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Friday, July 02, 2004


To the Lynwood cenema to see the 7:15pm showing of Moore's work. Car park packed. I was probably in the last 10 to have seats, but still they kept coming in.

A loud audience, v pro MM. Laughter, not much jeering but definite snuffles for the woman who lost her son and went to DC and vented her hate on Bush.

What a very creepy nasty thicko that Bush fellah is, to be sure. And he isnt surrounded by a particularly savoury lot, either.

A sobering silencing film that I hope has legs til this election. Does not Bush deserve some Baghdad-crippled youth to wheel himself up to his lectern, whip from under his wheelchair some effective gun and, er, sort of drill him? Anything to rid our screens of that squinty furtive look and that sinister beaky nose. I've not seen much point of other attempts on various presidents, but this berk seems an obvious candidate.

Applause at the end. Outside, a line right round the block.

I drive back via Safeway who seem to be training up a pack of new servers. Te strike must be coming.

I buy pizza and Friday luncheon and toss in a beer with which to toast the movie's success and dull my sadness and anger.

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