Jingo-ism

I'm moving on with reading Pratchett's Jingo, and it's making me depressed. Not because it isn't good, but because it's so damned accurate about casual racism in Ankh-Morpork and how easily it can be manipulated to the surface by idiots like Farage, sorry, Lord Rust.

And that was Pratchett writing in '98, god knows what he would have written if he could have seen the current situation coming.

Gulp...

My plan for this week to ring my gastro consultant's secretary to find out what's going on with my gall bladder op date (they initially said 6 weeks in mid-December...) and how much notice I'll get to plan around it just got short-circuited. She just rang and asked if I can do the 29th - so I guess the answer is about 8 days... Gulp.

Annoyingly that puts it just before my favourite weekend of the year, so I guess this means a very low-energy participation in Sweeps Festival this year, if at all.