I was never a spy in Baghdad; I never had dinner with The Dictator and his charming family, or washed my nervous hands in his bathroom. I never grew up under a Stalinist regime; never worried about arrest when I spoke my mind, never crumbled in the cellar as the bombs fell. I left my seat at the meeting of the New World Order empty; I never chose which nations would stand and which would fall, never dinted my compass on the map of history. In a world full of cats in boxes I won't even pretend to know what it's all about. Other people can tell you that if they want to. They seem to know. Instead, my advice for positive action now the war has begun is this: Find someone, call someone, hug someone, tell them you love them. Do that. Be good to someone. Be understanding and sympathetic. Let people know that the world isn't all hate and anger. Pretending to die in Jack Straw's garden won't do anyone any good. Sharing a biscuit with a someone on your lunch break will. ++ Miller spoke about "up the bum" sex: << Another thing that makes me wonder about the sweetness of pain is moving house. I am moving house to Cambridge. It never fails to amaze me how difficult moving house actually is. I remember thinking that walking along a couple of streets with a suitcase full of Penguin Classics was difficult. >> I spent the weekend helping my granddad move house. It was great fun. Me and me dad got to drive around in a big van and wear blue overalls and eat pie and chips. But Miller's right about how difficult moving house is. Over the years, my granddad seems to have become sentimentally attached to huge pieces of wood and sheets of corrugated iron, which he seems to think he might need in case he has to build a shed one day. It's always good to have these things just in case, apparently. Put them at the back of the van next to the bedside cabinet, would you? I tried to move a suitcase full of Penguin Classics once. Those expensive chocolate bars really are heavy. I remember thinking I should have filled it up with Sports Biscuits instead. ++ Did Ken's Dream win, Carsmile? I wasn't paying attention, I'm afraid. If it lived up to it's name, it probably just jumped about like a big pair of bouncing boobs. I'm off, Robin x [ by express delivery : http://www.superatomic.co.uk/blog ] _________________________________________________________________ Stay in touch with absent friends - get MSN Messenger http://messenger.msn.co.uk +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+