Poor Man About Town

I was passing through Lavender Hill, Battersea SW11 on the bus today. I was amazed by the number of estate agents alive and kicking in the area. Every other shop was an estate agent, there was even a cluster of three different estate agents next to each other. This was unreal, this was mad. Has the local economy become so dependent on the buying and selling of its houses.

Is this the South Sea Bubble revisited. When this fucking blows, it will be an economic tsunami. Already the cracks are starting to appear. City gents are already starting to throw themselves out of buildings.

I was passing through Lavender Hill, Battersea SW11 on the bus today. I was amazed by the number of estate agents alive and kicking in the area. Every other shop was an estate agent, there was even a cluster of three different estate agents next to each other. This was unreal, this was mad. Has the local economy become so dependent on the buying and selling of its houses.

Is this the South Sea Bubble revisited. When this fucking blows, it will be an economic tsunami. Already the cracks are starting to appear. City gents are already starting to throw themselves out of buildings.

Labels: Economics, Estate Agents, Greedy Property Developers

I was reading in Private Eye No. 1185 about the New Labour Deputy Leader Candidacy - it seems that there are number of private concerns bankrolling their campaigns. Here is the list quoted from said issue of Private Eye

Peter Hain gets £5000 from Terry Johnsey "millionaire property developer"

Alan Johnson gets £2500 from DMQA Holdings and another £2500 from another property developer, The Wykeland Group.

Hilary Benn got £10000 from REITS Asset Management.

Nest we have the Property Developers' Social Security Cheque Real Estate Investment Trusts.

So now you know

Labels: Alan Johnson, Greedy Property Developers, Hilary Benn, New Labour, Peter hain

Don't you just love Channel 4! It produces mucho trash - Big Brother, Wife Swap, Property Programmes, Celebrity Human Chimps...

Now it has embarked on Car Crash TV, not with drunk drivers, joy riders or can't be arsed drivers on the motorway. Oh no, they want to show car crash tv with style and panache. It is going to show the demise of Princess Diana.

It has become oh so serious in defending the broadcast - it wants to debunk the conspiracy theories around her death by showing graphic but censored (of her face) images. How the fuck it is going to debunk conspiracy theories by showing graphic censored imagery?

Channel 4 has made us racially aware by Big Brother and has assisted and helped people with gambling on its tv quiz shows. It's done a fantastic public by delivering some fantastic and ground-breaking television. I am sure once the ground has been broken we may look forward to photos Jim Morrison (of The Doors) lying dead in his Paris Hotel bath; Hendrix in a pool of his own vomit and Marilyn Monroe lying dead on her bed.

Channel 4 knows it market - those people who cause hold-ups on a motorway who want to look at the road pizzas in the adjacent carriageway.

Labels: Channel 4, Television

I see that the rampage of Property Developers is happening up and down the country. Now they plan to rob pensioners of their bowling green in Hales, Norfolk by wanting to build a stunning new development of bungalows on the site. Is there no stopping the greedy wretches. The bowl players, however, have come up with a cunning plan.

Labels: capitalism, property developers;, Property Development

I listened to Radio 4's Any Questions today. Some of the items under discussion were most notable, in particular, Michael Meacher's analysis of how the Left has deserted the Labour Party because of blatant Tory Policies. He pointed out that because there is no Left in the Labour Party we will continue to get the same old shit.

Another notable aspect of the programme was twelve year old Sayeeda Warsi, Vice Chair of the Tories, she was notable for arriving late. She was also notable for her screeching, squawking and constant interruptions. Michael Meacher was attempting explain a few points and he was met with her constant hectoring and screaming, she did not need a megaphone, her loud mouth clearly fulfilled this function. Yep, this is what really belies the cuddly Tory image.

Labels: Any Questions, BBC, Conservative, New Labour, Radio 4

Some commentaries remain timeless and classic. I was flipping some old notes which I have made from books which I have read. There were several quotes from John Braine's Room at the Top which appealed to me.

This could easily be applied to Blairism and the Primrose Hill Gang a la Miliband and James Purnell and Andy Burnham, likewise David Cameron and George (aka Gideon) Osborne of the Tories - the new of Designer Politicians.

"Whatever the suggestions were, Heylake would listen to them. He was a great improvement on the efficient zombie. Even now, I don't like to remember the efficient zombie. He had a large head with short-oiled hair and an absolutely immobile face. It was not even dignified or stony, it was dead, he seemed to take out the oxygen out of the air around him"

Check this out on charm - can easily be applied to politicians re: the above.

