CECIL THE LION - RIP

Cecil the lion
RIP

Like most people, I am outraged and heartbroken that asshole thrill killer dentist Dr. Walter Palmer lured, tortured, murdered, skinned and beheaded beautiful Cecil the lion.

Hey Palmer!

The day Cecil's death made the headlines here in London even a stranger at a little Moroccan restaurant struck up a conversation with me about it. His accent made it hard to follow word for word but our rage and grief were identical.  

Big "game" hunting is not a sport, asshole,
it's murder.

Of course it's easy to hate Palmer. Relief even. He's a member of that despicable group who pride themselves on being big "game" or trophy hunters. They are, in fact, clueless selfish rich bastards who think that wild animals, the world's living treasures, are their "trophies" for the killing, if they just throw around enough money.

Another gloating, shithead corpse rider

But killing is not a "game", is it? It's life we're talking about and it's murder. 

Rhapsodize away about the "glory" of the hunt, man's deepest roots or all the good hunters do, it's time to pull the plug on these arrogant sadists.

You can help by signing (even one of) these petitions:

United Nations: Ban International Travel for Hunting. NO imports of animal parts.

Lions Like Cecil Aren’t Trophies. USFWS: Don’t Allow Exceptions for Wealthy Hunters

DEMAND JUSTICE FOR CECIL THE LION IN ZIMBABWE

Extradite Minnesotan Walter James Palmer to face justice in Zimbabwe.

WildCRU - Oxford group who were tracking Cecil at the time of his death and currently monitoring his cubs.

Rest in peace, Cecil.

"...the time will come when men such as I will look upon the murder of animals as they now look upon the murder of men.” 
-- Leonardo Da Vinci

Windy Brighton

Yesterday was Kathy's last full day here so we went to Brighton to see the palace and today she leaves for Moscow then back to the States. Brave lady, 85 and traveling alone.

Kathy and M. at the Royal Pavilion

Brighton was windy as hell but, OMG, the royal pavilion was wildly and insanely extravagant. George IV drained the kingdom building it then, basically, ate himself to death there. Sorry, again, photos not allowed but you can get an idea here. Stingy policy, if you ask me.

Minerva at the beach

In any case, Minerva loved the beach.

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Houses of Parliament - no photos please

I was wrong. We ordinary people did not get to run around the Houses of Parliament snapping selfies willy-nilly.

They only allow photos in the great hall so, on the way out, we snapped a couple.

Anyway, what little we saw of the place was quite impressive, arcane and antiquated.

Although the House of Lords is currently being rocked by a very juicy scandal complete with cocaine, prostitutes and salacious gossip compliments of Lord Sewel, or Lord Sewer as one journalist called him. Lord Sewel is of the last of the 90 some hereditary Lords still in the House of Lords and has lived down to our lowest expectation of aristocracy, proving himself to be yet another pompous, clueless dickhead.

Another cold day in London

Me and Swami
warmer days in Segovia

Another gray cold day in London. Accuweather, which "guarantees superior accuracy" promised it wouldn't rain today. But I just checked again, you should always check again when you're using Accuweather, and now it says "rain starting in 65 minutes" and counting. Rain with a high of 67°. I'm gobbling my oatmeal and swigging down my coffee. We leave in 20 minutes. We're walking over, picking up M's mum because today we're taking her to tour the Houses of Parliament. At certain times, they allow us ordinary people to swarm the place with our cameras to do our selfies in front of all the famous statues. Swami is coming. He loves that shit. Well, actually he just humors me.

DITL not in America

We saw the play Gypsy yesterday and Book of Mormon the day before. Great casts. Great performances and, best of all, M.'s mother adored them both, especially Gypsy. And yesterday, on the way home, there was a show on the bus. Some poor woman suddenly erupted because no one would open the window. Actually, she was yelling at M. Lee because he wouldn't open the window.

Look at you! It's "summer" and you're wearing jeans and three layers of tops. It's SUMMER. Open the window. Look at you all. I hate you all. You disgust me. You're maggots. You're despicable worms. It's summer and look at you all. Sitting there like that!

No one moved or said a word until, that is, a guy in the back of the bus, started yelling back.

Get off the bus you crazy bitch. GET OFF THE BUS. Get out of here. Shut up. Nobody wants to hear you.

Then, of course she really went off.

You don't know what I've been through. None of you know what I've been through. Look at you all, sitting there in your layers. It's summer. You don't know what I've been through. The life I've lived. What's happened to me. I hate you all. Do you hear me? I HATE you all, every rotten one of you. You don't know. I HATE you all. Shut up. Shut up.

And on it went, escalating with each exchange.

If this were happening in America, this is when the vigilante asshole big mouth in the back of the bus, who we all wished would just shut the fuck up, pulls out his gun and shoots her or, other way around, she pulls out her gun and shoots him or they both pull out their guns and shoot each other and/or M. who was sitting between them or miss him and each other but shoot us and/or we all pull out our guns etc. etc. I don't have a gun so I'd just get shot. But it's London so, what did happen is, I pulled out my camera but, just at that moment, she dashed off the bus, ran to the end of it and started wildly smashing at the asshole's window with both her fists, yelling at him all the while as he yelled back at her but, before she could punch the window in, and it did seem just in the nick of time, the driver eased the bus back out into traffic and drove away.

Ok. We gotta go pick up M.'s mom.

London lowdown

We got to London a couple of days ago and are staying in a flat near Finsbury Park which is about six miles north of city center. London is so expensive, we were lucky to find anything even this close in. It's an uncluttered, two room apartment with a tiny closet-like kitchen owned by a nice couple who only recently moved to their new place a bit further out. M. Lee, who compulsively follows these things, told me it's got a market value of almost two million dollars (US) and that a 292 sq. ft. studio apartment on the top floor here is valued at over a half a million US. London real estate is back to pre-crash prices of a few years ago and still going up. Even he thinks it's crazy and depressing.

Morning after another night at
El Raval's drunkie corner, Barcelona

 
What I like is that, unlike where we stayed in Barcelona, it is actually quiet here at night. Last night was the first good sleep I've had in a month. The bedroom opens onto a lovely garden instead of the drunkie corner. Also, the apartment is near both the Victoria and Piccadilly lines. Very handy for getting around town.

And last evening, to our delight, we discovered that nearby Green Lanes road is a multi-ethnic foodie gem. We're not exactly foodies but we are vegetarian and always on the lookout for healthy cheap veggie take away. After Istanbul, Turkish cuisine currently tops our list. The Turks actually like vegetables so many of their traditional dishes are vegetarian. Last night we discovered gözleme, a Turkish flatbread filled with various toppings (for us spinich and feta), sealed and cooked on a griddle. On Green Lanes they are only £2 which, today, is just over $3. In a town where even the price of a cup of tea makes you think twice, that's a bargain.

Ok. Gotta go. We're meeting M.'s mom who arrives today for one week.