The West End is a Sore Victim
We never go out in the West End, the tourists, z-celebrities and moneyed morons can keep it.

We never go out in the West End, the tourists, z-celebrities and moneyed morons can keep it.

Today marks a substantial step in the battle to get these ridiculous chariots of the ignorant out of our city. The people that drive them deserve to be put in the stocks and lambasted as the selfish and wreckless symbols of unfettered consumerism that they are.
Despite this video being based on the USA, it sums up some of my sentiments…
So that’s that; Beadle is no longer about. RIP you big, terrifyingly cheerful social outcast.

Something is awry here. Can you spot it? Select the text below for a clue…
Anyway, the above is making me a little sick.
We are led to believe that the World has changed so dramatically since the 19th Century, but I stubbled across a brief extract from a Victorian play, The Miser of Shoreditch (1854 written by Thomas Peckett Prest) which suggests that some things remain the same.
On Kingsland Road outside Catch, 1854
Tramp: Got any spare change for the Donner Kebab Fund?
Gent: *Sigh
Exciting news indeed. An article in the Guardian today about Alex James’ bizarro Cocaine Panorama programme went on to discuss something total more appropriate - Alex Turner’s solo album taking a more psychedelic rock angle.
Image courtesy of huskworks.com
At the moment, I feel like I’m watching a painfully telegraphed horror movie where the typecast dumb blonde, in her infinite wisdom, decides to go and investigate the noise coming from the treacherous and ghoulish looking basement instead of running out of the house.
I feel like screaming at the screen in a futile attempt to stop the inevitable. In said horror film it is the gruesome death of the cannon fodder cheerleader, in the real World right now it’s the even more gruesome looking recession that we’re running straight into.
So the environmentalist movement rolls on. Now the shopper’s friend - the plastic bag has been blown artistically by the wind into the eco-warriors’ sniper rifle target.
As a recent article in the Vancouver Sun highlights, they do look a little unsightly when they get stuck in trees. However, considering that plastic bags are surely one of the lesser contributors to global warming, I can’t help but think this is another example of picking off the low hanging environmentally-damaging fruit.
Not one for Jeremy Clarkson’s outfit.
It is now 2008 and we as a species are making huges advances in genetics, technology, trade and engineering (amongst other things). Yet why is it that I still have to handle the bizarre and awkward scenario of having to stand next to a stranger with my heavy artillery in hand and on display just so I can carry out one of nature’s simplest tasks?
Image courtesy of Wooster Collective
Another post this weekend but I just had to share this…
I asked someone over the weekend if they’d like to write for the site to which they responded “Would Shakespeare write a blog?”.
Now this had me a little confused. I immediately discounted the interpretation that this guy had just compared his literary ability to that of the great man. Even in the surreal and vain World of Shoreditch, this would be a new low/high.
So I assume he was philosophising outloud.
Life is short, apparently. I actually think it’s fairly long (f we take average life expectancy)…but hey who am I to argue?
I saw an article last week which was basically one of those life coach rants about “20 things to do to improve your life”. It was in some low-brow tabloid, so I can’t find it on the interwebs, because tabloids can’t use the intarnet. One of the “things to do” had particular resonance for me, it basically said stop wasting your time with people you don’t actually like, which whilst appearing quite obvious…got me thinking…