I'm not sure how many more of these web-telegrams you'll be receiving from me this week. I'm popping of in an hour's time to attend the University and College Union annual conference, which lasts until SUNDAY? What we'll find to talk about, I don't know. It's been such a dull year in the world of education.
Still, I'm ready. I've opted for summer-weight lovat tweed with correspondent shoes for the day-time - with two choices of cravat - and of course full evening dress for the nocturnal festivities. Armed with a trusty silk umbrella, I'm ready for everything Manchester and the SWP can throw at me.
Glancing through the programme, I can see that we'll have an awfully jolly time reconciling composite motions, but in the rare moments away from the nitty-gritty, I intend to vote for Palestinian freedom, Cuban solidarity, the end of tuition fees, the abolition of misogyny and world peace. And if that doesn't do the trick, I don't know what will!
Actually, despite my teasing - born of many years attending NUS conference - I'm looking forward to it. We've been battered and abused for two years by this government, and it doesn't look like stopping. Students are being exploited, the job's getting harder and we need to follow the Quebec model (now the largest protest in Canadian history) and resist. However, I do dread the tedious sectarian bickering of the various groupuscules who think wresting control of a motion will lead to revolution by Saturday…
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