What a strange evening this is being. A chance conversation with a colleague degenerated into a gossip session about former mutual comrades from our days of political involvement. This is a colleague who I know only a little, but for whom I'm sure I could entertain a deep affection. Anyways, as a result I have been googling the old school. Entertaining, mighty entertaining. And an email address for my old university flatmate occurs. Another man for whom I entertain a deep affection. Oh excitement!
Then I follow links from my bloglist and find this blog, which draws me in and reminds me how much I love the sound of singing bowls. And from there, I follow this link and read about the Madonna adoption through African eyes. And then I think about Purple Hibiscus, written by the author of that article; a book I enjoyed so much that it has stayed with me for several years. By some random process of mental association (not that I'm categorising both authors as representative of Africa, I promise!) I think of Ahdaf Soueif, another author whose work I find lingeringly powerful.
The association leads me back to contemplation of this issue which is exercising me mightily at work at the moment. I am vehemently opposed to the demonisation of moslems because of their faith, and the growing hysteria about veiled women and their integration or non-integration into British society. I find it frustrating that British society remains determinedly narrow-church and culturally imperialist in a world where those ought to be out-dated, out-moded attitudes. And I wonder whether my frustration and undoubted naivety mean that perhaps I haven't moved so far from my political history, after all?!
Anyway, I need to consider the level of inappropriacy around contacting my old flatmate on his newfound work email... and make some pasta before the evening twists out of control!
