Thursday, 1st May 1997
Having no qualified opinion of my own regarding British politics (apart from "it's all bollocks, innit?") I panicked this morning and bought The Economist out of terror. And frankly, after reading the thing on the train, I still don't care. But not voting is not an option; we must all exercise our democratic right to support whichever bunch of losers we feel is less incompetent and malignant than the others, in the knowledge and fear that although the great undecided want to register a protest vote for change, they won't.
"I believe in coyotes and time as an abstract; golden words make practice, practice makes perfect, perfect is a fault and fault lines change; I believe my humour's wearing thin and change is what I believe in."
So in the spirit of the masses tonight I will cast my importantly insignificant vote and wake up tomorrow in a strange country, where I will continue to buy my pop music, listen to my comics, read my food and eat into the future.
B[X]
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