Nothingness encapsulated. You won't feel a thing.

Friday, April 28, 2006

It's 1988 now. Margaret Thatcher is entering her third term of office and talking confidently about an unbroken Conservative leadership well into the next century. My youngest daughter is seven and the tabloid press are circulating the idea of concentration camps for persons with AIDS. The new riot police wears black visors, as do their horses, and their vans have rotating video cameras mounted on top. The government has expressed a desire to eradicate homosexuality, even as an abstract concept, and one can only speculate as to which minority will be the next legislated against. I'm thinking of taking my family and getting out of this country soon, sometime over the next couple of years. It's cold and it's mean spirited and I don't like it here anymore.

Goodnight England. Goodnight Home Service and V for Victory.

Hello the voice of fate and V FOR VENDETTA. (Taken from Alan Moore's introduction to the original run of V for Vendetta, 1988)

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