Andy's Glasses

With all this war going on and Scotland washing away in storm Babet, we’ve almost forgotten two very important facts.
1. Proper football returns again after the poxy ‘international break’.
2. England are in the semi-finals of the Rugby World Cup!!! Tonight!!!

In the ‘other’ semi-final, the one good-thinking, right-minded, world-conscious Inglish people don’t give a shit about, The All Blacks thrashed the Argies. Not really a surprise in the result but a massive result in the manner and magnitude of the victory. Because the All Blacks, having appeared to struggle a bit, losing to France early on, not playing to their maximum potential, poor in form, suddenly showed everybody that this current team is worthy of the shirt. Oh. My. God, they’re worthy. Fast and powerful. Yet, as so often with those pesky Kiwis, amazingly skilful. You have to admire them and hate them, in equal measures.

But tonight it’s not about ‘them’. It’s England playing South Africa in an attempt to right the holy wrong which was the last World Cup Final when we lost to the horrible ‘Boks’ because… they must have cheated. Cheated us, cheated rugby, cheated GOD!!! There is no other reason they could have won that game.

And really, there was no reason they should have won last Sunday’s game against France in their quarter final. England had already breezed past Fiji in their own one, so we were just watching to ‘see who England were going to beat next week’. And with almost the same certainty that ‘next week’ has now arrived, that match between France and the horrible Saffers was possibly the best rugby match I’ve seen. But like ‘everrrrrr’!!! The final of the 2003 World Cup was brilliant but mainly emotionally because we won it. And it was against the Aussies. In Sydney. But last Sunday night was simply incredible. The first 30 minutes saw six tries, 3 each, with the French re-defining ‘quick’ rugby and yet unable to keep up such pressure without leaving holes, which those Boks flew into en masse. It was so intense I almost spilled my tea. Nearly fell off the sofa. I was THAT engaged. And South Africa won. By one single point. After 80 minutes of, basically, holding my breath.

But we can beat them! (He says with all the confidence of a young child standing up against a tank). And reach the final.

Happy Saturday

A xxxx

And thus the world divided. After an act of the most savage, merciless and horrendous butchery since Srebrenica, followed by Israeli bombardment and blockade on Gaza, it is probable than not one person in the world has ‘changed sides’. Our preconceptions, our bias, conscious or not, endures. We make the events fit our own internal narrative, in line with our own sense of ‘morality’.

Jeremy Corbyn is a case in point. Possibly an extreme case but only in that he expresses his prejudices in public where most don’t. And he was one of the first on the bandwagon shouting about the ‘humanitarian crisis in Gaza’, understandable because it is definitely a crisis. Yet when asked about the 1400 people massacred by Hamas he was only concerned with the historical justification behind it. Thus for the ‘Gaza is apartheid!’ brigade, mass murder of a civilian population is NOT a humanitarian crisis. Killing of humans somehow doesn’t qualify. Tying up 20 children at Kibbutz Be’eri and burning them is not, for those of a Corbyn-type mind-set, a moral issue as much as the political issues ‘causing’ such a thing to occur.

All those people, worldwide, who actually celebrated the deaths of those 1400, from Sydney to Southwark, Wadi Rum to Westbourne Grove, are now screaming ‘humanitarian crisis’ too. Again, I have to wonder about the restrictive nature of their understanding of ‘humanity’. But they won’t change. As soon as ‘evidence’ appeared to upset the indignation about the alleged ‘Israeli airstrike on a hospital’, the message changed immediately to one of ‘FAKE NEWS!!!’, and American lies. Unlikely that those currently setting fire to Embassies in Cairo, Istanbul and Amman will suddenly start collecting funds for the IDF.

And I’m not likely to change mine either. I like a narrative which aligns with my undeniable prejudice, bias and beliefs. I see Israel as ‘the good guys’, I can’t help it. I know where their values lie, the national values, their version of ‘morality’ and it agrees with mine. I am not Israeli. I don’t agree with everything that nation does. Like I don’t agree with everything my nation does either. The difference is, I don’t get to vote there.

So why are ‘pro-Palestinians’ intending to have a protest march this evening in Golders Green? Protest all they like, the inhabitants of NW11 don’t get a say in what Israel does. Not the Poles who run the supermarkets there, not the Turks who have re-branded half the high street ‘Likya’ after their fab kebab restaurant. And not even the large population of Jews who have absolutely no influence on what our brothers in the middle east do. Is it once again conflating ‘Israel’ with ‘Jews’? If you hate one you should hate the other?

