Just realised that today's the 103 anniversary of the founding of the SPGB.*Cough cough* Happy Birthday to the 'Roaring Boys' (too many lighted candles on the cake is playing havoc with my sinuses). You don't look a day over eighty-five. Bet you never thought you'd last this long . . . fuck, bet you thought that you'd be up and gone at some point after your tenth birthday. (Shades of that scene from Von Trotta's 'Rosa Luxemburg', where Rosa and Karl Kautsky share a toast of sorts for the coming socialist century.)
OK, that's enough from me before I start staring darkly into the distance. I'll need to cheer myself by listening to 'Tropical Brainstorm', whilst the rest of you check out the recently updated Socialism Or Your Money Back blog.
I fell in love with a real city boy
Who's afraid of his nature, afraid of his joy
I punched him out and brought him to this hut
But I know he'll thank me when he wakes up
We got trees, we got snakes, we got acres of sky
His life in the city was making him cry