So apparently a viola player threw eggs at Simon Cowell last night.
I could write a blog post about how it’s nice to see a viola mentioned in the popular press. Largely underrated, the viola.
Or I could link this iconoclasm to a wider death of meaning and validity in popular entertainment. (Yes, The Voice, I’m looking at you.)
But right now I’d rather just sip my coffee, watch the replay again, and smile.
For tomorrow it won’t really matter. In fact it doesn’t really matter now. It doesn’t stop me smiling.