Yet its the others who intrigue me more. What those with no affiliation feel about the situation. And why anything ‘Israel’ is a red line with about 90% of people in Question Time audiences. Whether the wanton slaughter of 1400 innocents equates to the right to protect the remainder of your people. Whether the population of Gaza should be held to ransom for the release of 200 hostages. And more importantly, how big a part conscious or unconscious antisemitism plays in those decisions.

Happy Friday

A xxxx

Ok, I’ve managed to avoid ‘the middle east’ for a few days now, even though it is most of what I think about when I’m not engaged in some form of employment or distraction. Like taking Lila and Joey to school early today so they could get a ‘sibling’ photo taken. Ooooooh, that’s so lovely!!!! Because no-one ever takes photos of Lila and Joey otherwise. But this is different! This is… official!!!

So Israel had what we now call ‘a pogrom’, which really is exactly what it was. Hamas is not an army, as such, it is just a group of murderous scum intent on death to all Israelis, men, women, children, old people, anyone and everyone, 1400 of them. Then came ‘the retaliation’, or the beginning of it, where Israel surprised no one by bombing the shit out of Gaza, but, according to them, focussing on the Hamas hideaways, bolt-holes and rocket sites. Most of which are ‘conveniently located’ in or by schools, hospitals, mosques, nice places where ‘innocent civilians’ are bound to group. And this, combined with ‘the blockade!!!’ has caused massive discomfort to all of us. No-one mentions that the power, water and electricity that’s been cut off is supplied by Israel.

Then came the ‘hospital explosion’. Which was something of a game changer, in that it involved the rest of the Arab world who suddenly and understandably became involved in the protests and ‘acts of rage’. Because the assumption was that as Israel is raining missiles on Gaza daily, it must have been one of theirs that hit the place.

Either because I’m a prophet, a cynical bastard, or a man either with a wonderful sense of fair play, or possibly with such prejudicial bias that he sees only what he wants to, I said that I don’t think Israel did that. They would never blow up a hospital. Could have been a mistake? But their missile strikes are incredibly, frighteningly accurate. Whereas the Hamas rockets lose at least 25% in ‘failure’. Not failure in going off, but in reaching their targets.

‘Experts’ (and many true independents, unlike America, friend of Israel, all their work is thus ‘tainted’) have now seen that the explosion did not come from a missile or rocket in the sky. It was terrestrial. Either a plant by the other group of militant jihadis or a rocket aimed at Israel blowing up on take-off.

Oh that’s good. But only if, at heart, you’re a ‘supporter’ of Israel. If you’re not, then its all just ‘fake news’ and ‘American lies’ and look what those bastard Israelis did to this hospital, let’s go and set fire to a synagogue in Antwerp.

Basically, we use our preconceptions to fit the scenario to the best advantage of ‘our side’. And that’s not helped by the BBC, who have managed, in 10 days, to become the absolute enemies of both sides simultaneously. They described the hospital blast as ‘Israeli’ before there was any proof or even investigation, let alone a viable statement. They’ve since withdrawn that stance… about 60%. Sitting on the fence so that half of Upper Regent Street doesn’t get blown up.

As this ‘introduction’ has taken somewhat longer than expected, the actual ‘point’ I wished to raise will have to hold you in suspense and eager anticipation until tomorrow, for ‘part 2’. Cos I gotta pick the kids up from school.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx

So there’s good news, always first. And that is that my dodgy hip (I know you’ve been really concerned; I can tell by all your messages of worry, support and love! Yeah, right) is slowly but surely on the mend. I can think about wearing left shoes once more. No more hopping when it rains. I can get that shoe on which is massive progress, even without the steroid jab suggested by Dr Needle-in-your-fucking-leg. I have the power to self-heal. Ohmmmmmm…

And then, in a really great result, following my latest, NHS, post-60, compulsory ‘shit-on-a-stick’ test, I won! I don’t have bowel cancer. And apparently, reading between the lines, I was so good they want to repeat it in 2 years. So that’s great. And great that we have such things thrust upon us. #morescanning

But then it all went to shit. Not ‘on a stick’ this time, but metaphorically. As I claw my way heroically and stoically (whatever Mel may say) from orthopaedic woes, as I am declared to have perfect poo, the worst possible scenario comes to light.

I get a… Man Cold!!!

