Thursday, December 4, 2008

I SAID, PEDESTRIANS HAVE PRIORITY

I SAID, PEDESTRIANS HAVE PRIORITY
So start being a bit more bloody considerate, you towpath-hogging, danger-making, irritation-causing, bell-ding-enrudening, selfish cyclist fucks.

Yes, I know I ride my bike all over the shop; yes, I know I have been less than 100% considerate on various occasions in my life, but: it's pretty clear to anyone with even half a brain that hoofing a bike along a narrow path next to a cold pile of dirty water with lots of people walking on it is NOT a safe or good idea for those people, particularly under bridges, you daft, impatient bastards, so I just don't take my bike on the towpath, even though it would be quicker and safer for me if I didn't have to ride next to trucks and buses.

The thing is, I'm really not an especially non-selfish person; it just seems bleeding obvious - so what's with you lot? Are you different in some way? Do normal common sense, courtesy and decency not apply to you? Do you have a special dispensation from Boris Johnson to piss me off every day? Has he sunk to the level of trying to annoy individual London-dwellers one by one, by proxy? Well, I hope you all fall in. Maybe you'll all get Weil's disease and select yourselves out.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Déesse

Déesse
“The D.S. - the ‘Goddess’ - has all the features (or at least the public is unanimous in attributing them to it at first sight) of one of those objects from another universe which have supplied fuel for the neomania of the eighteenth century and that of our own science-fiction: the Deesse is first and foremost a new Nautilus […] There are in the D.S. the beginnings of a new phenomenology of assembling, as if one progressed from a world where elements are welded to a world where they are juxtaposed and hold together by sole virtue of their wondrous shape, which of course is meant to prepare one for the idea of a more benign Nature.”

From “Citroën D.S.”, an essay in Roland Barthes’ 1957 collection Mythologies.

Sunday, May 6, 2007

Wait.

Wait.
What a dejected, disconsolate train-waiter. Note well the rounded hunch of the shoulder, the crestfallen tilt of the head; the ennui, the loneliness. The intolerable »tick, tock« of the oversized clock, ramming home the inescapable passage of time, a constant, ever-present reminder of the fleeting nature of human endeavour, wrapped up in meaninglessly snazzy luggage or not. Haha, well, never mind, eh?

You'd never have got signage like this in the Soviet Union. That's for sure.

Monday, March 28, 2005

Operation

Operation
Outside the Royal London Hospital, Whitechapel Road, London