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ravenI'm having a bad few days, mental-health wise. After a week or so on the up, I then decided that sleeping eighteen hours out of every twenty-four was quite, quite reasonable. In the words of my favourite author, if I did sleep any more, I might as well be dead and save on my board and lodging. When awake, I have been grumpy and entirely unable to get anything done. It's been... special. Still taking my pills, of course. I continue to be therapied at. I wish the sun would come back, that would help. Last night I tried to cheer myself up by trying something new with my eye glitter. This time, liquid metallic green with a layer of green glitter with a touch of silver on top of that. It worked, but I might not wear it anywhere but to a Hallowe'en party.
Anyway. Tuesday, November 4th. I'm looking forward to it. I really, really am. Because, well, I don't think that Barack Obama is the messiah. I don't think he's going to change the world forever. But I think he's a nice chap with a good sense of humour, with sensible policies, who inhaled in college (that was the point) and has kids who make fun of his pants. And when he speaks, he gives the impression of being intelligent, witty and charismatic. That's... that's great. I can go with that. I can endorse this whole-heartedly. I wish I could vote for him, but I can't, and I wish I could donate money to his campaign, but I can't. I can, however, sit up all night on Tuesday and drink. This is what I plan to do.
(In the meantime, John McCain is aware of the internet.)
In the meantime, it's cold and wet and cold again. It's November, I guess. Still here.
Despite the gloom, though, it has been a good and robust day for democracy as an abstract concept, which is actually what I meant to make this post about before my brain abruptly went south for the winter. This morning at half eleven![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shimgray and I were woken by the local councillors, who wished to know our opinions on the local council and its many achievements, and to leave behind a leaflet about their surgery. ("Bob and Oscar's Rolling Surgery" - srsly. I am not making that up. The leaflet has a picture of them being cheery. It's all very English.
(The thing is, though, I couldn't actually think of something I wanted to complain to the council about. The bin men come regularly and recycle. The roads are well-lit. The speed limits are low enough to make life easy for cyclists. The leaves are swept by small men on comically enormous blowing machines. It's as though... stuff gets done. My council wants to know my opinion, and I can't think of anything because I think it's doing pretty well. I think this is definitely a sign of a healthy democracy.)
Also, yesterday I found out that Sefton Council want to know if I wish to vote in Sefton. I'm a little torn on this issue - I am quite fond of Sefton Council, as they are cheerfully hung between Labour and the Lib Dems and accordingly also get a lot done. I don't know. Local government is usually unexciting, but it's a nice thing to wake up on a Sunday morning and be reminded that I'm a citizen. I'm still amazed at the concept of democracy, don't mind me. Am reading The White Tiger at the moment, the Booker Prize winner, and thus feel bound to qualify that: legitimate democracy, it's really great.
The day has been spent, also, watching The West Wing and avoiding an essay on EU preliminary ruling procedure. I like uncodified constitutions and the common law, I like being part of a system from within; I was never quite sold on the concept of political science, despite studying it for three years, because structural and constructivist political analysis is rigorous and academic but... dry. It has no style and no ticker tape and wet mornings waving placards and rosettes, it deliberately avoids telling you that you are an ordinary person in an ordinary place and you matter. Which is well and good and exactly how it ought to be, but makes me glad I'm now within and not without. Woman is by nature a political animal, I guess.
I would be a bad feminist if I had uncritical faith in the liberal democratic system, and a muddy thinker, too - but I kind of think that there are times and places for considered debate, and other times for sitting back and thinking oh wow, we made this.[1]
[1] yes we could.
Anyway. Tuesday, November 4th. I'm looking forward to it. I really, really am. Because, well, I don't think that Barack Obama is the messiah. I don't think he's going to change the world forever. But I think he's a nice chap with a good sense of humour, with sensible policies, who inhaled in college (that was the point) and has kids who make fun of his pants. And when he speaks, he gives the impression of being intelligent, witty and charismatic. That's... that's great. I can go with that. I can endorse this whole-heartedly. I wish I could vote for him, but I can't, and I wish I could donate money to his campaign, but I can't. I can, however, sit up all night on Tuesday and drink. This is what I plan to do.
(In the meantime, John McCain is aware of the internet.)
In the meantime, it's cold and wet and cold again. It's November, I guess. Still here.
Despite the gloom, though, it has been a good and robust day for democracy as an abstract concept, which is actually what I meant to make this post about before my brain abruptly went south for the winter. This morning at half eleven
shimgray and I were woken by the local councillors, who wished to know our opinions on the local council and its many achievements, and to leave behind a leaflet about their surgery. ("Bob and Oscar's Rolling Surgery" - srsly. I am not making that up. The leaflet has a picture of them being cheery. It's all very English.(The thing is, though, I couldn't actually think of something I wanted to complain to the council about. The bin men come regularly and recycle. The roads are well-lit. The speed limits are low enough to make life easy for cyclists. The leaves are swept by small men on comically enormous blowing machines. It's as though... stuff gets done. My council wants to know my opinion, and I can't think of anything because I think it's doing pretty well. I think this is definitely a sign of a healthy democracy.)
Also, yesterday I found out that Sefton Council want to know if I wish to vote in Sefton. I'm a little torn on this issue - I am quite fond of Sefton Council, as they are cheerfully hung between Labour and the Lib Dems and accordingly also get a lot done. I don't know. Local government is usually unexciting, but it's a nice thing to wake up on a Sunday morning and be reminded that I'm a citizen. I'm still amazed at the concept of democracy, don't mind me. Am reading The White Tiger at the moment, the Booker Prize winner, and thus feel bound to qualify that: legitimate democracy, it's really great.
The day has been spent, also, watching The West Wing and avoiding an essay on EU preliminary ruling procedure. I like uncodified constitutions and the common law, I like being part of a system from within; I was never quite sold on the concept of political science, despite studying it for three years, because structural and constructivist political analysis is rigorous and academic but... dry. It has no style and no ticker tape and wet mornings waving placards and rosettes, it deliberately avoids telling you that you are an ordinary person in an ordinary place and you matter. Which is well and good and exactly how it ought to be, but makes me glad I'm now within and not without. Woman is by nature a political animal, I guess.
I would be a bad feminist if I had uncritical faith in the liberal democratic system, and a muddy thinker, too - but I kind of think that there are times and places for considered debate, and other times for sitting back and thinking oh wow, we made this.[1]
[1] yes we could.
