night, I finally got up to find almost-blue skies and warmth, so I straight away put a chair out the front and went out there with a book. But something had changed, something significant: I could hear road noise from down the hill: constant; intrusive.
This thing is done; there will be no green dividend.
So I sat in the back garden for a while, then went inside, turned off all notifications on my phone, and buried myself in my book. Later this afternoon I sat out in the shade of one of the apple trees and caught up on the lates Fortean Times and jotted down a few paragraphs introducing a character in the w-i-p. All in all a decent day, if disappointing about the road noise.
This evening, I wrote up another 1970 music post. I’ve been a bit tardy with them, but there’s really only one further LP released 50 years ago this month that I want to listen to. A post a day was a good idea at the time, but only if there’s material to support it.
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I’m not going to write much on it now because I don’t have all the information I need to hand to put it together, but I continue to be worried by the directions being taken in the USA, partly because I have family and friends there, but also because, post-Brexit, any significant collapse in American civil society will likely take us down with it, particularly with the current incompetent charlatans in office here.
I can’t see a good way through the election process for America; too much is polarised. I also don’t like at all what I see happening there with Covid-19.
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Music: My favourite protest song by anyone, ever, is NWA’s Fuck Da Police, but this one comes in my top two or three. I swithered over whether to post Dick Gaughan’s version or the original, and have gone with the latter.
Phil Ochs : When I’m Gone.
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