"The possession of charm wasn't in itself a guarentee of success but it seems to follow our bits like a pilot fish"

Labels: Blair, British Politics, David Cameron, literature, New Labour, Tories

There have been posts when I have derided how trashy television has become, then we have Jonathan Meades with a new series of Jonathan Meades abroad. My faith in good broadcast television , for that matter BBC2, is slightly restored. Meades' television is extraordinary - factual, entertaining, ascerbic, quirky - he writes with a highly loaded pen - his targets are those everyday things that you love to hate, but have never had thought processes to articulate your scorn. His targets tonight were those buildings and environments that are being subject to regeneration. The advent of this, he points out, came with the arrival of Tony Blair and "Social Thatcherism"

In one scene, he goes into a luxury apartment and describes that such apartment blocks are "Housing Market renewal pathfinders" and that they provide "A lifestyle solution". The modern luxury apartment "...is a product of design culture; it draws bar culture, restaurant culture, retail culture, gallery culture, museum culture, culture culture" This voiceover is made over a scene where he goes around the luxury apartment feigning horror at all the design trinkets and tut which litter the flat. It's not just design culture, it's M & S design culture.

Labels: Architecture, BBC, culture, Design, Lifestyle, Property Development, Regeneration, Television

I was on the A40 Westway yesterday, there was this huge vibration under my car, I thought there was something wrong with the engine - then I look beside me and saw this fucking grey Ferrari switching on to turbo and zooming the two hundred yards towards the car in front. I thought "Fuck there goes two hundred thousand nicker in engine and bodywork" - the bugger behind the wheel, managed to brake on time. Ferraris are lovely car, I wish I could own one. In the city, however, you have to treat them with a great deal of respect and this arsehole behind its wheel clearly wanted to redesign the most precious vehicle. The bugger was clearly showing off - he was narcissistic as if to say "all you sad gits in your Vauxhall Chevettes, look at the size of my dick! Vroooooom!" You really do not need to advertise the fact that you own a Ferarri, just driving one is enough.

Labels: cars, Lifestyle, narcissism

I was reading this article in The Times about the Tate Modern. I never liked Tate Modern, I could not put my finger on why. Then I saw this photo in The Times - it had New Model Parents wearing sunflower head-dresses along with their sprogs - they were playing an enlarged board game. I guess it was designed to help their sprogs learn about art. There is this ironic notion that we are culturally starved and therefore we should turn art into a form of junk-food in order to stave off our hunger for it - dumbing down. Children and families have been starved of modern art and therefore Tate Modern has been turned into a Theme Park for Modern Art. This is no great shakes but when you consider a programme like Robert Hughes' Shock of the New that was dedicated to many of the genres on display at Tate Modern, you think that this literal toying around with the said exhibits loses their shock value - they become not so much tame but resigned like circus animals - packaged as flat-pack art, mugs, t-shirts etc.

There was a time when you could go to places for grown-ups, you found only grown-ups and you felt at home, away from the Hell that is Bratdom and its consequent consort of parentdom; there is an insistence in this country to turn every single place and adult sanctuary over to the tyranny of Family Friendly and you know what that means - intolerable brats with their intolerable parents. Cheese Pleeze.

Labels: art, art market, cheesy, dumbing down, family friendly, Lifestyle, museums, Parents

The BBC was rather toady today - they had that dreadful celebrity cum news presenter Huw Edwards presenting Blair's resignation speech. I noted that Blair did not give his speech outside Downing Street but in his constituency Labour Club and given the rapturous greetings, rapturous applause - the placards declaring their love for Tony and Cherie - I had the feeling that the speech was delivered in front of a specially invited and staged audience.

The outgoing Prime Minister reviewed his tenure - declared all the successes - improvements in health and education along with reductions in crime. This has not really been the case, but I guess that the man wants to give himself some credit. Iraq - he said was a part of the ongoing war against terrorism. Until US / UK invasion of Iraq there was no terrorism in Iraq - but I guess that has become a rod that Blair and Bush have made for all our backs - they don't have to worry - they will not have to be around for much longer to clear up the mess.

There were a number of things that Blair precluded from his speech - why did he not mention the outstanding success of the Public Finance Initiative and why did he not mention the success of the property market making housing affordable for everyone.

Labels: Blair, PFI, privatisation, Property Developers, resignation speech

I was on a bus journey through London's West End a few days ago. This woman sat opposite me on the back seats, she was babbling into a mobile. Middle class accent, well heeled; she should have been driving around in a Porsche rather than having to cope with the indignity of travelling on a smelly London bus*. I guess she must have been disqualified from driving hence her reduced circumstances in transportation. The babble was the usual public exposure of private life, names of friends, what they did last friday; with whom she intends to have to suppernext Saturday; Jocelyn getting quite legless on Sunday night and attempting to paw at her...Then came the discussion about when she should meet up with the person with whom she was speaking "No, can't do next Saturday, attending a wedding...can't do that either...no, no...no...fully booked in June; as for July, I am going on my hols. August, now let's see..." This was getting excruciatingly tedious and I felt like saying to her "Why the fuck don't you tell that person that you can't meet up until 2035 but that you can still keep in contact on the mobile". This woman's life was so fully booked that it caused me to wonder whether she had any life at all. This phone call was intrusive, it ruined my concentration for the book that I was reading. Maybe I was too polite by not saying anything. Maybe the etiquette is such that we have allowed people to babble on ad-nauseum into mobile phones - the die has been cast in that regard. Can anyone suggest from where I can get a mobile phone zapper?

