Was noch?

So, entry number 3, I guess. Tomorrow, I hope to see two or three movies: the remake of 'Funny Games', the original of which I loved, 'Up the Yangtze', and possibly 'It's a Free World' the latest Ken Loach. I don't care what Greenaway says, I love Loach, although I guess I've only seen two or three of his films. I also love Greenaway. I want to see Ken's latest, because the female protagonist looks like a compelling villain. Movies need more compelling villains of both genders. I am really sick of my mother's brand of 'Well, if she were a man, I'm not sure people would be nearly so critical' feminism, which she uses to dismiss criticism of everyone from Benazir Bhutto to Hillary Clinton. And it's always used when it comes to women and power, as if women using their power to oppress and exploit others cannot be denounced. At the same time, she has a point, but it's, you know, complicated. Everything is complicated.
Been trying to avoid a friend who, to quote Elaine from 'Seinfeld' "I don't even like", one of many, whose company I just can't take anymore. He moved back here about 7 months ago from Quebec City, and we have so little in common, except both being gay, and having lived in Ottawa. Anyway, he has embraced a naive form of environmental activism, and talks a lot about it, and I'm sorry, but composting is just not a topic of any interest to me, as admirable an activity as it may be. I mean, people make jokes about it being boring, about how Prince Charles was such a bore, always talking about composting and organic farming, and how lucky he is to have found Ms. Parker Bowles, who share those interests. Anyway, conversation between T and me is more 2 competing monologues than a true dialogue, as he has almost zero interest in culture. But, alas, I am a coward, and lack the courage to end the friendship. Anyway, a famous episode of 'Seinfeld' posed the question 'can one break up with a friend'? The consensus seems to be no, that one should phase things out, instead, but that seems like a cop-out to me. And I am so damned confrontation-averse and passive-aggressive, I find these things incredibly difficult. Anyway, I spend most of my time alone, partly by choice, but partly because I am sort of withdrawing from the world.
Enough about my anxieties. I recently returned from a week in London, stayed in Fitzrovia, about a block from the British Telecom tower, very near the area where the Ian McEwan novel 'Saturday', which I loved, was set. I'm kicking myself, because, although I knew it was set near where I was staying, I only found out on my return that McEwan lives in Fitzroy Square, which is literally a small block from the building in which we stayed, and it is widely believed that the protagonist Perowne lives in the square, which isn't named in the book. I think I walked past it, but can't be 100% certain. Ah, well. Anyway, visited a lot of 'hoods while there, all the usual suspects, of course: Trafalgar Square, Soho, Hyde Park, Regent's Park, Covent Garden, PicCadilly Circus, the British Museum, Tate Modern, National Gallery. But also saw Finsbury Park, Brixton, the East End (Brick Lane, Whitechapel, Shoreditch, Spitalfields, Fournier Street, Hoston Square and the White Cube Gallery), as well as the Serpentine Gallery, which had a great exhibition on Derek Jarman. Did a hell of a lot of walking, and went to 2 bathhouse: Chariots in Shoreditch, and the Pleasuredrome by Waterloo Station. Bathhouses interesting: like in Berlin and Paris, everyone rents a locker, rather than a room, but the rooms can be had once inside, mostly on a first-come, first-served basis. At Chariots, there were a lot of hot, superhung Brazilians and black dudes, but I noticed that when someone would emerge from the shower, hot tub, or sauna naked, he would often modestly put a hand in front of his cock. Very strange. Also, it took a while before things really took off. But had a couple of interesting experiences, including one with an older 60-something guy at Pleasuredrome who had mild osteoporosis, spoke with a vaguely Eastern European accent, and looked a bit like Patricia Highsmith in her later years crossed with Richard Nixon. Also sucked off an impossibly huge black cock in the darkroom at Chariots.The London saunas seemed a fair bit more expensive than in Canda, but much cleaner. God, I love the hedonism of faggotry, even if back home in Montreal, when I visit the tubs, my libido is for the most part in neutral. Stayed with my father and his galpal of 26 years in a very small space. Was worried about not being able to sleep with Dad's snoring, but it turned out the bedroom was somewhat separate from the main room of the flat, and with earplugs it was not an issue. Of course, got into a couple of fights with Dad, with whom I can barely communicate anymore, as he is deafer than ever, and refuses to ever wear a hearing aid, but not out of pride. Instead, in my opinion, Dad has never been particularly interested in anything his girlfriend J has to say, and with good reason, as the woman is a bit of an idiot, and he a bit of an intellectual, and so this deafness is a godsend for him, as it provides the perfect excuse to tune out and not be fully present. In fact, Dad is just one of these people who is more interested in things and ideas than people, so communication has never been his top priority, but his lack of hearing is uneven, to say the least, and depends greatly on what is being said. The whole situation is just pathetic. My father never wanted to be with a smart woman, so he's chosen this airhead doormat. It's not fair to either one of them, because J sort of represents everything he hates: she is materialistic, obsessed with her grandchildren, and not remotely concerned with current events or ideas. I remember watching the news with her, and anytime anything about the Palestinians, the Lebanese Civil War, or any other crisis was covered, J would look at the TV, shake her head, and say something like "Oh, oh, God, why, why?" and whimper and look defeated. But Dad treats her like shit, and she takes it. Amd she is a genuinely unselfish, giving woman, I guess.