Saturday, September 29, 2007
Wigga and Mockney
There was a young man called Robert (sounds like a limerick) behind the counter in Robert Dyas today (could his surname possibly be Dyas? A frisson of excitement goes through me at the thought) who spoke perfect Wigga. These new languages are fascinating; as we get our chops around Kate Nash's extraordinary drama-school Mockney, are we preparing ourelves for the new GCSE subject, Greater London Linguistics?
That's enough pompous ranting for an hour, day, week and month.
I was thinking about Two-Things yesterday as I sat in a traffic jam on the North Circular, because I was sitting in a traffic jam, but I was also gazing at four or five of those massive spindly cranes against the skyline, moving at a snail's pace through the dawn, so graceful and yet so industrial at the same time. So the traffic jam became completely insignificant in comparison. And I thought about One-Thing experiences: being petrified by fear at the dentists, or being in love and only focusing on your loved one, with everything else excluded. I have read that autistic people are Hundreds-of-Things people, who just cannot work out what to exclude and what to include, with everything being of equal value and equal confusion to them.
I spoke to Caroline this morning; I'd been worried about whether she liked the book or not, but she gave it a huge thumbs up although she brought up a couple of points, one of which was the fact that I'd thought that wearing a boiler suit would protect me from being assaulted. As she rightly pointed out, even old tweedy ladies get raped and the myth about women wearing sexy clothes being easy targets (and the only targets) is just that- a complete load of rubbish. Another thing she noticed was the fact that I didn't challenge the assumption that guitars were male, phallic symbols. I had just read so much about cock-rock that I'd gone along with this without even thinking. How silly! I play a guitar that I call The Green Goddess!
The pic was taken on Dolph's porch in Concord. I'll tip Paleface up the right way when I've bluetoothed him on to this computer, but I want a cupatea first.
Dear helen,it was the 70s.And i was listening to Capital Radio Ind.Rec.Lab.Charts,and at no 17 The Chefs.24 Hours.I was hooked, and went to see you the very same night at The Moonlight Club,the rest is history
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