Still ill. But with just sufficient energy for the most important Sunday rituals. Paper - check. Film - check. Roast chicken - check. That's enough for me.
The film is 'Senna'. I was going to see it at the cinema, but was put off by some reviews that claimed (erroneously) that it was a film purely for petrol-heads. It's not. Fascinating to see a person so utterly driven, single-minded and courageous about their purpose in life. And also very disturbing to watch someone lose their sense of certainty and flow. In this case, he knew that his car was simply not handling as it should. The tension rolls off him the day before his fatal crash. It's as if he knows what's coming.
The film ends with some interview footage where he's asked about his favourite racing memories. Without hesitation he talks about his early days in competition go-karting. No politics, no money. No Formula One, no spraying champagne, no logos. Just pure racing.
The best and purest things are done just for the love of it. Sometimes there are politics where there is no money. But where there is money, politics seem inevitable (definitely a Venn diagram opportunity). And the politics and the money put a stranglehold on the love. A weird dance.
Fortunately a roast chicken has no political or financial agenda. It's just about the love.
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