That land is my land...

So, first of all, there have been distressing, unpleasant, but in the end inevitable developments in my private life. These developments are, however, unsuitable for recounting in Greg's London Ramblings. Email for details.

Gay Pride was pretty much as expected. It's too tempting to compare it to San Francisco, which isn't fair at all. But still: it was really, really small. And less quote-outrageous-unquote. London pride definitely needs to learn one lesson from SF, and alternate music with political speeches on the Main Stage. Because one political speech after another after another gets... difficult to listen to.

Duckie's Gay Shame event was fantastic. The essay contrasting the Duckie and TShack aesthetics continues to develop in my head.

Happy Fourth, everyone! I've been saying to people, in an offhand tone of voice, "On Monday I'm celebrating the liberation of my motherland from her colonial oppressors..." It gets a chuckle. I'm headed out the door right now (I'm late actually) to head to the Mayflower Pub in Rotherhithe. The pub from which the actual Mayflower set sail in 1620!