Why am I interested in the American Presidential election?
If America
wants to commit social suicide by voting for Romney, why should I care? Ah,
right: because America controls the internet, and we all know whose side Mitt
will be on when those weasly corporate and government people want to stop us
accessing what they don’t want us to see (at least, in some cases, not without us
paying them even more juicy dollars to add to the burgeoning hoard they already
have.) So there you go, America,
there’s one good reason not to vote for Mr 47%. If you do, it’s likely that
your internet will shrink to something like 47% of its current size.
* * *
Why do I still find it hard to believe that any human being
has ever been to the moon? I’m not saying they haven’t; I just find it hard to
believe. I did look at the moon on the night of 20th July 1969 and
couldn’t see anybody.
* * *
Why did I repeatedly dream about the menace of a mad woman
when I was a very small child? I don’t think it could have had anything to do
with my mother, because she had red hair and the mad woman had long black hair.
At least, I think she did. I only ever saw her from a distance, walking on the
balcony of her white tower in the desert. Excuse me, Mr Jung…
* * *
And why was I so terrified of lions when I was no older than four?
I even insisted that my dad and I crossed the road rather than walk close to a
stone lion standing on top of a pub portico. I knew it was only a harmless
statue, but I had to put distance between me and what it represented.
* * *
How do I manage to err on the side of extroversion, and yet
survive the way I live?
* * *
Why do I imagine that anybody anywhere might be interested
in any of this?
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