Monday, January 15, 2007

Idi Amin

Was existing in a situation somewhere between 'Celebrity Big Brother' and a trip away with friends. Six or eight of us were living in comfortable but sterile accomodation somewhere on the crest of a hill. The only individuals I can recall were myself, my friends GT and NP, one celebrity: a tall, skinny black American television journalist, and Idi Amin.

The journalist was a friendly enough fellow, but annoyed me slightly by constantly reading from a spiral-bound pad in which he had been making notes concerning the character and likely prospects of each person in the house. Idi Amin, however, was (as you would expect) an intolerant and irrational brute. He were all terrified of him, knowing we wouldn't hesitate to use his massive fists in the face of some totally unexpected and unpredictable provocation.

At one point I had to get up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet. I crept carefully in the dark, full of fear in case I should disturb Amin and risk his volcanic rage.

We were all aware that he was about to face some sort of international trial for his crimes, and later on we all found ourselves observing his attempt to escape. At the foot of the hill we could see Amin's huge figure rolling on the ground as agents dressed in safari jackets and pale shorts (a bit like South African police) set big Alsatian dogs on him, the dogs gripping and tearing at his arms and face.

An unusually clear case of subconcious influencing by two current media events: the annual Celebrity Big Brother show, and the recent release of the film 'The Last King of Scotland'. - possibly also a trip to Barcelona last year when I shared a dormitory with folks including these two of my friends.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Lost in London

Almost penniless and no idea where I am in London, but taking various tube trains to attempt to get back to somewhere familiar. At some stage I am hanging around a busy station when I am taken for an employee by a Transport for London worker, who hands me a plastic tube with attached funnel. This is for distributing tea to the the rest of the staff; he also gives me a demijohn full of milky-looking tea.

At this point, I am distracted by a large flat-bed wagon passing the platform. Sitting on it are a variety of railway workers, some lounging, some sitting on crates and reading newspapers. Helpfully, the battered and well-used wagon has the words 'trainless drivers' painted on its side.