Bombsitery

See, I reckon the UN is missing a trick.

There's been all this research over the years into "smart bombs" but all they do, ultimately, is dissassemble molecules. If they wanted to develop a really smart bomb, it would find its way to your door, knock politely and wait till you let it in, then pack up everything you own into storage boxes, mark them as Fragile where necessary, and then pack them onto the back of a truck for you. Notsomuch a weapon of mass destruction, as a weapon of mass eviction.

Our place looks like it's been used for the testing of such a weapon tonight. The kitchen is decimated, but eerily clean. The bedroom...still has far too many clothes in it, but otherwise, it's just a boxful of air mattress. The bathroom - pretty empty. Our personal batcave - well Hell, that's never gonna be empty, but it's empty of anything that a) belongs to us, and b) we give a toss about.

The living room - well, it looks like the living room of people who don't live here any more. Boxes, wrapped-up bits of kitchenalia, one remaining couch, bookcases with their shelves out, wrapped in paper and taped together...I want to tell you it looks like a bombsite, but it'd have to be a very organised bomb...which I think is where we came in.

d and I have both been at home today, working our respective asses off, so again, I'm not gonna worry about the pizza buffet we had for lunch, or the chicken kievs and pasta I had for dinner. Just not gonna worry, or whinge, or bitch. Popped to the nurse at one point today, and with my clothes on, on her scales, I was doing OK, so, frankly, nehh!

The movers will be here about thirty-six hours from the time I write these words. And the next chapter of our lives begins, I guess.

Something that, of course, cannot be said for Christopher Hitchens, who died today. Hitchens, being perhaps the ultimate scorched-earth realist, probably understood quite well that it was coming. He's beyond gloating and victories now of course, but while he was here, it probably gave him some satisfaction to know that when he died, he would be more missed than many of the people he made the targets of his occasional invective. As a fellow journo, I for one will miss his no-really-cut-out-the-bullshit attitude, his breadth of reference and his uncompromising championship of reality over warm feeling. So here's to Hitchens! And to living as uncompromised a life as possible, for as long as possible.