Thursday, April 8, 1982
It seems the Argentinian carrier 25 May is holed up in port somewhere, trapped by two British submarines. God, all the Daily Mail jingoistic rabble-rousing stinks!
I did nothing much apart from fragmentary and half hearted attempts at ‘revision,’ lounging in my bedroom or downstairs, talking with Andrew. I’m so weak.
When Dad came home at teatime he was in one of his “I’ll-never-hear-a-word-against-this-country” moods and started sounding off about the relative merits of America and Russia. I said that they’re both as bad but Dad got indignant: “I’m glad I’m on America’s side. They’re basically a good Christian country.” What crap. I don’t believe it. He’s so annoying!
Onto El Salvador and his support for the “legally elected government.” I gave up, frustrated, speechless and by now incredibly angry that he could even say this. Then there he was, leaning forward, a sort of fanatical eagerness in his face and voice. “Look Paul [anger at me now], you’ll never force me into supporting communism”. . . “evilest regime the world has ever seen” etc., and so on . . . “I lean to the right, always have done. Right wing means being strong, that’s why we have such a good democratic country.”
There are always people like Dad, always the narrow-minded reactionary bigots (?) who see any talk against authority as tantamount to treason or Satanism or worse. Why? And basically innocent suffering sad anonymous mortal individuals always end up being pushed and messed about by their “leaders.” Is it so pathetic to think this way?
I watched a thing on TV about the Chinese rape of Tibet. Out of fifteen thousand-plus monasteries in 1950, there are now only thirteen left. Bastards!
Now I’m not even sure I know what I’m blithering on about.
It snowed today.