The whole house is a mess. You live with mess and you get used to it, but coming back to it after a break, the full ghastliness hits you in the face. The dust, the grit, the piles of stuff!. And there's not much I can do about it. Not while Karl is still stripping walls and sanding woodwork.
Look at Tony, look at Gordon! Watch them fight! I don't feel entirely good about it, but I feel Biblical about Blair. I want him to go down in shame and ignominy with the sun in eclipe and liquid fire raining down on Whitehall. In an ideal world I'd like him to be put on trial for war crimes, but that's never going to happen, is it?