Ahhhh, Glastonbury. Free thinking, let it all go, interesting music, masses of activities, safe, lovely environment. WHAT A THING! It’s like you can totally let go and feel the wind of change and disruption just blowing up a storm of rock and alternative foment and originality.
Older readers – readers over the age of 30 probably, rather than readers who’ve been reading this blog for longer than a week – will know Ste and John from Nintendo games such as, well, Plok. Well, Plok is now a comic, and Ste inks it regularly live on Periscope before putting a speeded up version on Youtube. This week, I offered up a soundtrack and he accepted.
Now I live in the UK, and I’m working on a dissertation about UK Labour. While we have seen insipid dramas about New Labour leadership problems and the bromance gone bad of Brown and Blair, all soaked in the aggrandisement or faux mea culpas of their acolytes and enablers, we’ve yet to see anything of the gravitas, production elegance, political rawness or basic bloody insight and entertainment of The Killing Season. Even if you know nothing about Australian politics, you should watch this and appreciate the importance of a decent public service broadcaster to its audience.
I am also quite sure that they were not used to the seaside, is it only the English who call it that? I know this because they didn’t know where to sit, near or far from the water; or how to sit, on a coat, on the sand. They did know how to hold hands, and kiss. Sadly she seemed to know how to remain quiet. Or she was laughing with him. Or she was laughing to herself?