NIMEMALIZA!!! The shadow has passed, sanity is restored, the sun is shining, enormous quantities of Kenya's finest will be consumed in very short order, AND I'm going home, so joy, joy joy all round.
The blog is almost done, the template is still slightly dodgy and there are lots more links still to go up, but patience, all will be revealed in good if, slightly belated, time. There's just a little irony in the fact that the blog consists mostly of commentary on the making of the blog, but i'll pretend not to notice that if you will too. It's been quite fun going through all the links I've accumulated and trying to pick out the best 20 or so for each section, similar to the feeling you get when you're clearing your room, find something interesting, and stop to read it.
So, anyway, President Kibaki has
Yes, yes this is turning into a NARC love letter, but how can you not like an administration that appoints people like these to positions where they can have an impact ? NARC will break my heart in the end, but it will have been worth every second...
If you haven't already been to big brother africa go over, sign up and vote Alex, OK, please vote Alex. It's time a Kenyan won something that actually mattered. So go on, you know you want to, you know you do.
If Soccernet is to be believed, Ronaldinho is as good as ours, which is, well...good. Apparently the Wizard has signed Tim Howard sight unseen (though apparently he was exhaustively scouted). The story is somewhere in the deeps of the Guardian sports pages and I can't be arsed to dig it out. So just take it on trust. Remember Massimo Taibi by the way ?
I was shown this earlier today, it's great stuff, I'm allowing it to soak through slowly and I might even have something intelligent to say about it soon.
Finally and most annoyingly, Blair refuses to have an independent inquiry into the collection and use of the intelligence about Saddam's weapons of mass destruction. The Guardian tries very hard to be angry about it but their leader-writer eventually dissolves into an acceptance of the fobbing-off by way of paranoiac self-pity and a repetition of the charges every now and then, as if to remind himself what he's supposed to get angry about. The Telegraph just keeps shouting "we won!, what's the problem?" over and over again, while the Times, with a reckless disregard for stereotype, positions itself carefully on the fence and sits down hard.
Quite depressing, and serves me right for letting go of my cynicism about politics earlier on.
This is utterly beyond parody.
I'm listening obsessively to Strangers When We Meet and can't get this bit :
My poor soul
All bruised passivity
out of my head.