Big day for our struggling Republic. Wind chill, technical issues and snow blindness, so not sure what might be happening in the Halls of Power. Possible of course there'll be the beginnings of an orderly and sensible discussion around whether our president has behaved in a disgraceful and disgusting manner and should be removed from high office, marched to the scaffold, make it a TV Spectacular, have little boys throw rotten eggs at him, sell tee-shirts and beaky hats. The scene reminds me a little of the 12 formative years I spent within the boundaries of English Boarding schools, which were about as far from a Republic as you can get, inspired as they were by the Spartan's treatment of their own youth, who at the age of seven were forced from their homes, out into the world, where they were to fend for themselves through brigandage and theft. A character building exercise apparently, a sorting of the political chaff, I guess. Speaking of which, kind of hoping to again witness a little chaff sorting, but you kind of need your own backbone to do that, none of this what do the polls say nonsense.
Back in the formative years we too had our factions and we had a few totally inadequate high office holders, Head of House they were called, horribly obnoxious spotty faced, entitled delinquents, one of whom wore a cravat at the supper table. We on the lower tables had a visceral reaction to this particular Head of House, his every word and movement, and the prime object of our lives was through acts of aggravation that made his life a living hell, he was big on what was called Dumb Insolence, not saying anything but looking at him funny, the punishment for which was three days calling. You got up, you had cold bath, you dressed, you reported your presence for inspection to him as he lay in bed and you had to do that three times. Tie out of place, and whoop another days calling, your correspondent has seven days straight in his permanent record. The Head of House was found one early day light savings morning beating his own bloody head against the bathroom mirror, it was self centered and very thoughtless of him to get so worked up about his exams, make such a mess of the bathroom just before breakfast. He disappeared from our midst, and much grumbling as it took around two weeks for our House Master to get our mirror replaced. The Assistant Head Boy was promoted and for the rest of that year you could smoke in the toilets whenever you damn well wanted to and some of us, to test the new boundaries, started walking around with our hands in our pockets.