A strange day. A lovely IM chat with my favourite Latin American ex-Trotskyist. You might not convince me of a 5th Internationl, Guillermo, but I’m almost tempted to reread the Transitional Programme. :) A bit of immobilising numbness. A strange exchange about Fleetwood Mac with the middle-aged woman on checkout at the supermarket. She looked oddly at me for a second, obviously thinking, you’ve got those weird horns shaved into your head, and you like my music?, but she also seemed genuinely pleased. These are welcome luxuries in such times.