And that, as any man knows (women seriously have no idea of such suffering and hence can’t properly empathise or understand the sheer debilitation caused by this horrendous virus) that is a terrible condition. Terrible. There is no real known cure; it’s a virus and hence just has to ‘run its course’. But the symptoms can be mitigated somewhat. First and foremost by tea. Strong, sweet and very very frequently placed before the invalid. Also, although paracetamol doesn’t really work, watching rugby does!! It has an amazingly curative effect, sadly that only lasts 80 minutes (plus ‘red clock’ time) but with sufficient tea deliveries, it definitely improves body and soul.

Medical advice strongly recommends AGAINST the planting of hundreds of winter flowers we bought last week, whilst under the effects of any Man-cold symptoms. Unfortunately the ‘doctor’s note’ to this effect Mel thought to be fraudulent. As it was written on the back of last week’s electric bill. You have to try.

Garden looks fab. Rugby was fabber. I’m still bunged up. But ‘fighting it’ like a hero.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx

A massive event happened in my life on Wednesday. Not, going to Brent Cross in itself, though appreciate that is a trip which, like visiting Mecca for the Haj, happens once in a lifetime (AND NEVER NEEDS REPEATING!!!), but the purpose of the visit: to buy a new ipad!!! Because the old one was… a bit old, ya know, battery needs charging every 10 minutes, but most of all; the keyboard was shedding its keys. And the main purpose of the ipad is to keep you, dear reader, informed and educated, not just because otherwise you are so totally fucking ignorant of virtually everything, but also to show you all how totally brilliant and wonderful I am. And with a keyboard and an ipad I can do that from anywhere in the world. Only this month, according to my ‘Google Timeline’, I have visited places as afar and remote as Acton AND Watford. So as I do this for you, would you please each send me 300 quid for the new one.

I brought it home, turned it on, dreading that moment when it wants my ‘Apple Id’ (not a fucking clue) or my ‘password’ (no idea), my ‘cloud location’ (wtf?) or any of the myriad other questions tech companies use to torture us with. Yet all it actually said was: ‘bring your old ipad close’. Oooohhhhh…

And it started to suck all the info from the old one, as if by magic, or osmosis, or by some force of atoms which only the Apple Corporation knows about. And I was seriously impressed. Thinking: now I know why everyone loves Apple stuff, they make it easy, seamless, painless and just intuitively straightforward. Bless Steve Jobs’… errrr… Bless his remains, I s’pose.

Then it stopped. Just ‘hung’. Oh. I called the support line, was told, sometimes it can take a bit of time. “Its had 15 hours; that long enough???”, as I’d left it overnight to do its thing only to later realise it didn’t know what that thing was. I did a restart, I went ‘back to factory settings’, so far that it starts to talk in Chinese when it comes back to life, and I did that three times. I went back to Brent Cross; the DOOMSDAY SCENARIO, came home and still it faltered and engaged in fuckage. I called Apple again and after about 6 hours, one game of tennis and lunch in between, and three different nerds, it has now reached the point where I no longer think “why did I bother?” But instead am ‘enjoying‘ the new gizmo… lots. Even though it now looks the same as the old gizmo, other than a few swishy bits, of course. And a new keyboard with all the letters rather than just ‘some remaining’. I even have the same photo of Lila greet me when I open it. This one. Which I’ll leave because firstly I love it and secondly because changing it will involve another call to Apple and, quite frankly…

Happy Saturday

A xxxx

So the bastard muthafuckas of Hamas invaded Israel and murdered hundreds of people. Just people, living at home, playing with the kids, visiting grandparents, maybe working, all dead. Whatever their age, status, degree of ‘innocence’, just fucking dead. Another group picked a rock festival. Kids. Young adults. Just dancing, listening to the music, probably taking a few illicit substances, who cares, then attacked, shot, killed. Other than the few they captured and took as hostages. Or stripped naked and paraded through the streets of Gaza for everyone to spit on and shout abuse at. And STOP!!!

Were those filmed on the streets abusing an injured, scared-shitless and stripped naked young woman Palestinian civilians or Hamas operatives or at least passionate supporters? I wish they’d worn badges, then I’d know who to hate.

Because in my wonderfully simplistic mind I really want to distinguish between those in Gaza who are Hamas scum and those who are ‘just innocent people living their lives’. I want a clear distinction. So that my anger and hatred can be directed correctly. So when I hear Gaza has no water, electricity or fuel, I want to feel sorry for young families, and old and infirm in hospitals whose machinery has gone off, I want to imagine that the ‘siege’ is affecting all of Gaza, the good and the evil, just because Hamas knew exactly what would be the result of their murder spree. I want to believe that there are good Palestinians. Who probably hate Israel, that is allowed and in their case, understandable. I hate a lot of what Israel does too.

