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Looked at a picture of Dresden today after it was bombed in WWII. Thought how much, with huge twisted bits of steel sticking up from the ground, it looked like the aftermath of September 11. Then thought how both of these images pale into relative insignificance next to the shots of a completely flattened Hiroshima and Nagasaki. And thought of how much I used to listen to the Crass single Nagasaki Nightmare. And all the hours I spent reading Protest and Survive. And how someone called me a communist – as if that was an insult – when I was on a protest march in Hull once. And how I used to wear a CND badge with pride. And how William Wardell told me that people like me didn’t care about the planet. And how I was already proving him wrong. And how angry I was about the world back in the early 80s. And how all that anger just disappeared. That I gave up trying to make a difference. And now I want to make a difference again. I don’t know what any of this means. But there you go, sometimes it doesn’t mean anything.

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