So, while I spent seven hours mindlessly engaged in rebuilding fifteen feet of crumbling garden wall today, giants were striding the global stage: Smilin' Bill grandstanding, slick, at the Labour Party conference, schmoozing the dissenters and boosting Blair The Elder Statesman Jnr. while taking a sly dig at the junta back home; Uzi Fleischer calling a hit on Saddam because a bullet is cheaper than a war… even if that just put Saddam's psycho-creep son Uday into power and legitimises state-sponsored assassination (Question: So there is still a distinction between freedom fighters and terrorists?); and Bush repeating his buzzwords like some robot MC stoking up the audience for righteous slaughter. Why does that prick talk in that maddening staccato manner? Could it be he's getting his lines from through an implant from an offstage producer?
Anyway. Fifteen feet of wall in Northampton doesn't seem much to accomplish in the light of the inevitable demolition of Baghdad, but at least it's a step in the right direction. I wonder what steps the junta has planned once it has its bases secured in Democratic Iraq and has reimbursed the "coalition" blood-price with infra-structure rebuilding contracts and maybe an oil franchise or two. Iran in 2004 anybody? Or maybe sooner if all goes well this winter. Damn but I'm proud to be a democrat and have these moral bankrupts protecting my national interest with such backbone.

And so to bed, and delirious dreams of Pax Americana. And tomorrow? Ten torturous pages of screenplay… or another fifteen mindless feet of garden wall?