Paint your door red.

In the recurring discussion of what Englishness of Britishness might be we often hear the word tolerance, maybe the phrase ‘fair play’ and yet this jars somewhat with me. But then who am I?; some white, bleeding heart, middle class, liberal Grauniad reading shiraz socialist who doesn’t live in the ‘real world’. Thinking briefly about the appalling term ‘real world’ I think it simply means that you don’t live in the world of the speaker, otherwise known as the accuser. For I suspect there is a strong correlation between those who use the term and intolerance of the other. As condom features singles out non-English speaking Muslim women in Bradford, asylum seekers in Middlesborough are housed behind red doors and those in Cardiff wear red wrist bands it is increasingly clear that intolerance and racism course through English and British veins. That perhaps our view of ourselves as tolerant is at least questionable. Maybe a more apt trait of englanders might be ‘real worlders’. We have had a red door for a while, our new one is red, I’m starting a petition for people to paint their doors red and wear red wristbands.

Loads of stuff about opinion polls lately, especially as a result of the last general election. Nice reversal in a letter today suggesting that maybe the polls were right but the election results wrong. Apparently polls have been significantly wrong 3 times in the last 50 years, and far be it from me to suggest any sort of conspiracy, the years were 1970, 1992 and 2015, all years when polls indicated a Labour win but they didn’t. And the only Labour win after Wilson was with the arch socialist bliar.

And I’m not the pleasantest person to be with currently, anxiety and anger are a toxic cocktail. Check-up tomorrow and results of scan. Need distraction so I’ve been doing heavy labour levelling our small lawn, surprising how much earth, gravel and old bits of stuff can exist in such a small area.

And we had another wonderful time in Stratford for Kate’s birthday and I did my best to try and spoil it on our return and I’m pretty pathetic really. Anyway Kate had lots of lovely presents, loads of cards , texts and visits from friends and she’s very excited about Jaike’s impending return from downunder.

And Swanage Town FC need a new manager jose.

Off to distract myself some more. And here’s another Kliban to make me smile:

Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.

 

 

 

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