The past few days have been marked by the number of Light House Media people I’ve been in touch with in one way or another. More or less recovered from the extended ‘session’ with Chris and Ros. It was good to catch up and now Chris has a job at Maverick and Ros has offered to get me one at Thomas Cook I may end up seeing more of them. Met up with Jackie and Nikki for a lunch at the Orange Studios and got the dates for their documentary. Not quite sure what my level of involvement will be as Assistant Producer, (or is it Production Assistant?). Spoke to Matt and Jamie, separately, on the phone; I should be working with both of them at some point in the next few weeks/months. Maybe I can make a go of this meeja malarky afterall.
Anyway, Mom comes back from Bangladesh later today so a nice drive down to Heathrow in the morning. At least she’s timed her return for before the beginning of the war.
Donald seems to have dealt Tony a ‘friendly fire’ of a punch and looks like the UN vote may not even go ahead. It was so obvious that it wasn’t going to happen, why did they, (the British Government), persist – they’re becoming delusional. I think Tony’s inner circle have become so accustomed to spinning their way out of tricky situations, and relied so much on the fickle nature and short attention span of the media and the public, that they just don’t know what to do in this situation. This must be the first time he’s encountered the true bulldog spirit of the Great British public.
Meanwhile in Palestine, the occupation, intimidation and defiance continues. I read a story on the Beeb’s website that was quite moving; a reporter has been living with a Palestinian family in Nablus for a week and he reports upon the experience. In particular, I’ll higlight these paragraphs:
But the moment I’ll probably remember longest came after the Israelis had been ransacking Nablus’s old quarter, the Casbah, for four days.
The city’s mayor called for a peaceful protest. At 2030 exactly that evening people began, en masse, to let out Islam’s famous cry – Allahu Akbar, God is Great.
Men and women, the young and the old came out onto thousands of balconies and rooftops in driving rain to shout at the top of their voices – over and over again.
Their cries and whistles began to merge and swell.
In the end, it seemed that the whole city was roaring into the night – demanding that God and the world hear its rage and defiance.
In the morning the Israeli army pulled out of the Casbah.
Earlier I watched a program on BBC1, (a good day for aunty!), about Nelson Mandela, one of the most moving moments in the program came when we watched a few sessions of The Truth and Reconciliation Council. Where white security forces were pardoned for their acts of brutality in return for full confessions to the council and, poigniently, the victims of their acts. After that, some black freedom activists were confronted and pardoned by a devestated white man whose wife had been killed by them. It was powerful stuff; this Council and it’s pivotal role in preventing a blood bath out of revenge at the ending of apartheid was only possible because of the stature of a man like Nelson Mandela.
If only the so called leaders of the Western world were big enough to see that a statesman’s path to peace has already been mapped out for them.