Monday, 15 July 2013


Here's some art being painted by ROA, who remains my favourite street artist:

If you want a small moment of amusement go to the Vogue magazine website at then using the arrow keys press up up, down down, left, right, left, right, b, a. Keep your eyes at the bottom of the screen.
There is no news from Magaluf which I regard as a good thing. They may be up to some terrible things, but at least (so far) nothing has gone hideously wrong.
We can't help but read the reviews of the things we've been to see at the theatre/ may be a sign of insecurity I guess. We read one review of Despicable Me2 which had the story so wrong that we concluded the reviewer hadn't actually see the film; we read a review of Kenneth Branagh's MacBeth that a) told the story b) quoted some of the lines as if this was the first time they'd ever been spoken...really if this is what being a critic is all about, I've missed my vocation. I was highly amused to read that after JK Rowling was revealed as the author of a detective novel, sales of the thing have rocketed. Robert Galbraith, as she calls herself, had penned a fine book called The Cuckoo's Calling which had garnered praises from many critics, but sold just 1500 copies. What I wonder suddenly makes it so much better now that JK is known to have written it? Of course I do know...people are like sheep and find comfort in familiarity...I working in the 'brand' industry so understand the value of a brand...this is a great case study. But really, really, really...either a book is something you want to really doesn't get better just because you know who the author is. In my case, I don't like detective stories usually so I'll be saving my pennies.
I love where we live...Epping Forest is a beautiful place.
But, but, but... I struggle with the people who live in our neck of the woods, and the town of Loughton itself. It is a cultural desert. If you walk down the high street, the culinary highlight is a Kentucky Fried Chicken, most of the shops are dull and uninteresting and the place simply has no heart. Is this really the state of small towns across the country? I hope's desperate. The houses in general are also dull and uninspiring - mostly mid-war, many post war with a sad conformity. Even the people who have money (and there are many) choose to create hideous nouveau-riche mansions of which the main feature will be a couple of romanesque pillars either side of the front door, and an electronically operated gate to the paved 'front garden'. The need to show off your wealth means that even the smallest terraced house will have a Porsche or Range Rover parked outside. The people too are a challenge...I notice this mostly when I've spent a few hours in Brighton. They are brash, aggressive and inelegant in their perma-tans and buttock-clenching short shorts or bright scarlet velour jumpsuits.
Friday night was the highlight of the local social calendar - the local sports club Ball. The sight of so many middle-aged and beyond women with their bleached blond hair, even more orange faces and rolls of fat pouring out of dresses that were at least two sizes too small for them and acres of blingy jewellery was hideous. Not that the men were any least it's difficult to go wrong with a Dinner Suit, even if some of the shirts would look better as curtains in the Sound of Music. Obviously 'present company excluded'.
Anyway, I'll no doubt get lynched when I head home tonight.