I lost a friend a few weeks ago, someone I have known for 35 years. Not to death, not to anything unavoidable, but to bitterness. The older he gets the more Daily Mail he has become targeting an unhealthy variety of victims from fat people, through scroungers to Somalian refugees. In those 35 years we have never exchanged a cross word until some borders of respect had been crossed and I felt the need to invoke Foucault’s principal of parrhesia. You simply must have some Foucault in your research darling. I didn’t expect his reaction though, I expected to be able to talk about it after all this time, but no, I’ve been sent to Coventry, the unpleasant bit. What a waste.
I am permanently aware of the relationships I have made and need over the course of this research, I’ve mentioned a few in the past however one I have curiously failed to big up is Marcus. A recent graduate from Hallam University with a love and enthusiasm for his work that I have benefited from in abundance. We take it in turns to be Master and Igor depending what task needs completing and if you stumble into the Fat Cat early one evening and see two blokes with drawn faces staring into the distance and not speaking to each other, that will be us after another long and arduous day.
Just time to mention another mate and top egg, Andy Brown. He’s just gone and done it again…