We had our End-Of-Project-Party on Monday night. Several hundred people in posh frocks and suits piled into Madame Tussuad’s for an evening of waxing lyrical (heh) about the last 18 months. (NB: I have never understood the attraction of seeing not-quite life-like replicas of celebrities. They just look like shiny corpses). The highlight for me was standing in the changing rooms at Debenhams as the first frock I tried on slipped over my hips and zipped up perfectly. A long, red, off the shoulder number that, with the firm assistance of Rigby & Peller’s magic scaffolding made me feel a.maz.ing.
On Radio 4 this morning, they interviewed a bearded Santa/Professory type from CERN. They have captured anti-matter! Basically anti-matter is antihydrogen. And when matter and antimatter get smushed together (in a Very Scientific Manner) they combust and create energy. The Starship Enterprise was powered, thus. I reckon they have about 25 years before Bob is going to be ready to captain the Starfleet, so this is good news for us all. Especially Bob.
Last week 50,000 students marched down Millbank to Conservative Party headquarters. The Vodaphone protests closed loads of shops across the UK in a campaign over £6billion of tax avoidance. And after Paul Chambers was convicted and fined (and lost his job) for a stupid joke on twitter, everyone had an ‘I am Spartacus’ (Spartapuss) moment. It seems that the polite residents of Wouldyoumindawfully Land are going completely against nature and staging uprisings all over the show. It’s AWESOME! Because civil disobedience is essential in a democracy (and especially out of one). I am all for persuading people of the justice of your cause through dialogue and the ballot box, but direct action is an inevitable consequence of government and business interests refusing to listen to communities under threat, and an essential tool for people of conscience to make themselves heard.
After a week of recovery from dermatitis and bung-eye, Rex is looking a teeny bit happier. He has been in a grump all week; growling at anyone that comes within a foot of him and only leaving his bed to forage for food, or do his Private Business in the garden (he looked out at the rain last night and sighed dramatically). Badger doesn’t seem to understand/care about his delicate state. As a consequence, he may be contemplating a move to Wiltshire as the local Council are planning a wide-reaching badger cull.
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Rex. Dude. You’re always welcome. But I’m already sharpening my anti-cull spears for throwing at anyone who threatens my badgers.
You looked totally hot in that gown.
Rrrrawr.
{ahem}
I love how you managed to make all of these topics fit together perfectly.
Also-
Bob is preparing for his new Starfleet commander position. Constantly.