Hum. Didn't make it out to see Ed last night, unfortunately, because I found out after getting home that yet another person is in hospital. I was a bit shaken. You remember that yesterday I asked you to be careful . . . ? I meant it. Please be careful.

Today I've been wresting with a dirty camera. It's taken about three hours, on and off, but finally the front pane - a little piece of thin glass less than a centimetre a side - is clean enough to do microscopy through. Not perfect, but good enough. Any of you fancy my job? Nope, didn't think so.

I am amazed - although given their record I shouldn't be - at the treatment tabloid reporters feel it's OK to give to people who haven't asked for the attention. But of course the real blame lies with the people who buy these newspapers. Unfortunately I think few of them realise this or care. Remember, kids : glorified scandalsheets - they're not big and they're not clever. Come the revolution . . .

And speaking of millenarian events, I notice that George R R Martin has finished writing A Feast For Crows. There'll be one more (only one more, he promises) and then maybe he can settle down to write a sensible-sized book. Please? Pretty please?
  • Current Music: Future Bible Heroes - No River
It doesn't have to be important, relevant, or any of their goddamn business, as long as they can make a shock-horror story out of it.