Monday 12 December 2011

Newest post: still really rubbish : An Ode To Orwell Down and Out in London 2011

Sub-Title - Living in The Cameroon.


This is going to be a summary.  Of life living on the bread-line (The non-granary type without surplus seeds)
Simple, good, wholemeal, nearly harking back to a simpler time of agricultural whimsy.   To be 'pro-white' might be cache as a bit strong on the far-right nowadays, so I refer to the guardian ideal of 'Whole-Meal' that mysterious mix of ethnic wheat groups.

Seedy.



 - - -  - - - - An aside - there are pigeons - birds - who eat better bread than I do in London.  I have opened up a lunch treat to the ridicule of a pack of pigeons before.  I imagine that 'Pesto' is currently topping the pigeon sons' name charts for 2011.   Anyway, pure flights of fancy. - - - -

It's going to be boring.

As euphemisms go- 'seedy' actually infers a quite posh sub-genre of a loaf nowadays...although 'wholemeal' again has insinuations that are far too ambitious for any type of bread/sandwich- having not counted as a 'whole-meal' since the war.  Nevertheless, Heaven thanks we can allude to that rather than a baguette baring in mind the latest Euro-chat.

Back to the Guide' :

1. Being poor in London.

A-Walking.  (ie. Not taking a bus or a tube.  Or a taxi, obviously.  I think it's fair to say you're allowed 1 runner from a black cab in your life.  The vomit-smelling whiff running-through your hair as you run to a distant alleyway to meet that man of your dreams...might conjure up a nineties MTV video in your head, but alas YOU are a metropolitan policeman's dream)
(I add, that I have actually taken a black cab from Nottingham to Dorset, but that was before I was poor, so doesn't count. )

So POOR walk.  Frequently.  Belonging to realm of logic where a walk from Richmond to the East-End seems feasible as long as you have your stoicism.  The shirpas of the mighty Himalayas are him-a-lay-abouts who quite pale in comparison. 

Scott Fitz


B-Nouveau-Socialism.
Seriously contemplating a periodic time in a tent at that Butlins-on-St-Pauls for a while.  It might be more feasible than joining the priesthood (who interestingly have free board in central london) and it's just great for transport links.   After all, you know a few 'anarchists/socialists/squatters' and they are not so bad at all. If a bit deluded and annoying.  The anarchists smell a bit more than the socialists, who hold serious 'high-ideals' - in that they would use soap as opposed to the anarchists who wouldn't.  And the squatters have no showers, and just turn up at various parties, or places hitherto unpolitical upon their 'soap-boxes'.  These are very metaphorical soap-boxes.  Empty soap-boxes.

C-Job Centres :  (Now a POTENTIALLY trendy market stall area??? )
Ahh, they say that Kwik-Save was closed down years ago, though I would disagree, there are plenty of cheap money supermarkets, the same depressing interiors, disaffected staff, empty shelves and cut-price bargains on offer today all over town.  The amateur dramatic society meetings fortnightly;
'Yes, I have been looking for jobs.'
'Let me see your written evidence of these job-searches/lurches'
'Here you go.'
'Thank-you and goodbye'

It is atmospheric to say the least.  JUST-BAD-LIGHTING.
But probably not a great idea to sign on in Hoxton, where every other person you see is dressed as an art student.  Similar to being in a queue at HnM oxford street. Horrible.  And the staff on abysmal salaries have seen so many likewise they must be a bit peeved. (by like-wise, I do not intend to confuse with actual wise as the three wise men might be).

D-Clothing.
Ahhh, vintage chic.  Yes, that old parsnip.
Always somewhat obscure.  There is a time and a place for it surely.  The time is, near past orders, and the place is inevitably east london.  (FINALLY not cool)

Nursing (Not Bursuring) convictions of the emporer with new clothes, there is a somewhat trend in old ratty clothes being worn on young people.  Part of it is, that in NO WAY would you be employed wearing the dish-cloth as a skirt over the top of your school jumper UNLESS you were being paid lots in a media job/fashion/arts-lakky specifically in the East End, OR you don't need to work at all.  You bowl around in this get-up as a semi-political statement, and are mistaken that you look very couture.
For me personally, it was noticing a subtle harboring of jealousy (never nice) against children (ummmm...) better-dressed than I.  see below.

They actually do go into offices and do stuff involving maths key stage 2 so schuut. 

Anyway, so I guess the key point is, as long as we can just try to make the little noise as is possible while there are kids trying to have a kip, MP's trying to salvage marriages, and the media trying to toss it all up into a salad of doom pre-main course horror-hitchcock-style, where desert is the squelchy fleshy brain-blamanche of sense. . .Well we're just doing fine.