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About me

I live and work around Shoreditch, London. My obsession with making Internet stuff leads me to spend my days heading up the tech side at POKE. What you’re looking at is entirely my doing, though, and as you’ve probably guessed, in no way reflects POKE’s views on anything, at all, ever.

In addition to providing me with a soapbox, this site tracks what I’m up to online using feeds from Flickr, del.icio.us and others.

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Regular reads

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Human bites man

Human bites man
We wonder how this might have come about. Of course the reason might easily have been as simple as that the TV star was hungry, angry with the homeless man (damn those homeless men), or merely criminally insane; one can’t help but wonder, however, whether there might not have been a deeper and altogether more fascinating scenario at the root of this regrettable occurrence (assuming, of course, that it was regretted and not vaunted). Perhaps the TV star had also become homeless and stumbled into a biting episode arising from a territorial dispute over begging rights with another member of the homeless fraternity (or indeed sorority)? Or maybe, just maybe, there exists a secret society whose members are all TV stars happily paying to attend staged fights between homeless men in (temperature-controlled) empty swimming pools in the basements of Barratt mansions secreted deep in Epping forest? Perhaps the TV star was so incensed at the loss of one such fight by the homeless man he or she had sponsored with a significant display of fiscal confidence that the bite was simply one of frustration? Or maybe - just maybe - the TV star, once a keen participant in such light-hearted leisure activities, might have fallen from grace, losing a coveted spot on “Celebrity Bastard Squad” following a mysterious incident with a turkey and a Cumbrian rapist, collapsing via a glut of explosively lurid coverage ultimately into a desolate morass of anonymous obscurity, eventually ending up, in a staggering and of course entirely unexpected dénouement, fighting for coins in the cellar of his replacement’s crypto-Wimpey pile?

We may never know.

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