To Tower Hamlets, as Pepys would have said, if Tower Hamlets had existed in those days, to meet a couple of friends at the Approach Tavern in Bethnal Green. We discuss a lot of things, from whether global warming is just what the penguins of South Africa have been waiting for, to the best way to get today's students to wake up to their destiny as the age becomes more radical. Older types are clearly fed up with the way things are going - one of my friends tells me how the mood in Hackney is similar to that in Walthamstow where council ineptitude is concerned - we discuss the case of Iain Sinclair, and the Red Rose Empire. We do not have to discuss the scam that is the Olympics. I have mentioned that before in the context of other frightful local nonsenses.

I recall how Michael Rosen campaigned here in Walthamstow over the closed St James's Street Library issue and performed in the market not too long ago. He can be glimpsed looking concerned in the video clip above.

Of course, the conversation ranged over many other important matters; what each of us are up to; and to lighter issues from the etiquette of letting young men know the real age of the lady whose fancy may or may not have taken them; to whose round it is; to the professional issues involved in preventing a charity we are all concerned about wasting its donors' money and staff members' energies due to management ineptitude: One of my friends has just walked away, as I did some time back, rather than be immersed in the merde. He is contemplating litigation, which is never a restful thing to do. He is also contemplating growing rhubarb in France, so the court case may not come off quickly.

We decide that the time is coming for long walk of the dogs over the marshes and a drink-off in the High Street, to determine if Rossi's or Rio's outshines the other in the organised loafing stakes.