Thursday 5 August 2010

Some kind of utopia..

I appear to have landed in some kind of spooky futuristic feminist utopia. You look out along the street and all you see is happy women and happy babies and every second shop is a kindergarten. You sit in a trendy bar (they are all trendy bars) and in flock ladies with articulated buggies to allow their babies to gawp at projections of fish floating across the big screen. There are NO teenagers, it appears they have been banished (there shall be no awkward interruption of maternity!) and what remains of dissolute manhood sits around in huddles in the park nursing their bottles of beer and wondering, no doubt, 'where did it all go wrong?' and 'shall we have another game of (municipally provided) ping pong?'. This place is called something like Prince-lawuer-berg but I'm not sure, just call it 'motherworld', and it is very strange indeed. Also, the ladies all seem to scowl at me.
In the apartment analysis appears to confirm the situation. Our host, for instance, seems to have taken a dedicated stance against Thomas Edison. It appears she has a phobia with electricity. We could start with the lights, but we must quickly move on to electrical equipment in general, in that it appears to exist but certainly doesn't work in any conventional way. The CD player spat out the Foo Fighters after one verse and presumably only responds to Suzanne Vega, the tv is dedicated to the Wombles, the dishwasher is suddenly 'me'. Meanwhile, the decor, elegantly drawn as it is, is elegantly drawn tits, arse and cunt in multiplicity without the least hint of pornographic interest. I feel I have been finally committed to 're-education'.
By nature I'm not much one for theories of the 'sexualization of space' but I'm sure in one now. Luckily I'm reading an excellent book, 'The Spiv and the Architect' (Hornsey) a reading of 'queer roles in the spacial practice of London's post war years' (for balance) which is fabulously homosexual, and therefore, I may be undertaking some kind of life changing therapy.
Meanwhile materialist analysis tells me, 'when the wall came down the students came to live here because it was cheap, the locals evacuated somewhere else because for them it wasn't anymore, and now all the students are breeding, and tomorrow it really is Notting Hill'. But students tend to be pretty crap at materialist analysis just at the time they should be bathing in it.

1 comment:

  1. Hey old son. 'Life changing therapy?' Should Angie; the White Horse & I be worried? Nick.

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