Idi Amin Dada Dies...and Garrigan Lives on in the Leafy Suburbs of Wimbledon...

"From my own point of view, I was also trying to explore, in a literary way, how sensationalism relates to the writing of fiction: at what point, I tried to ask myself, am I myself involved in the glamourisation of Amin's deeds? Where does the chain of responsibility and voyeurism that wraps itself around Garrigan end? With me? With you, the reader?" Giles was on the ball.

Giles also spoke with authority. He had been to see Major Bob in the leafy suburb of Wimbledon and knew what he was talking about. Bob, himself, had spent over 10 years in a Ugandan jail, and also knew what he was talking about. It was a meeting of the minds.

his reaction to The Last King of Scotland?

GF: Well, this worried my mother a lot, who despite having returned to Britain, still reckons that Amin's men are going to come after me! I tell her not to worry. It's not likely: he is living in Saudi on a small pension from the government there, and doesn't have the resources he once had. Apparently he has slimmed down a lot and now has the nickname Dr. Jaffa, because he eats large numbers of oranges each day. It must be true, as the reason is pure Amin: he believes they will repair his ailing sexual potency. I heard this from a Scottish businessman -- it sounds too good to be true, but I swear he was Scottish -- who works in Saudi and visits Amin from time to time. He has told me of the dictator's response: not being able to read, he had a summary made of the book, and on having it read out to him veered between fury and flattery. Although the Saudi government won't let me go there and see him for myself, I feel like I know him well enough to believe that this is how he would react. Ah well, you can't please everybody.

Bob has a habit of covering his eyes or forehead with his hand when he is recalling unpleasant things, as if the memory is too much to bear.

"They brought a man in. He was deputy commissioner of police and his bones were all sticking out and we tried to, um, repair him but they . . ." He makes pushing motions about his shins and forearms, mimicking putting the bones back, then makes the cutting sign across his throat.

He goes into gruelling detail.

"The prisoners, they used to pierce them here, through the Achilles tendon, so they couldn't walk," he says, getting down on the carpet and jumping forward clumsily on his knees.

"Others had to carry these prisoners when they went to be executed. I had a melodeon smuggled into me and before they went to be killed, I would play Onward Christian Soldiers and so on and we would have a church service."

Asked again why he persisted in Uganda, if he was an enemy of Amin, Astles claims: "It was because of my Africans, my staff, I had a lot of people who were relying on me."

He put himself through the fire to stay there, at one point cutting three tribal scars into his cheeks in an attempt to persuade Amin he had been captured by smugglers: "I had to replace them each Sunday, with a hot wire. My wife said, why do we have to go through this horror?"

The key to Astles, why he put up with the horror, is the lure of danger and the satisfaction of a job well done - whatever it is.

"Bob had to have excitement and adventure," Monica has said. Shades of Nicholas. Fun and adventure.

"His mind was always on the political intrigue.

" The risk of being associated with a regime that murdered thousands isn't one that he seems to have considered over much. There is something curiously disengaged about him altogether, as if he can't conceive of a moral dimension to practical activity.

"I loved it," he recalls, "and when my minister asked me to do something, I'd do it . . . And I'd do it all again. Definitely."

Idi Amin Dada and Pol Pot. Starvation and death and disloyalty and distrust.

.

I Dreamed a Dream

Dreams can be dramatic. Julian was in what seemed to be a car park surrounded by buildings. Ferocious wild beasts were loose and she was in danger. She realised that they were very close to her and running would be futile because they would easily catch her and throw her to the ground. Suddenly she was to close to comfort to a huge lion. She wasn't surprised that it was a lion, despite only having been aware of tigers up till now. She turned and walked towards a nearby door and knew it was following with the intent to kill. As she opened the door, she felt it's breath upon the back of her neck. She entered and literally closed the door as it was about to grab her. She raced through the building, up and down stairs, making sure that all the doors were locked. In some rooms, people were going about their business, and she would call down the stairs to them.

When I wake up early in the morning,
Lift my head, I'm still yawning
When I'm in the middle of a dream
Stay in bed, float up stream

Please don't wake me, no
don't shake me
Leave me where I am
I'm only sleeping

Everybody seems to think I'm lazy
I don't mind, I think they're crazy
Running everywhere at such a speed
Till they find, there's no need

Please don't spoil my day
I'm miles away
And after all
I'm only sleeping

In the same dream, she was about to drive out of the car park to meet Ruth, when she realised that Ruth was only 10 minutes away, so she could wait for her there. She turned the car around, and she had been literally about to drive out of the park. She followed another car and found that there were 6 cars in front of her and they all had to wait for a person who wasn't ready to tell them where they could park yet. As she looked around, there were empty car parking spaces all around her and it was puzzling and frustrating. It took ages and she realised that it hadn't been the best decision to wait for Ruth in the car park.

