Long and tiring day yesterday – London’s open House weekend is on, so I spent to tramping over town with my friends seeing things like the Mason’s Hall, The Guildhall, and a couple of churches. Should be off to do Christchrch Spitalfields today. After the tramping, because the club I’d be planning on going to was cancelled, I went to see a marvelous and strange cabaret. Some acts better than others, but a very entertaining night.

I love living in London. This will come as a shock to no-one that knows me, but it’s nights like tonight that make me remember how much I love it.

As I write this, I’m sitting in the cafe at the Royal Festival Hall, where I’ve come to the second in my set of “three artists I must see live before I die” – Diamanda Galas. I’ve already seen Nick Cave, and have yet to see Tom Waits. From here, I’m drinking a coffee while watching the sun set over London – a Waterloo Sunset. Not a perfect view, and the sky’s pretty murky, but it’ll do. I have a need to see one of these every so often, and this’ll tide me over for a while.

Because I knew I had time to kill, (and also knew that if I went to the pub with my friends, I wouldn’t want to leave), I got off the tube a couple of stops early, and walked the rest of the way, down along the river from Embankment to Westminster, over the bridge and back down on the other side, stopping frequently to admire the view. It’s sad that so few Londoners take the time to appreciate their city, which really is the finest city on earth.

A final note, before I get on with something more important – the elderly crew opposite me have just surprised me by complimenting me on my “Jesus hates you and so do I” T-shirt. I’m used the shirt getting compliments from my generation, but from the older one is a little unusual.

I wrote this on Saturday afternoon, intending to post it via my phone, but the batteries died, and I never got around to it.

God, I needed this, after the stress and the strain of the last week. If I could, I’d bring all my friends here. I’m sitting here, at a picnic table, looking out over the sea toward Rathlin, wind blowing cold and hard, but the sun shining, glinting off the foam as the waves crash over the rocks. Dramatic might begin to come close, I suppose.

I’m sipping a pretty rotten coffee, now, but I was round the Bushmills distillery earlier, trying some very fine malts, including the one only available at the distillery, the 12-year-old, which is very fine and smooth. Good for the soul.

It’s a little slice of Iceland, this, part of the same basalt plain that’s out there across the sea, the same expanse of hard black rock. It’s a bit better covered wih soil, and much greener, but the same basalt. More mythically, it’s part of the Scotish folk-kingdom of Dalrida, and the geography here is certainly something you could mistake for Scotland – the winding road through the Antrim glens is beautiful, and I’ve not seen a coastline to come close anywhere on the planet.

It’s nothing short of wonderful, after the horrors of the last week, to come somewhere like this, where it’s just impossible to be down at all. I said earlier in the week that it was hard to see the wonder and the light. Not here it isn’t. Like I said: if I could bring you all here, I would. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m done with my coffee, and I think I’m going to take a walk along the shore…

An evening round at Ryan’s, because the poor bastard is unwell again. Pissing about divining the future for his “Book of Answers”, a book with a load of vague (and indeed, not so vague) answers to any question one might put it. Now on the one hand, I am a sane and rational human being who knows that this is a load of old bollocks, but when it *consistently* produced (different) answers to my questions that basically said “you’re going to die alone and unloved – you bollocksed up your one chance, mate”, well, while I don’t believe it, because I’m not stupid enough to think that a collection of pen and ink can tell me anything about what happened yesterday, never mind tomorrow, it’s still the sort of thing that lodges somewhere and has me thinking “what if that were true?” and generally indulging in all the cliched single-person’s-neuroses.

Bugger.

Back from Belfast, relaxed and cheery. Went to Bushmills. Am now drinking fine single malt that cannot be purchased anywhere but the Bushmills distillery. Two of my best friends have just celebrated their one-year anniversary, which is a Very Good Thing. Life is doing well.

More when I’ve got my notes of the handheld.

In the meantime, here’s Grant Morrison to entertain you. Look happy.

Tangent to previous post: “I don’t meet people I’m interested in very often”.

This is one of the things that reall pisses me off about shit like Bridget Jones and the ilk. The whinging about how it’s impossible to find a nice man, because all the good ones are taken. Leaving aside the dull, PC (but probably true nonetheless) rhetoric about women not needing a man, etc. what really pisses me off about this is that no-one ever thinks that the reverse might be true as well – that men have the same problem. It just seems like a double standard to me – women are allowed to be choosy, and good men are rare, but men aren’t supposed to be choosy, because all they’re after is one thing, or something. Just weird and a little irritating, I guess.

(Yeah, I give Nick shit about being choosy, but then, that’s because he’s forever going on about how he hates being single, and then throws away chances, which just blows my mind. Yeah, if I’m honest, there’s probably a bit of jealousy in there.)

Later addition: the other thing that irks me: if a book came out featuring a man decrying most women as either slappers or bitches, and complaining that he just couldn’t find a nice girl, how d’you think it would go down? I mean, it’d be as accurate…

(And yes, I accept that books like Bridget Jones are written from a woman’s POV, and thus obviously can’t really make these point – I’m not faulting them for it, mind. I’d just like to see some representation of the flipside, that’s all. Knowing me, it’s probably out there, and I’ve just missed it entirely, or something…)