No-one knows who's in charge of the country. Anarchy could happen at any moment (though it'd be a British form of anarchy, mostly based on tutting) and now Gordon Brown has resigned.
The BBC website features an unflattering freeze frame of a mid-speech Gordon, gob half open, looking sleepy. Hopefully, he can catch up on some zzzds now that the announcement has been made. Though from what I can gather, politicians aren't supposed to need much sleep. Which would suggest that the ideal PM would either be a teenager raver or a toddler.
Politics is everywhere at the moment, unsurprisingly enough. I went to the Irving Penn Portraits exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery this evening and had to endue a very loud man in bad knitwear outlining to his companion (and therefore everyone who was trying to enjoy Penn's dreamy b&w pics) exactly what he thought about proportional representation.
The exhibition featured a lot of interesting pictures (Alfred Hitchcock looking like a huge baby in a suit, Marlene Dietrich looking gorgeous, Audrey Hepburn's impish smile), but the one that caught my attention most was of the wrestler Maurice Tillet, whose stage name was The French Angel.
Maurice was both a poet and a chess enthusiast. Non-wiki accounts of his life suggest that he spent several years studying law, several more in the French navy before becoming one of the first Wrestling superstars. His image got to be a work of art twice over, with the Penn picture (not available online, sadly) and Louis Linck's sculpture, pictured here.
Interesting fella. The Penn portrait makes him look defiant. Like he'd be capable of telling the jumper man to 'button it'. I'm not sure what the French for 'button it' is, but it would probably sound pretty effective coming from Morris.
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