Political

wemyss has defriended me- volcanically- over my paedophile posts. It's good stuff. He says I'm "an intellectual dung beetle", "a would be whipper-up of mobs" (both of which may be true) and a homophobe (which is not).

I cast my vote in the election for police commissioner. I wrote "I do not want an elected police commissioner at all". So that's a spoiled ballot. I view this election as a power grab by our discredited political parties.

Nothing Has Changed

It would be nice if the Newsnight debacle were the end of the affair, but it isn't. There was organized sexual abuse in UK children homes and it has been covered up. A lot of the abusers got off without even having a policeman knock at the door.  Most of those men  were wealthy and respectable and a few of them (it is rumoured) are big political names. The exoneration of Lord M doesn't change any of this. 

Distinctly Odd

For months now Dot has been waking in the early hours of every morning to hear a cuckoo clock strike twelve- only she doesn't own a cuckoo clock.  In between each of the "cuckoos" comes something that sounds like a snatch of recorded speech- too muffled to decipher. The noise is loudest in the vicinity of the cupboard that houses the boiler.

None of us has the least idea what is going on.