How about those dancing on the streets of London and Manchester, celebrating the massacre? Or those in Sydney marching along shouting ‘GAS THE JEWS!’, doubtful they’re Hamas but they certainly get to be lucky inclusions in my mental ‘firing squad’ scenario. `

So how can Palestinians who support Hamas claim ‘INNOCENT CIVILIANS ARE BEING KILLED’ in air strikes, when their ‘brothers’ have just killed almost a thousand ‘innocent civilians’?

The siege must continue until every hostage has been returned. That’s the logical ‘next step’. Sadly, not the conclusion, that will take a few more centuries and probably a lot more deaths, but much as I worry about the kids (its always the kids, for me, sadly not for Hamas) over there, I worry about the grannies, but my own personal morality says that’s what has to happen.

And anyone trying to ‘justify’ Saturday morning’s attack, people like Jeremy Corbyn, dickheads like so many Oxbridge professors tweeting their nonsense without any apparent understanding that killing babies is wrong; full stop, just shows such the complete moral vacuum wherever Israel is concerned.

What a fucking mess.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx

I went to the theatre AGAIN last night. Twice in a week. My yearly quota eaten up, I don’t have to go again til next July. Not that I mind the theatre (very gracious of me, I know, right?) but I find it far harder to ‘engage’ with than movies, which remain my medium of choice by some way. And a shit film wastes 12 quid each whereas shit theatre has pissed away the month’s petrol money (for those cruel and destructive people who still do such things!!!!) and half the food budget too.

But you see we’ve found a ‘source’, possibly a ‘resource’ which sells tickets cheaply. You’ve probably been using them for a decade, but I never said I was ‘switched on’. And so we returned to the Hampstead Theatre, which is of the ‘fringe’ variety, cos who wants to go into town? And you can park, walk and support the community, giving yourself a big, smug, moral pat on the back for being such a stalwart patron of the arts, even though you got the tickets through a dodgy trader for a tenner each. Though it was ‘downstairs’!!!!

The main Hampstead Theatre is… well… upstairs. And rather lovely, big but not west end massive, and quite charming. ‘Downstairs’ is none of them. Though I like it because its such an informal space. Even though, of the 2 actors, one was… A Redgrave!!! A real one. Gemma. Fucking royalteeeeee.

The play was called ‘Octopolis’ and it was a cross between a lecture in anthropology and a David Bowie retrospective. About an octopus. You know, usual kind’a play.

And I’d love to say it was ‘brilliant!!!’ and ‘heart-stopping’, but it really wasn’t. Nor was it terrible. But it was basically a philosophical debate between a professor of biological science and Dr of anthropology as to whether an octopus (called Frances) could believe in God, interspersed with some really fab David Bowie tracks when the protagonists stopped arguing/debating long enough to dance before the rowing started up again. So it was clever. Possibly a touch too technically too clever in its debate, and you learned a lot about everyone’s favourite (edible) cephalopod.

If the measure of a play’s brilliance is its ability to keep my wife and I awake, then this scored 6 out of 10. But we were awake for some of it, so it wasn’t a total disaster.

And as a once in a lifetime (I sincerely hope) offer: in light of events in Israel and particularly the ambivalence of reporting, my lovely son-in-law was inspired to ‘come out’ publicly on his LinkedIn page. And did so with such heart-felt emotion and honesty that I thought it might make a great contrast to the usual trite and juvenile sarcastic bollocks of the usual offerings. Just click here to see it. It is quite wonderful.

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx

LinkedIn premable:

The hardest thing I’ve ever written.

Jews should read it.

Non-Jews should read it.

I suppose that means all of you.

Jew & Me

This post is about Judaism. This post is about Israel.

Not suitable for LinkedIn?

I thought I was meant to bring my ‘whole self’ to work.

They are a part of me. Not by choice. By birth and by belief.

***

Almost 20 years in the workforce and it’s time to declare my past cowardice.

Only when I know and trust a colleague – and there’s a need to mention it – have I let the J word slip out. I typically do it softly, in case others hear.

Today is about correcting that.

Forced not by courage but by duty to a small community around the world that has been rocked to its core.

Brought on by the greatest loss of Jewish life in a day since the Holocaust.

