This morning I was down to Kings Cross for 8am to join the local Labour Party rally for renationalisation of the Railways.
It felt good to be actually doing something, and I got surprisingly few filthy looks for bothering people first thing in the morning on their first day back, although one plummy-mouthed shitbag did come over to make the point that he strongly disagreed with us.
No doubt, like the rest of the Tory party, he believes fervently in the profit motive and the private sector as the means to a fairer society. Without that, how on earth would people motivate themselves to work? He didn’t get where he is today by having the nanny state hand him everything on a plate. He did have Nanny to hand him everything on a plate, but that’s beside the point. A free market is the only way to ensure those who work hard reap the rewards. Like him. Like his father. Like his father before him. Without the profit motive, his ancestors might never have acquired their land, their title and their estate. Yes, we must be insane wanting to intervene in the private sector, he said, stepping over the homeless lady. It’s the only fair way.
I hope to be out again soon.
In other news, I’m at the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery today, getting MRIs on my neck and back. I’m not hopeful for a constructive treatment plan, since last time my consultant told me that my problems are minor compared to the children he sees with brain cancer.
Whilst his argument is undoubtedly logical, I’m a bit disappointed that someone so concerned with the treatment of chronic pain cannot understand that chronic illness is entirely subjective. Perhaps his treatment will entail showing me a picture of Stephen Hawking upon which the pain in my spine will disappear. I’ll let you know.
Happy new year.