6.30am: The Police call around and get me to open the front door. They knock on my neighbour’s door and ring the doorbell a couple of dozen times. Looking out the back window, the entire block is surrounded by plain clothes policemen. My neighbour doesn’t answer. This probably means that their son has beaten his girlfriend to a bloody pulp again.
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The flip side of Venus
It became hard to maintain the ill-tempered, disabused mood when almost everybody was cheered up by watching the blip of the planet of love glide across the sun (BBC for all the links, along with Ars Technica ) on a glorious late spring morning.