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Dean Whitbread 2013

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Written on November 27, 2007, and categorized as Secret and Invisible.
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Less than a month to go until the winter solstice, and I can really feel the sense of impending doom that accompanies this time of year, manifesting itself in a series of bad news days for the government and the nation, and making us all feel insecure in a way that war, threatened invasion and being bombed has never done; riots in beautiful Paris and protests in civilised Oxford over different local brands of fascism, and of course the fallout continues from the football debacle, the national disgrace of losing in the game we invented to a well-organised team of highly skillful and committed ex-Nazi sympathisers – Croatia.

Dealing with doom and gloom (here I am at 6:43 am waiting for the first glimmer of dawn, and seeing only tungsten and chrome) should be easier for us more northern cultures. My dear artist friend Loose Mutton just so happens to be “dating” a large, handsome and passionate Croatian man and was lucky enough to be in the Croatian crowd at Wembley as our team crashed out of the European tournament. In the following days she joined a Facebook group whose title is “Fuck the European Championships. Lets Have a Girlie Holiday to Croatia” which I thought was an appropriate reaction and an excellent response, marred only by the misuse of the apostrophe. When the French lost to Italy in the 2006 World Cup, it would have been untypically fantastic to see similar reactions from our more southern neighbour; had they only formed a group called ” Baisez la tasse du monde, buvons un bon nombre de vin italien!” they might have recovered their dignity much quicker, might not have elected Sarkozy, and would not be in quite the same train-vandalising mess they are in now.

We pass annually through the eye of the needle, and the escaping light does something at once manic and stoic to true northerners. I recall that on my flight to Boston recently, the very charming Bostonian I sat next to, Mr Nelson, said to me of the differences between the Americans and British, “with the Americans, it’s always an emergency, but there’s always hope; with the Brits, there’s never an emergency, but there’s no hope at all.” So, as the daylight disappears to all but a few scant hours, there might be fascists on the loose, a bumbling, unconfident government, and an unmitigated footballing disaster, but hey ho, still, we have plenty of time for tea.

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One Comment

  1. Twit
    Posted 30 November, 2007 at 2:42 am | Permalink

    Great pic.

    Be careful with that tea, Deek.

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