We'll get there in the end

Hi I was just in mid flow there and the computer went on the blink, so, in Mother Teresian form, I'll take that as a sign from God that I shouldn't go on about certain things in public! So here I am in holy solitude at home while my parents are away for a few days and Peter works. Buffy and I are having a race to see who can be the more laconic. She's just about winning by a drooping head. It was Peter's and my father's birthday on Friday and Sunday repectively. On Friday, Liam and I took Peter out for a pizza nearby, and then on to see 'War of the Worlds' which was universally panned, by us three. And then for a drink. We had a barbeque on Sunday as a joint celebration, with new gazebo and second barbeque et al. It promptly rained, but faired off a bit before the time of eating and digesting.

It is soon to be the twelfth week, when all good men come to the aid either of the party! or of a trip out of the province, which is our case, and we're off to the west of Ireland sometime around then, at least for a few days. The yearly intimidation gets under way, and we once again know our place. But one ray of hope is that the orangemen in Derry came to an agreement with the local residents and can march without fear of conflict. Hopefully, the example might be repeated elsewhere, of what dialogue can accomplish. But all the same, it seems along way to go to imagine the twelfth being carried out in a way which isn't triumphalistic, but simply cultural. The very drums announce we beat you, we beat you, we can beat you.

Independence day saw Bush go on about the War and how apparently there is only one outcome acceptable ... victory, just in case we were in any doubt. And the supporters cheered like cheerleaders at a high school basketball match where all the kids have to pray for winners. It doesn't matter how many dirty commies we have to kill, so long as we win and protect our own native soil from the onset of the evil empire ... oh no that was another war, wasn't it? Tell that to those killed in the 'precision' bombing. And once again bringing up September the eleventh. As if one act of mad genocide justifies any imaginable action now in any country whatever. And on to the G8 to talk down Kyoto, smile nervously while talking about protecting the american economy while millions starve in Africa and Asia and S. America, and end with God bless America, wherever you are. I watched a documentary on Robert Kennedy last night. What price wouldn't be paid for another Kennedy in the White House? The world needs one now.

I'm feeling very frustrated just now. I think I have to take up either political activism or else boxing, but my nose has already been broken once, so I better take up the boxing! Hopefully, the Live 8 will inspire more of the young to become involved in some small way. When Mandela spoke in Johannesburg it felt, but not completely convincingly so, that our generation could do something comparable or even more important than the sixties generation. But they really believed it then, and we need to have that belief as well now, just as Bob Geldof himself did show on Saturday. It's just a matter of finding that little - or even great - thing that only you can do, and to do it co-operatively. A nice motto i heard once was 'We'll get there in the end'.