Many others have already written about the tragic and brutal murder of Lee Rigby last week, the aftermath that we have witnessed, and what this signifies. You can read some brilliantly on point blog posts as follows: @WarOnWar - The Woolwich Reaction @AssedBaig - Woolwich and the Muslim Response @SamAmbreen - IC A Muslim There’s also this post , brought to my attention on twitter by @izzykoksal , on the EDL and fascism: The above 4, between them, have probably already said a lot of what I feel. But here goes anyway. There have been moments when I found myself shaking in reaction to events at the EDL/counter-demo this afternoon. And I’m not even in london. Reports from those attending the antifascist march are terrifying. Not least because of the sudden swell in support for the far-right ideologies being spouted, following a week which saw a massive outpouring of hatred and violence against muslims and those ‘appearing’ to be. Not least
I've had one of those days today where I've decided a whole load of things. I have a habit of doing a lot of my decision making internally, so I'll just come out with something like 'ok, so I'll be moving to Scotland next year', which tends to sound a bit random and out of the blue to those around me, but has usually been the reuslt of a long bit of internal dialogue. Anyway, the result of one of the decisions (save more) is that I plan to be in more over the next 10 months or so. Rather than spend all that time watching youtube videos and trying to perfect my a cappella imitation of the guitar riff in Hotel California, I figured I'd take it as a time to hopefully become a bit more creative. I'm planning to finally start teaching myself to play my Freecycle Violin with its Freecycle bow, and also play a bit more guitar, and maybe actually learn a bit more techniqe than jittery chord changes and skipping over the 'difficult' bits. I'm hop
So, I'm typing this from bed. And that's not like 'tea and toast, lights on, music blaring' bed. Nah, it's more like 'lights off, kind of touch typing, music whispering, go to bed soon as i'm done' bed. I'm as shocked as anyone to find myself here, in bed, with the prospect of not just up to but at least eight hours of sleep ahead of me! I'm not sure that my heart can take the excitement. I've not kept a diary for years, so can't actually remember the last time I slept that long, but it sure as heck wasn't any time in the near past (that I can recall, anyways, and that really is a significant factor). I guess there's a number of reasons my body finally beat me into submission. The past few weeks (months, years, life) have consisted of consistent lack of sleep. Hell, I'm so bad at getting my sleep, if someone were to try sleep deprivation as a form of torture on me, all they'd get is excessive giggling, and a wildly
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