Since every other mo’-fo’ in the universe has managed to con someone into publishing their list of the best/worst films/songs/artists/Pret-sandwich-fillings of the week/year/decade recently, I thought it only fair that ten minutes hate gave it a go. Except I’m not going to do anything that scientific. Instead here is a completely arbitrary and slightly esoteric list [...]
Posts Tagged as ‘Hackney’
Tuesday 6 October 2009
Whaaat? Issue #3
Oh yes, just back from the printers and ready for you to peruse. A mere £1.50 of cold, hard cash and in return you get your hands on Issue 3 of the world’s best fanzine, Whaaat? Featuring finally crafted graphics and articles from writers including me and this bloke over here, it’s like a night [...]
Friday 24 July 2009
You’re gonna need a bigger boat
There are days when I feel I should have the words “epic fail” branded onto my forehead because I have never been anywhere that wasn’t Europe or North America, never travelled anywhere where I didn’t speak the language or knew enough words to get by or wasn’t with people who were fluent. There are other [...]
Thursday 2 July 2009
Rampant anti-hipsterism
I have been having a lot of fun in recent weeks taking the mickey out of the hipper inhabitants of my neighbourhood. Ripping them for their lack of irony, helping a friend to surreptitiously take pictures of overly sincere straw boater-wearing, which may end up on here soon. And I am not the only one. [...]
Saturday 27 June 2009
Normal service resumed
In a bar last night, the DJ played Pulp’s Common People and the crowd, a drunken mass of former St Martins sculpture graduates, sang along without a shred of self-awareness to cause them disquiet. I felt like pointing out that he was singing at them, not for them, that if you called your Dad he [...]
Saturday 23 May 2009
Confusion
They met on a crowded dance floor, swapped greetings, pretend-clinked their plastic pints. “What are you doing here?” “Oh, I heard someone was playing. Name of Dando?” “Yeah, it’s Evan Dando!” “I know.” He laughed. “It was a joke.” She walked off.
Friday 22 May 2009
The eternal catwalk of life
The girls cross at the lights, weaving in and out of the cars diagonally over the road. Their heels are vertiginous, six inches at least; they walk as if en pointe. Mostly they stride, as if born to walk on tiptoes, but there is one, tripping along after her friends, who already looks sunk. It [...]
Sunday 26 April 2009
The way to work
On the way to work I see two people sitting in the park, looking into each other’s eyes. A tender moment, I think, aaah. Then as the bus moves on, I notice a can of Special Brew in her hand, one arm resting behind his back along the bench. I wonder what we must look [...]
Thursday 2 April 2009
Riot of my own
There were riots in Northern Ireland earlier this month. As the news showed pictures of balaclava-wearing youths with petrol bombs in their hands, I thought ‘how old fashioned’ – as if this kind of thing had died out a long time ago. You knew that our rulers thought they would never see the like again: [...]
