Return of the Molomancer?

Pfah. It's been years since Sauron the malignant melanoma emerged on my arm, and was eventually biopsed into oblivion, after initial misdiagnosis from our hapless and hopeless GP back in Manchester, years ago. Now it looks as though another of the little swelters is beginning to fidget. This one sits on the back of my right hand. It's always been quite dark, but larians tells me it seems bigger. It looks just the same to me; for sure if I touch it it feels slightly more raised than I recall, and the edges are more notched than they were...or it could be my imagination. That's the thing about moles, the more you look, the more you're bound to find something to look at. I am not at all worried about it - it just doesn't feel like a problem. I'll go to the doctor, just to stop mi hombre fretting at me.

Speaking of larians, we hung out in Blackheath last night, during which time we drank Aspalls cider, which is dreadful stuff. Of course, we had to test it thoroughly to be sure. Scientific method and all that. Four pints later, my conclusion is that it's packaged gut rot.

Monsters

Finished watching the second season finale of Hannibal tonight. Monsters as art; slow and exquisite for those who like floating through the dreamtime in crystals and rain. I don't get bad dreams/flashbacks watching it any more than I get high off sixties wallpaper. Real monsters are not interesting. That's the thing about evil; it's perfectly capable of being banal. I think the Devil's greatest success was to be a boring bastard and still conquer.

Looking at comments about Gaza, the extraordinary blankness of monsters. I have always wanted to go to Canaan; to walk with my friend Inbaal among the fig trees on the hills, that fresh scent that is just so freeing, always wanted to work in a kibbutz, to see the ancient world of Israel, the land, the culture... Og of Bashen...who was Og of Bashen? Some giant or something. I wanted to find them all, the rephraim and the watchers and the stories. In 2018 my mum and dad's bible will be 60 years old.

It makes me sad to think I will never see the land of Solomon's songs, because the whole thing appears to have been taken over by a plague of rage zombies. There was that strange woman lampooned by Russell Brand (http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2014/06/26/russell-brand-calls-fox-news-a-fanatical-terrorist-propagandist-organisation_n_5533502.html) as she squealed 'Bomb them! Bomb them!' over and over again, there was Ayelet Shaked, the Israeli politician on FB who called Palestinian children 'little snakes,' now trying to rescind that obscenity as the world stares agog at the mess of blood and sorrow that is Gaza. Meanwhile some skinhead equivalents were filmed chanting joyfully that there were no schools in Gaza because there are no children left in Gaza; Gaza is a cemetery. Across the web the crazies are out, but this at least is business as usual. Doesn't matter which side they claim to be on, they are united in their unthinking readiness to accept massacre as some kind of necessity, only rendered evil when it's done to their own.

And then there is humanity at its most true: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iFd8jVrbf0A

Without this, it's all monsters.