The Sun Shines On A Troubled World

Our expensively remodelled garden is bathed in evening sunshine and all the world can do is cast metaphorical shadows on the lovely scene.

Donald bloody Trump seems to have worn down all opposition to achieve the GOP nomination for President. It will not have passed you by that I do not regard this as good news. The man is a foul-mouthed, misogynistic, rabble-rousing bully, and the best thing that can be said of him is that he is not Hillary Clinton. Clinton seems his presumptive opponent for the leadership of the free world - a serial charmless liar, of whom we can very positively put it that at least she is not Donald Trump. How the hell did it come to this? Should we stand back and laugh or should we howl at the moon. There but for the grace of God etc. Oh but hang on, we go to the polls ourselves tomorrow (local elections so most of the enfranchised won't bother) and our choice is between parties led respectively by the smug, patrician Cameron and the utter buffoon Corbyn.

Just to illustrate the bleakness of it all, let us consider the nearest alternatives to the Donald v Hillary show (for Heaven's sake, it's not even the proper spelling of Hilary, ask Wedgwood Benn) - on the right there was the more than vaguely terrifying Ted Cruz, an evangelical Christian libertarian, if that's possible; and on the left there was (or remains, just) Bernie Sanders, a pacifist quasi-nutter graduate of the Corbyn School of Utter Bollocks.

For reasons not important to my current whinge, I have this afternoon been immersed in the total crapfest that is the Education Act 2011 and its doings. What baloney and proof if it were ever needed that politicians as a breed are actually opposed to any education other than their own. 

Do you know, the FTSE fell by 1.19% today and I am past giving even the vaguest toss. Such things used to vex me.

On the very bright side has been the triumph of Leicester City's millionaires over the multi-millionaires of the bigger Premier League clubs. Apologies if that sounds overly cynical - I do in fact acknowledge the Leicester victory as the best story in professional team sports for several decades. Football eh, bloody hell.

I am just listening to Donald Fagen's The Nightfly, one of the greatest albums ever cut and proof positive that mankind is capable of wondrous things to offset and overshadow the omnishambles that is modern politics.

Goodnight sweet prince.