Friday, April 24, 2009

Nina Simone sang...

... fresh in my ear this morning as I scuttled up to Seven Sisters station and then to Tesco, and then West Green and so on...

... Well I run to the rock

Please hide me I run to the rock

Please hide me I run to the rock

Please hide me lord

All on that day

Well the rock cried out

I can’t hide you the rock cried out

I can’t hide you the rock cried out

I ain’t gunna hide you god

All on that day

I said rock what’s a matter with you rock

Don’t you see I need you rock

Don’t let me down

All on that day

So I run to the river

It was bleedin I run to the sea

It was bleedin I run to the sea

It was bleedin all on that day

So I run to the river it was boilin

I run to the sea it was boilin

I run to the sea it was boilin

All on that day

So I run to the lord

Please help me lord

Don’t you see me prayin

Don’t you see me down here prayin

But the lord said

Go to the devil

The lord said

Go to the devil

He said go to the devil

All on that day

So I ran to the devil

He was waiting

I ran to the devil he was waiting

I ran to the devil he was waiting

All on that day

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Landing part I: rain, platinum wigged madwomen, disappointment, chocolate and gel-filled bras

Landed back in the bad old LDN.
(And you never land quite as heavily as you do in London. Concrete is heavy - and grey concrete is heavier still - and rain-wet grey concrete is heaviest.)
Crashed down smoothly with a sigh and a half-hearted attempt to dislodge the plethora of crumbs from my 'outfit'...
(...if you could call it that. Invariably I end up travelling in the most tramp-ish of guises because I always put off packing til the absolute last minute and then leave myself about 253 seconds in which to get unsmelly and presentable which really isn't enough for anybody. Especially me).
... whilst simultaneously keeping my overgrown toddler (then just days from the end of 'infant' flying status')i from toppling off of my lap, a lap which was a woefully inadequate seat for a boy his size...

Sunday, April 05, 2009

gutterbrain, sexy-teeth, velvet pants

On messenger I say:

-u should do more cardio -

-lol he says - deftly avoiding my deadly punchline
-u should do less

I'm undeterred. I want to tell him that -

-Your 'at rest' heartbeat is too fast

-Wat he says, because we do banter alot
-U shud sleep more
-Go ress

I tell him:

- last time u were at mine, my head was against your chest and I heard it
- too fast
I tell him, I was listening. I'm telling him I was listening

Him, rapid-fire:
-I'm well unfit
-Fuk u
-I admitt it
-Go fuck yurself

-indeed I say, parodying him, his answer to everything.


-I'm a bit unfit as well
-so stop cryin! lol

-Indeed he types in quickly
-I kno u r


-also cd probly use some cardio I confess

-Hmmm he says

then pause

then signs out, no goodbye.

Its a very-velvet virtual silence. Just like our actual ones.

The most un-platonic, friendship (without benefits) known to man? Perhaps.

A case of 'he's just not that into you.'? Peut-etre.

I just hope he doesn't google this! (yikes!)

But just in case:

Love u gutterbrain, sexy-teeth, Velvet Pants (not sure why the last one)... love u either way.


Thursday, April 02, 2009

Don't Be Drunk, Be Sober

My mate called me from London - I'm in Saint Lucia at the Mo, visiting fam and soaking sun - and asked me about the G20 riots. And I said, why? Whats been happening? Has it been really bad? I told her that I'd been watching American news over here and that I wasn't really that up on anything British, but that they did mention it. She said, I don't really know. I haven't been watching much news either. I don't watch the news. I thought that was an interesting thing for her to say because it resonated with me, I too have caught a heavy case of the indifference. Information overload??

I asked her about Obama... has everyone been trying to meet him now he's over there? She told me about a friend of hers - did I know her? She said the name. I said no - who works on OK magazine who'd met him and who was going to post pics of her and him on Facebook. It did a strange thing to my mind. I think we said some other things to relating to Obama, but I can't remember what... nevertheless I came round to saying what I've long thought about him. I said that he is, indubitably, a wonderful symbol, a wonderful living symbol of hope and of change, but that the universal adulation of him (and on the flipside, villification, but it's almost the same thing - dehumanization) makes me uncomfortable. He's still a politician, I said. Lets see what he does.
We've all been waiting for something like Obama. We've all been pretty dried up and cynical. We don't believe anything. We don't believe in politics because its become obvious that our voice seems to be drowned out by the great, inorganic screeching of the 'spin' machine. We don't watch the news because its saturated with relentless death and horror and because we no longer believe it's impartial. Before the great crash, we couldn't afford houses because they were too expensive and now we can't because jobs are uncertain and no one will lend us money to buy the - finally - cheaper houses. And the crash was based on nothing real. Just ideas about the value of things -thats all. Everything we believed and depended on has been exposed as a sham and completely arbitrary. We were ripe for Obama. Something post-cynicism, post-indifference, post-exhaustion and he came, joking that, "Contrary to the rumors you’ve heard, I was not born in a manger. I was actually born on Krypton and sent here by my father, Jor-el, to save the Planet Earth..." Not a joke though really. We were hoping beyond hope to be saved from ourselves, from our flabby, fed-up minds and technology addiction and powerlessness. And we got Obama! And how exciting it was for everyone, even the right-wing extremists who once again had someone to really hate!
But I said to my friend, we've got to be careful. He's a politician. All I'm saying is, don't be drunk. Be sober. She said, yeah, I like that. You should put it on a t-shirt. And I got round to thinking about how it applies in so many ways right now, in my life, my career, my (almost non)love life. Its not the age for swooning, for tricking myself under the nearest spell, but for keeping my heart steady, and loving with my eyes open. No conspiracy theories, no elaborate projections of doom, but just careful, balanced appraisal of my situation and kind treatment of my wounds.

That thought made me feel a certain level of peace, made me feel around the same age as culture, as Right Now. As though society, too, were a single working mother of thirty, trying to make sense of her scars, still young enough to crave a clear, pure moment; older, sadder, wiser, and desperate for the truth of herself.

Don't be drunk, be sober... hmmm. Metaphorical of course. I do like a nice Mojito now and again.