Notes and Observations

I have just come from a period in exile in Weston Super-Mare, a town in which the sky so often becomes slate grey, the sea slate grey and the atmosphere of the town slate grey, that you feel like you are living in a disused slate quarry.

Growing older in this culture is a process of experiencing a growing sense of victim-hood; one is increasingly viewed as the slowest in the herd.

I have just been watching Nick Cohen being interviewed by a rather appallingly prissy woman by the name of Deborah Orr on Youtube, 'Nick Cohen interviewed by Deborah Orr.' I tried to focus on the debate but in the end I had to give up, I could no longer put up with her rritating ‘excuse me’ style. It also made me loose patience with Cohen, a man I admire. I longed for a Christopher Hitchens/Gore Vidal style put down, which we don’t do so well in this country, good manners seem to prohibit, which is I suppose why I find it so refreshing when I encounter it.

I have been listening all morning to Rachmaninoff, who I am reliably informed is now passe, along with Chagall, one of my favourite painters. I have long since passed the  the point in which I can be culturally bullied by the supposedly sophisticated. Taste for me will always be linked to pleasure.

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