Labels: Lifestyle, Manners, mobile phones

I had to attend an out-patient appointment today. There were quite a few magazines lying around. The choice was varied - Sunday supplements, lifestyle mags, true stories and celebrity mags. What struck me was the class divide between the mags. The lifestyle and supplement mags were clearly geared towards the middle-class nest builders - all of which insisted on force feeding crap and more crap to the already bloated middle stratum of society. The photos looked very cosy, nice clean photographs of nice clean and healthy people (the ethnicity of which is invariably white) - the couples look happy and look as if they are about to go on holiday to Barbados. Then you have the products, face creams made from the mud of the Borneo jungle, the bollocks of rare goats steeped in olive oil and balsamic vinegar, furniture made from one of the last surviving rain forests in South America...

Then we come to the magazines aimed at the working class - the true stories - grainy and out of focus home produced photos - the highly graphic stories were invariably tragic - wife beaters nearly beating women to death with pokers and pick axe handles; wives poisoning their husband; children being physically and sexually abused - these mags were selling stories of the front line of working class tragedy. None of the middle class angst that one finds in middle-class childless couples. These true-life stories made rather painful reading. Has the working class really become this pit of depravity!

Then we have the Celebrity Mags, obviously directed towards the working class - celebs in expensive homes - it is as if they are not making any suggestion of aspiration, more like to say "look at what we have got, you pathetic plebs"

Whoever says that we live in a classless society needs to have his / her head testing.

Labels: Class, Lifestyle, media

Four brats on the train, two of whom were the parents. The two younger brats yell, they sound like starving seagulls. Their twelve year old parents, with middle class accents, refer to themselves in the third party "Mummy does not like it" says Mummy "Mummy will get you to sit next to daddy". "Daddy wants you to be quiet" says Daddy. Rather than being parents, the couple sound as if they are playing Mummies and Daddies. Their sprogs yell and yelp, it seems that they have their parents under firm control by inducing to respond to them in such a childlike manner. What is even more hilarious is that Daddy gets out his mobile phone, phones his Mummy and babbles inanities to her.

Labels: Lifestyle, middle class, Parenting, Parents

You may not want a second helping of Beer Can Man, but this is my blog and I shall do what I like with it. I really have to give vent to the things which vex me - I find this process palliatively therapeutic.

Beer Can Man, if you are not familiar, is a part of an urban tribe that makes public displays of it boozing. Beer Can Men usually hang around in groups in parkland and on street corners. Although such groups may appear intimidating, I have never really been harrassed by them. I cannot afford to live in Switzerland nor Bromley where such public displays of human dysfunction are not tolerated. Beer Can Men, however, do make the place look untidy - they are like misplaced litter - I am caused to wonder why they cannot drink at home, where they can listen to sounds or watch the telly. Trust me, many of these people have homes to which they can go.

Live and let live is my motto - they are part of the rich canvas that is the city. OK cool.

Most beer can men will take care of their personal hygiene, but there are some who stink out the place. I was in the newsagents the other day and there were two of them, both of them had the unmistakable of Pissoir pour l'homme. They looked dirty and crusty, they were pissed.

I was in the supermarket today, a Beer Can Man, aged around 40, approached a friend whom he had not seen in ages. Although this Beer Can Man was around two and a half metres away, there was a strong smell of Pissoir pour l'homme. Now the thing that perplexed me the most was that he was with a woman ten years his junior, she looked quite clean. I wondered why she was hanging with this smelly individual, then it occurred to me; it's not so much that love but alcohol conquers all - this couple was rejuvenating its supplies.

Labels: alcoholism, Bromley, drunks, dysfunction, piss, pissed, stink, Switzerland

I love Steve Bell - he carried me through the dark years of Thatcherism, I've bought many of his cartoon collections from those years.

Here we have a superb summary from Steve of the Blair years.



Dp you think Blair will make a quiet departure?

Labels: Blair, British Politics, Cartoons, Steve Bell

I see that the rather delicious Tessa Jowell, Minister for Fun Fairs, Amusement Arcades, Slot Machines, Lap Dancing Clubs, Trashy Television, Shove Ha'penny, Beetle Drives, Tombolas, Face Painting and Whizz-Bang, is calling for a voluntary code of conduct for bloggers.

She starts her screed by stating

"The internet is a vigorous and now invaluable part of the public realm, or what I prefer to call "ourspace""

ourspaceSounds like a fairly loaded neologism generated by one of her spin doctors. I think it means that if one were to write things that are critical of the Government, one is abusing the privaleges of ourspace.

Can we really take this Minister for things Other Than Culture seriously?

Labels: blogging, politics, tessa jowell