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A lunchtime meeting...

I went into town today for a bit of 'on spec' volunteering at my favourite local charity. A very good outcome was secured for one of the service users, and I got to send off a batch of snot-nosed letters - citing the Freedom of Information (Scotland) Act 2002 and the Housing (Scotland) Act 2001, and demanding access to various policies etc. - to a local public body, always a favourite pastime. Snot-nosed seems to be my (unconscious) default setting in written communications with public bodies. Maybe because I used to work for one, and therefore recognise the nature of the beast. However, many good and decent people toil away unthanked in them too, and without them we'd all be living in squalour.

Anyhow, I had a lunchtime meeting with one of the local parliamentary candidates, who was after a briefing on housing and homelessness issues. I have him one, and got the impression that he might even do something with it - having little hope of even keeping his deposit on 5th May, let alone winning, but with an eye to the next lot of council and Scottish Parliament elections (which will be under PR) and wanting to put some markers down for his party on local poverty issues, he may well actually do something. I have him going to the eviction/small debt Court in Aberdeen next Thursday. That's always an education.

Here's a timely quote from Dickens (Little Dorrit):

"The Circumlocution Office was (as everybody knows without being told) the most important Department under Government. No public business of any kind could possibly be done at any time, without the acquiescence of the Circumlocution Office. Its finger was in the largest public pie, and in the smallest public tart. It was equally impossible to do the plainest right and to undo the plainest wrong, without the express authority of the Circumlocution Office. If another Gunpowder Plot had been discovered half an hour before the lighting of the match, nobody would have been justified in saving the parliament until there had been half a score of boards, half a bushel of minutes, several sacks of official memoranda, and a family-vault full of ungrammatical correspondence, on the part of the Circumlocution Office.

"This glorious establishment had been early in the field, when the one sublime principle involving the difficult art of governing a country, was first distinctly revealed to statesmen. It had been foremost to study that bright revelation, and to carry its shining influence through the whole of the official proceedings. Whatever was required to be done, the Circumlocution Office was beforehand with all the public departments in the art of perceiving--HOW NOT TO DO IT."


Douglas

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Latest reply: Apr 12, 2005

After a brief absence...

... of a year and a half, I have resurrected my old h2g2 login (a process of elimination eventually lead me to my password). Let's see if I can manage to stick around slightly longet this time.

Douglas

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Latest reply: Apr 11, 2005

Synchronicity - more than just a pop song by The Police

I was in Glasgow on Wednesday and Thursday, and went in to Borders Bookshop where I bought a box set of the Beethoven piano concertos. I listened to them on the train coming back home. Looking up at one point I saw, above the headrest on the seat I was facing, Beethoven's head and face, glowering back at me. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly looked round - more and more Beethovens lunging out at me from behind headrests. I was listening to the Emperor at the time, and I doubt that Ken Russell could have choreographed the whole scene any beter.

Someone had been sticking promotional flyers for the Scottish National Orchestra's Beethoven cycle in the seat reservation slots. I took a couple to use as bookmarks.

Douglas

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Latest reply: Sep 28, 2003

Upsetting experience

I had a rather upsetting experience today, and I suppose that it's as good a way to start off this journal as any other, so here goes...

I have some friends who are Grateful Dead fans, and they're currently Deadheading it big time following Bob Weir's Ratdog around England. The upshot is that Sue (my OH) and I have two lots of cats to look after - (i) Miles, Marley & Buzz and (ii) BeeBee. I went to feed BeeBee this morning, and - after watching John Wayne in a western about three outlaws looking after a newly-born baby (corny but fun) - left his house at 1pm. Walking along the street, I spotted a small black and white cat dragging himself along by his front paws. He must have been hit by a car or something. It was a spinal injury, and the cat wasn't in pain so I'd guess it was a bad one. The cat was dragging himself towards a gate - where he lived, I presumed. I went up the stairs and rang at the door, but no-one was in. Some other people had gathered in the street, but no-one recognised the him. I was about to phone for the PDSA when the owner appeared. He was verging on tears when he picked up the cat, and I suppose must have given in to them fairly quickly after thanking everyone and rushing inside.

I came home, had a stiff whisky, and gave my own fleabag some heavy duty (and, from the cat's point of view, completely unexpected and thoroughly appreciated) cuddles.

The image of that poor little animal dragging herself along the pavement will stay with me for days. OK, cats is cats, and an injured cat is pretty small potatoes in the grand scale of human misery, but I still say it shouldn't happen to a dog.

Douglas

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Latest reply: Aug 22, 2003


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