***

So the theory goes, Jews don’t count. From ‘You can’t be racist against whites’ to ‘Yes, wasn’t this weekend ghastly, but what about….?’

No what about.

No qualification.

No equivocation.

It just was. And it goes on. In firefights with terrorists on Israeli streets and in deathly depravity inside Gazan dungeons.

Sympathy for Israel at this time should not be deemed bold, risky or political. It must simply be reckoned human.

Should you take anything from my words, let it be this:
If you’re mulling whether to message your Jewish friend to see if they’re OK, send it.
If your hand is hovering over the ‘like’ button of a heart-rending post for fear of offending an unreasonable person in your network, press it.
If you disagree in a conversation with someone trying to justify the butchery of babies, rape of civilians and murder of partygoers, speak it.
***

Jews do count, to be clear.

Pretty well, too. Sadly all the way to six million.

Look at me, another Jew banging on about the Holocaust again.

For the avoidance of doubt, the greatest crime in history – with two-thirds of European Jewry wiped out – deserves repeated air time.

Blame the deniers, not me. And blame the new rise of Jew hate.

***

They say that anti-semitism is a light sleeper.

It was roused in my neighbourhood this morning, with my favourite falafel joint having its windows smashed in. From fresh, hostile chillis yesterday to fresh, hostile graffiti today. Kristallnacht this was not, but the resonance runs deep and the slope is slippery.

Such intimidation is not a new phenomenon following this weekend. But, as suffered by my local restaurant, this weekend will exacerbate the bile.

The starting point was already a depressing place. Here’s a pair of drops from a vast, polluted ocean:
Two weeks ago my football club wished Jews well over the fast on Yom Kippur – our holiest day. It was deluged with hateful abuse.
Our synagogues, kindergartens and schools require security guards. Not just now. Ever since I can remember. We Jews do our stints as volunteers providing eyes and ears alongside the professionals. Not paranoia. Necessary based on frequent threats.
We live with this daily crap.

Shouldn’t have to, but the oldest form of racism lies in the bones and mouths of many.

Always has.

***

Like numbers of you, I’ve been through family divorce, personal loss, other traumas. Still, I’ve never cried so much as recent days.

On my daughter’s bed.

On my way to the gym.

In my wife’s arms.

In front of my team.

Writing this.

The inhumanity visited on families, kids, teens, Generations X to Z, the elderly – in their homes, their playgrounds, their beds, their wheelchairs, their festivals – has not just broken the heart.

It has challenged the lifelong sanctity in my mind of Israel as a safe space for Jews.

It will recover.

But the scars will endure.

Even with salt added to open wounds by unspeakable celebrations in parts of the UK since Saturday.

***

We need to learn that being pro- one thing does not mean you must be anti- another.

Support does not have to be a zero-sum game.

Yes, there are sides to every story and people diverge in outlooks, but these atrocities were undeniably a horrific catastrophe for a people.

Mine is an appeal to:
Repel the extremes.
Reject division.
Side with humanity.
Do so and you’ll find yourself on the team with everyone that belongs.

Which is why today I’m publicly owning Jewishness before my professional network. I want to belong as the real me.

***

If this hopefully uncontroversial post – it is about love not hate – surreptitiously denies me work somewhere in future, that’s OK. Not the place for me.

Now time to don the pictured Star of David for the first time since my Bar Mitzvah as I attend the London vigil, surrounded by shaken but stirred fellow Jews.

It was a gift from my fearless late Grandma, a British Jew who cycled through Berlin in 1938.

A braver Jew than me.

Today I start pedalling to catch up.

***

PS I will keep comments on, but if it turns ugly they are going off and private messages remain welcome, because my feelings are not up for debate.

There were 4,000 people… demonstrating?… protesting… ok, vigil-ing last night on Whitehall opposite Downing Street. According to the papers. I didn’t count but didn’t seem like quite that many to me, I’d have guessed 800. Spurs Paul was there, I saw The Wolfman and I know Tory Boy was there with his mate, The Very Posh Scouser, but the rest I never counted. My error. There was also a woman waving an Iranian flag. And to be honest, I really like that. Because everyone is allowed their view. So ‘we’, the mob, had a choice: stone her to death and stick an Israeli flag in each eye; or ignore her.

