The bench of Brexit

What gets me down is not just how badly things are going in the UK at the moment, and undoubtedly getting worse, it's the fact that the media won't talk about it honestly. We're being gaslighted on a daily basis. How, for example, can we be talking about asking people to pay more national insurance without asking where that extra* £350 million a week for the NHS has gone?

I try very hard not to be angry and resentful to those people who still support the Tories and, indeed (and amazingly), Brexit, but my hatred for the members of the current cabinet is largely unfettered.

So when I saw the two chaps in my Extra it did my soul some good. I was walking back across the campus after a swim and I think they'd just come back from some kind of re-enactment meeting. Despite the shields and sticks, it struck me as an innocent form of escapism, and I'm not knocking anyone for that.

And in the evening, I walked down to the Royal Barn to meet the friend I bumped into on Friday for a couple of beers. It was Richard who I first talked to all those years ago about starting a company to do Internet development work but it was he who actually sorted the paperwork and set up the limited company.

(Admittedly, in the end he stuck with the lucrative world of freelancing whilst I mounted the extreme rollercoaster of running a business, but there were no hard feelings.)

And it was so lovely to see him this evening. I think the last time I saw him was at the birthday party in London for my fiftieth, when I didn't get a chance to talk to him much, so it was great to have a proper catch up with him. Such a smart and funny fellow yet with such a gentle nature.

*Not that I think anyone genuinely believed it at the time.