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From: Dominic Self
To: macer.hall@express.co.uk
Sent: Tue 13/07/2010 16:55
Subject: Request for comment

Dear Mr. Hall,

I am writing in advance of publishing a short comment piece on my blog about your front-page article in today’s Daily Express, headlined ‘ONE IN 5 BRITONS WILL BE ETHNICS’.

In particular, I was wondering if you could let me know what you envisage the remaining 80% of British society as being composed of? I had always assumed that human beings were universal possessors of ethnicity, but clearly I am mistaken in this regard. Could you identify the key characteristics of ‘an ethnic’, please?

On a personal note, I trust you will understand that any critical tone which I may take in my coverage of you will be purely in the interests of sensation and the courting of controversy. So if, for example, I were to describe you personally as ‘nasty’, or ‘revolting’, or ‘cowardly’, or ‘squalid’ – or, indeed, all of these things and more – rest assured that this would all be in the public interest and should be taken in a warm spirit of open dialogue and discussion.

Wishing you a pleasant evening,

Sincerely yours,

Dominic Self

Sadly, no response from the nasty, revolting, cowardly and squalid man at the nasty, revolting, cowardly and squalid newspaper has yet been received. Shame.

A thoroughly pleasant weekend! Yesterday was QPCS’s Summer Fair, and as usual they held some mini-debates between student members of the debating club (an innovation since my day, *sniff*) and parents. Being too old to qualify as a student of any sort (*sniff*, again) I was rather delighted to be invited onto the ‘parents’ side this year, despite my obvious failure to reach the sole required qualification. We had been assigned to argue the proposition for the motion that Britain today is a more civilised country than 21 years ago – it is, I tell you, although maybe not for much longer! – and thankfully, what with Britain being all civilised and that, no-one seemed to object too much to the fact that my mum was also one of the judges. (Not that it helped, anyway ) Anyway! It was fun, is all, as was the fair itself. To mark the school turning 21, they had a little exhibition up on its history, which was actually quite moving when you consider the circumstances into which QPCS was born. Brent in the 1980s was touchingly ahead of its time in many respects, but the idea of a mass exodus of students from its schools is pretty chilling…

Yes, so anyway, after the fair I went to Joshua and Niamh’s for dinner / drinks / rehashed debates about how to make a White Russian. All very enjoyable, except at about 11 I realised that I was dangerously close to just curling up on the sofa and contentedly dozing off, which probably would not have been greatly appreciated. So forcing myself to get up, I moved on to join the rest of my family at the Fox household’s multi-birthday bash, a house which I haven’t been to in years but which is instantly warm and comforting as a place where I spent many happy childhood days. (Including, let it be noted, the place where Tash and I were left to play whilst Katie emerged into the world.)

(You could tell it was a party of the great and the good, because everyone from Twitter was there! @charlottespeech, @giantlawnmower, @theyspellalice … all real and speaking in more than 144 characters at once. Excellent. I think if @alextrafford had shown up, I’d have been so overwhelmed I’d had have to run into the garden at once in order to get reception to tweet about it.)

(Oh, and the chocolate cake was superb. Happy birthday, Jack and Charlotte!)

And then today was Saoirse’s eighteenth seventeenth birthday picnic in Green Park, which was also suitably well attended by further delightful people: Saoirse, obviously, DF, Tash, Abbi, Paul, Sanna, Robert, Emily, Lucy, Alice, Jamie, Eliezer – have I forgotten anyone? – plus a very decent amount of food and drink. But after a great time, I still made sure I got home in time for the World Cup final – I know, weird, right? – reflecting an immense softening of my heart this time around. The tectonic plates have now shifted in our household, however, since dad has also joined in with the football – and as a result, the old reliable family quirk about the boys completely ignoring the World Cup while the girls sit around the TV has been forever broken.

(We’ll have to come up with something new now!)

OK, so if you’ve been reading this blog for long enough you might remember that Oliver and Abi have a reputation for pretty awesome birthday presents. But I have to report that this year they have completely outdone themselves, and with such panache that I have no way of ever making up for lost ground in return. But never mind. Last night I travelled up to the distant shores of High Barnet to be presented with the Secret Project (TM): The Doctor’s London Underground Adventure Game*.

That’s right: it’s a handmade, lovingly crafted board game. Based around my life. And with its own unique set of rules. This is, hand on heart, the coolest thing ever:

The beautiful game board

The beautiful game board

Official playing pieces

Official playing pieces

Some of my favourite cards from the ‘Deck of Cool’

Some of my favourite cards from the ‘Deck of Cool’

And some of the worthy adversaries…

And some of the worthy adversaries…

So, come on over and face a universe which includes: London Underground, Doctor Who, Battlestar Galactica, Merlin, True Blood, Twilight, mango beer, the collapse of Metronet, the ‘RSS Feed’ deck, Ken Livingstone, Boris Johnson, Hume, Marx, Hegel, Tybalt Capulet II, the perils of eating fruit – and much more besides! You know you want to…

*Private, non-commercial use only. Only one set ever made, so don’t sue. That includes you, St. Botolph. Take it as a compliment.

I’m easily bought. A chocolate brownie on my birthday (cheers, Mairi), free drinks (Niamh, you’re awesome) and an entire mouth-watering picnic (all you Märak-Freemans totally rock) are only the latest examples of the ongoing auction for my soul – and honestly, if any of you need any serious crimes committed for you in the near future, just ask*. But it’s not just food and drink, oh no! It turns out that e-mailing me photos of (now bygone) merry studenting times will work just as well. And so, in this journal of record, in the year of our Lord two thousand and ten Anno Domini, I would like to take a moment to officially declare to the world that Laura Rouse is a wonderful wonderful person

Feed me photos, and I will feed you blog love in return

Feed me photos, and I will feed you blog love in return

Right, giving a speech tomorrow** so the next task is an urgent examination of what I might actually say…

*Dear law enforcement agencies: stop taking the world so seriously – it’s not good for your health.

** Just to graduating QPCSers. I mean, I say ‘just’ – graduating QPCSers are also wonderful wonderful people. But it’s a niche audience.

Bow-ties should always be slightly wonky

Bow-ties should always be slightly wonky

As of Thursday, at least. And predictably I am immediately really busy, so won’t go into the finer details of graduation apart from to say that – until that very moment – I had no idea whether I would be able to kneel down, pseudo-pray to the Master whilst he spoke some magic Latin over me, get up again, bow and walk out of Senate House without freezing in panic or falling over. (I could!) So hurrah for all that