Manifold errors

Jeremy and I went into town late morning and returned four hours later with several books from the library.

He isn’t looking forward to the festive season because with his Dad’s remarriage he feels like a stranger in his own home. He described to me the “constant edge” which exists between him and the rest of the ‘family,’ particularly with his step-brother and step-sister who have the usual tap-room derision for all forms of further education. I don’t envy him his situation.

Constant rain today, very heavy at times, but it’s still quite warm. Dad was annoyed at today’s TUC Congress; he said that their decision to give full support to the striking miners was “shocking” and “disgusting,” and declared it to be a “turning point in this country.” TV shots of the miners demonstrating outside the Congress elicited the usual “Look at that lot! You can’t tell whether they’re men or women” etc. “Look at that face—a shocking man,” he said when McGahey appeared, and he emphasised this last point with muttering and sighs.

Ever the reasoned polemicist.

I suppose I’m just as bad, flying into an internal fury on catching sight of the vision of baldness Alex’s friends uniformly present. They’re so utterly predictable, and this is what irritates me, but I never stay around to find out what they’re actually like as people; maybe this is unreasonable but I feel I’ve got the measure of them. Their ‘uniform’ of ‘weirdness’ and dole culture alienates me immediately.

Genesis P. Orridge was on ‘Earsay’ the other day talking about his mixed-media ideas, which I found quite interesting—but why the tired iconography of skulls and shaven-headed mysticism? It’s a tricky path negotiating judging harshly and failing to judge at all; both attitudes lead to manifold errors.

Andrew has been in Denmark since a week last Wednesday. Sten owed him some money from when he worked the festival last time and so paid for his airfare over. He hasn’t been in touch yet.