I watched the march along Princes Street this morning: 20,000 people turned up. I stood next to two beautiful, but very bored, police horses and watched the protestors file past in a line stretching out beyond the horizon. It felt like 1983, except it wasn't in black and white, and there were iPhones and vuvuzelas.

I couldn't join in because I had to rush off to an audition, but I'm starting to think I should get some practice in while everything's still peaceful. I'd hate for my first rally to be the one when they start throwing bricks around.

A while back, I wrote If I woke up tomorrow morning in a terrifying neo-Thatcherpunk dystopia, then so be it: start stockpiling guns then. Is it time yet?