Friday night is film night !

My old man.

My Father, or as I called him most of my life, ‘the old man’ was far from perfect. One thing he was not, was a racist. I remember as a small child his stories about India. He lived there for a while during part of World War Two. He was a Royal Marine. He told me stories such as parents breaking a child’s legs, this sounded horribly cruel, but as a crippled person they could survive as a beggar. He told me how people would take their dead to a railway station at night, so in the morning they would be taken away and buried, because the relatives could not afford to bury their loved one. He told me how people so poor, it was beyond most peoples imagination, would offer to share their food with him. As a kid this all went very deep. For me, racism is the cancer of the soul.

So my diabetic friends, be very thankful. Although we have a chronic disease, which means there is no cure, we are very fortunate, most of us don’t know the meaning of suffering and hardship.

This is a film which blew my brains out as a teenager and for me a masterpiece. If you don’t know the film check this out. A very rich white man has been murdered. The stranger in town is a Blackman. The obvious suspect, or is he ?


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