Communism, the fashion Capitalism of London

Fashion for the confused

Glorious sunshine graced with a gentle breeze gave rise to a cycle ride in England's capital city. Your humble narrator/cyclist reclines post-bath to give pen-permanence to bathing reflections on the sites and sights that decorated the day's journey.

The parks Hyde and Regent's as well as Primrose Hill and Clapham Common were people magnets host to simultaneous games of 'see and be seen' and 'aren't I a smart tourist'. A unique colour was generated by the mixture of green grass, pink faces and pastel fashions seen from a distance. It will be labelled 'Park People - colour ref. 603' when it is later sold by the tube as an oil paint.

On closer inspection it was apparent that approximately one in five males (or thereabouts, within a couple of decimal places) were clothed in an identical manner; as follows:

1. Birkenstock sandals or flip flops
2. Army-style cargo shorts - knee-length or just below (I'm almost certain the army don't wear shorts)
3. Short-sleeved polo shirt. Two out of three cats preferring a horizontal stripes design over a solid pastel shade of pink, green, yellow or blue (in order of popularity) and five percent opting for a combination of the two
4. Oversized sunglasses

Here follows the thought:

Given the free will and choice offered by the tremendous mechanism of free market Capitalism, why were so many man-pounds being spent on what could perhaps best be described as an identical summer uniform? The open spaces of London resemble an utopian Communist summer camp populated by an army of programmed consumers (plenty of room for large wallets thanks to those map pockets). I make no comment on the theory or practise of Communism, I ponder instead the Capitalist freedom whereby individual slaves are awarded the privilege of choosing which design of polo shirt best goes with their baggy army shorts and clever corky sandals. The question is: where can I get me some?

Answers on a postcard to the usual address.

Massive Attack at Brixton Academy, February 2007

Was it a gig?

Massive Attack hold a special place in my memories and in some ways hold my memory in place. A soundtrack transports me back in time like nothing else. Blue Lines for me is the early days of a love affair (not only the world's greatest lovemaking album, but also the reason stereos were invented). Jump forward in time and Mezzanine saw MA selling out to the highest bidder in a frenzy of advertising. My love affair had ended had been rekindled and then finished again and was then in the throes of ugly sex with the ex. Dark times with a great soundtrack.

We bopped down to the Brixton Academy on Thursday 8th Feb 2007 to see the show.

What's happened to the future? It's too safe and too lame. Pseudo politics and thirty somethings. Smoking music and no smoking. Some clapping in between tunes gave the impression that the audience wasn't completely dead but were they enjoying it? Anybody's guess. Perhaps they were getting stoned and just not passing joints in my direction.

For what it's worth I enjoyed chatting with a good friend and later gave in to a shamanic dance. All in all I could have done this in my bedroom with the stereo turned up a bit louder than usual. In conclusion I had a good time but that was more down to me than anyone else. Call me old fashioned but I expect entertainment to be entertaining.

Old memories were triggered but the gig is all but forgotten.

The future is passive not massive.

feeling frisky

Well, here comes spring and everyone's feeling horny. At least I hope they are. Time to get things done, including writing a blog to vent my spleen and keep my head clean. The floodgates have been opened and there's an ocean ready to stream forth...