What does it all mean, and does it really matter? Julian was intrigued by the lion. The car park stuff just seemed to be frustration in life. She was definitely in a rut and knew what she had to do, but the doing seemed to be an effort. She had to make it, because she couldn't go on this way. She was shirking responsiblilities and everyone was noticing. It was just so easy to sink into the way of the world. Even those who knew better and knew how to combat the ways of the world, had their problems with it. No one was immune.

Sargeant Prudence Mayhem, (no relation), from Strawberry Fields, had also dreamt dreams.
"I don't dream." She stated. And then proceeded to describe her dream. A dear freind that she had known for years had walked into a place of true worship with bared breasts.
"No, no," Prudence had cried, "You can't come in here dressed like that!"
They then brought her husband's body in to the room in a coffin which they proceeded to place on the wall, sideways.
"No, no, don't open it," she cried, but it was too late. There was his head, looking like a mask.

Julian had just attended a very interesting seminar, which helped with these problems. It had as it's theme timing and how little there was left for this wordly way.

There was little mention of dreams. Endurance was the key. And keeping busy. There was a train coming and don't get to the station too early, you might not make it. Water the flowers.

Julian understood and made arrangements to have lunch with both Malaya and Mary and her hairdresser. All separately. Both before and after leaving with Hermione.

Blog Was Once Inspired....

Lovely had finally managed to be close to his children. He had moved back to Perth to be close.

He had done a runner through desperation in the early years of his marriage. He had been very fearful and had found that the best way was to come home when his family were out and pack his bags. He had then rung Cinderella, and told her that he wasn't coming back. She spat chips, then, and then for years to come. Cinderella had become grateful that he was moving back to Perth after some years, because, now, she was having trouble with the children.

He had helped Julian to set up a blog some time before.
"Why bother with a blog?" she had asked.
He had explained, and Stewart had tried to explain to Lovely that he might not like it.
"Nonsense." Lovely had said.
So away they had gone. Julian had written her blog, and Lovely was temporarily happy. Stewart was ecstatic and very supportive.

Along came Mary Hitler. Julian .............

had more to say.

Fountain Pens, Mice and Touch Pads

The speed and pace of life was almost too much. The amount of people and the advice and the stuff to do ,was overwhelming. Julian Fairfax Mayhem fell on her age and used her hormonal changes and menopause to excuse herself from it all, including diet and exercise.

Mary Leunig had a cartoon that expressed it. A door, the planet earth with a huge hand and finger, knocking on the door. A mat that said, "Go Away." Julian resolved to show Hermione who she had tried to explain how it felt........after many moons. Hermione had just put it down to too much alcohol and had expressed a deep regret to Count Dracula. "Oh, I am so, so sorry that she and I drank so much champagne together. I feel so responsible. It was terrible of me." Julian hadn't been impressed.

"It's like, it's like, I just want to be alone." Julian had said, knowing how much she sounded like Marlene Deitrich, and didn't really expect Hermione to understand. Hermione had exercise and musculature on her side......

....Julian stopped writing. She couldn't do it. It wasn't kind and that was an underhanded thing to do with words. Nevertheless, it wasn't good to hold it in and she had to try to break through.

When she spoke to her good and close and caring freind, Horse Ratfink, Horse had replied, "well, you left yourself wide open to that one," and they had both laughed because it was true.
Hermione's reply to Julian wanting to be alone had been, "Well, what are you going to do then."
She was referring to the coming journey across Australia. Hermione was moving to Perth, and Julian was driving across with her. People were referring to it as the 'Thelma and Lousie' trip.

Julian wondered which one of them would get Brad Pitt. Who would rob the bank? Who would drive crazily towards the cliffs and keep going? She hoped it would as dramatic as the Nullabor Cliffs. They were a priority to the Albany Natural Bridge, but either, or.

Malaya asked if Julian was ready. Julian had said she had plenty of time. They left in a week.
"I'm taking the small chopping board, the good knives and the citrus squeezer."
"You've got your priorities right then. How long will it take you to pack?"
"A day."
Malaya laughed. She was someone who knew how to dispense with the encumberances of life. It came in, it went out. She was not a sentimental girl. She told of the time that she was leaving an Asian country and had, literally, 4 towels, 4 forks, 4 spoons, 4 knives and pegs. She packed them carefully to send home because they were all that they had. On arriving back in the lucky country, she realised that she didn't need them because she had many towels, forks, spoons, knives and pegs, she couldn't believe that she had bothered with the pegs! Juian had been sorry that she hadn't explained that almost every towel, fork, spoon, knife, glass, book, chair, bowl, plate, chopping board............felt like that to her. It was more than her gypsy blood. It was also to do with the changes that came unexpectedly through her childhood when she wasn't ready for them. The empty promises and the discarded treasures that she had been shown.

She was trying to hold on to the wind, and losing.