When I came home Mel was screening a Pray for Israel event at a local synagogue. We opted not to go on the grounds that being so close to Yom Kippur, it would have exceeded my annual limit on pray-time. But the Chief Rabbi was there, and he gave a fabulous speech. And then, amazingly, Rishi Sunak was there too. And he came up, wearing his little head cover kippa, and looked like a barmitzvah boy. But also gave a heart-warming speech in support of Israel. “We will not just support Israel today, nor just tomorrow, but…” and in my mind the next line was “until the next election”, though what he actually said was “always!!” Very appreciated that the PM himself cancelled everything to come to Finchley.

Because people are hurting. Not just in Israel where that is sadly, literally the case, but here. We are all ‘hurting’. Is it because these are ‘my people’? I’m not sure. I’m not Israeli, I’m a card-carrying, life-long, born-and-bred Cockney scumbag. Definitely not Israeli, I just go on holidays there, fairly often. They often argue is being Jewish makes you part of a race? A religious minority? An ethnic group? What it really is is an identity. Linked by a culture. And a history filled with people who hate us and try to get rid of us, one way or another. Not for nothing is antisemitism called ‘the oldest hatred’. Which is why Israel is so important. It offers refuge and security that we all hope we’ll never ever need.

And the images of beautiful children killed by terrorists is heart-breaking. Images of other beautiful children taken hostage, along with others to a future so horrendous you simply can’t even let your mind go there, is beyond humanity. As is having street parties celebrating these events. But supporters of Hamas revere death. Or simply don’t give it consideration, no matter who is dying.

Because Saturday’s attack was not spontaneous or random, it was planned with precision and care. Which means ‘the aftermath’ was not only considered but planned as well. That being; a massive Israeli offensive into Gaza. There could be no question of that inevitability. Therefore, for Hamas’s attack, whatever the reason, the known cost was basically throwing the entire population of their own home under the proverbial bus. And why? To inflame more Palestinians, hopefully, as far as they’re concerned, their ‘mates’ in Hezbollah, who share a sponsor (Iran) if not a complete ideology, so that they might join the attack on Israel too from Lebanon and the West Bank. With Iran sitting back admiring its handiwork, watching from afar. As it does in Yemen.

I just despair.

Happy (ish) Tuesday

A xxxx

The Labour conference started yesterday. In Liverpool. And its really exiting, but like REALLY!!!! Because Labour have never, in anyone who still has the facility to remember anything’s memory, been in the situation of being ‘miles ahead’ in the opinion polls. Twenty points. ‘The election is theirs to lose!!!!’, as they say. So Labour don’t really have to do anything. In fact, best to say very little. Do nothing. Make no promises, keep the plans vague. No decisions on spending, taxing, no need to balance the books, Diane Abbot can do that after they’ve won. Basically, keep shtum!!!

Because a 20 point lead is truly massive and can’t realistically get any higher. But it can come down. Oh yes, it can come down.

The easiest way for it to significantly reduce is to increase the amount of air time given to their leader. The man who exudes such confidence he could reduce a room full of rappers to insecure wimps and nervous wrecks in 10 minutes. The deputy leader, Angela Rayner may be fucking huge, but she’s 6 foot of toxic redhead gobbiness and northern Corbynism. Speaking of whom, they asked him on his way into conference about the Hamas attack, and he immediately blamed Israel. Big fucking surprise. Leopards, spots…Though why is he there? Wasn’t he banned from the party?

Anyway, we are the best Labour party in 40 years, possibly 50, no-one can remember any viable Labour person since Tony Blair and he wasn’t really ‘Labour’ in any true sense of the party values anyway. So I’m going to say ‘anyway’ once more, its my word of the day. Anyway, This is what we’re going to say in response to ANY question: “this government has wrecked this country for the last 12 years and their leader is weak”. Rinse and repeat. And repeat and repeat… ad infinitum. Which is what it feels like when you hear any of them speak. An infinite depth into blame-ism. Because that won’t upset any prospective voters. No. It’ll just bore them to tears.

Conference will be interesting… in an exceptionally boring way. Evasion, obfuscation and blame. The holy trinity of Labour Policy. Cos if ‘we’ say anything, we might upset someone.

Meanwhile, in case you weren’t aware: WE’RE TOP OF THE LEAGUE!!! Oh. My. God!!! We enter the ‘international break’ sitting oh so pretty. All we can hope is, unlike the Labour party, we haven’t peaked and the only way is down.

I’m going to Downing Street tonight for a vigil. Don’t know if Hamas will take notice of a bunch of middle-class, middle-aged Jews in London but just feel I need to do something, however symbolic.

Happy Monday

A xxxx