Beneath the Redwood Trees

We ought to move on.  Ghosts are walking around Eden-Olympia…

J.G. Ballard, Super-Cannes.  Innit.  But this isn’t Eden, it’s the Lordship Recreation Ground. 

I been trying to catch the dragons at play.  I’ve heard this said a number of times in recent weeks, the dangers of empty form.  And that’s kung fu form, not just a play on words.  Anyone can attempt choreography.  But it takes years to build adequate foundation. 

Alone on a busy tube coach, some anarchist whore on my lap.  From West to East this time.  Got to keep the dragons playing.  There must be a whir and clicking as the CCTV cameras roll.  Hours of static, and some poor bastard sits there, paid to watch through the databases.   I struggled to learn Lion rolls the Ball.

London.  Mid-evil.  Thanks Ms Prisic.  The Knife-Grimper, here. 

I recall, the heady days of 2003: Chris Nineham moving through the ranks.  Inspecting the new recruits.  I was walking along Regency Row, some lovely Summer’s evening, arguing vehemently with old ladies, that Communist Russia in no way stood for what Marx was really getting at.  And this was months before I slithered, linear, towards Hegel.  Bristol University Arts and Social Sciences Library.  Not so brutal now. 

 

Found this in Notting Hill.  Actual needle still hits real groove.  Ol’ record skipped one beat and managed to annoy anyone who listened.  But this was my exam leave.  No sepia in the 90s but nostalgia abound. 

the Dragon reveals himself only to vanish.”  Hhhhmmmm.  Well, it’s a long way to Aldgate.  And it’s a long way to Montpelier too.  The sun sets on St Michael’s Hill, they’re gonna build there soon.  The university, not too kind to its own spirit. 

Sheppard Robson design director David Ardill described the proposal as “sensitive to its environment”.  What’s the basis?  Where’s the foundation?  Here Lam Yiu Gwai chases the dragon to catch it…

                                                 

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