Farewell to the EU

I haven’t written anything about politics generally or Brexit in particular for a long time now, but I’m sharing this from one of my favourite fellow bloggers. His concerns, by his own admission, aren’t as pressing as those of a someone younger who may be losing the right to live and work elsewhere in the EU, but his sense of despair at the folly of it all is palpable. What are we doing?

LIT.GAZ.

I am becoming more and more despondent as the days tick by to 29 March 2018…

It was during a conversation with a Luxemburger whose studio I’d rented for my last walking holiday, that I realised I’d spent my entire adult life as a citizen of, first the European Economic Community, then the European Community and finally the European Union: I was 18 when we joined back in 1973. Although I felt happy then joining all our neighbours in the twelve (as it was then), two years later, in my serious but short-lived very left-wing phase, I voted for us to leave, in the first-ever referendum. We didn’t, I got over it pretty quickly and over the years came to enjoy the – mostly unseen – advantages that being part of the union gave us. Travel gradually became so much easier as borders, though still visible, disappeared in…

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Beautiful Souls Create Beautiful Worlds

I’ve been avoiding following the recent news from the US too closely – perhaps feeling that there’s enough similar stuff going on here in the UK. But this post absolutely sums it all up.

Tipsy Typer

She was 32 years old, her favorite color was purple. She was a waitress and a paralegal. She lived in an apartment with her chihuahua, Violet. She loved people and wanted the best for everyone she encountered. She felt the world so deeply that any story of hate or oppression could bring her to tears. She stood up for the things that she believed in. And because of this, she was killed- one week ago today the world lost a beautiful soul to the hands of hate. Her name was Heather Heyer; she was murdered when a car intentionally plunged into a crowd of counter-protestors who were ensuring that their own voices would drown out the hate spewing from the white supremacists who had charged into Charlottesville.

I didn’t know her, but I’ve known countless like her. Her death strikes a deep chord with me because she could have easily…

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