How it goes

The US Marines are withdrawing from Grenada and a provisional government is to be set up and ‘free’ elections to be held. If the people elected another anti-American government, who’s to say that Reagan wouldn’t send his boys back in?

There’s an RCP demo about Grenada in Hyde Park tomorrow but I probably won’t go. Lindsey is travelling up there.

I got a letter from Mum and Dad and I felt so awful about not keeping in more regular contact, so I wrote a letter to them. Dad’s finding his new job easy but tiring, and getting back into the routine seems a bit of a trial: “We will have to see how it goes,” says Mum. Dad needs the company I think. I got a card from Andrew too, and at the moment he’s spending £20 a week commuting from London to his job.

The mist closed in again today, leaving the sun a pale yellow disk glimpsed through banks of scudding fog, the two tower blocks near us rising up into the murk until lost from view. Kids roundabout keep letting off bangers.

Dennis Nilsen was sentenced to twenty five years in prison for the murder of at least a dozen men in London. The jury decided he wasn’t mad and so condemned him to a life behind bars. He may as well be dead. “I have judged myself more harshly than a jury can ever do . . .”

Tonight I read some of the letters of George Jackson from Soledad and San Quentin prisons. Perhaps on reading these, some people might realise why America is as bad as the USSR and as rotten to the core and riddled with racism and prejudice.

Barry and Guy have gone to a party in New Lycroft. Ade has left us again until Nov 19th and Pete and I may get some speed tonight, because I’ve an essay to do before I go away on Sunday.