Meeja Hoors
Monday, September 25, 2006
The embryonic advisory
(brought to you by Smuggies!)
* Despite antenatal worries about whether you will be a responsible parent/love them enough/do your best by them, soon you will become besotted by their every move and willing to preserve them from the harshness of Mundo Exterior with formaldehyde, if necessary. Because you own them like an insurance policy.
* You will develop a long list of nicknames – some pertaining to their chosen name, some pure flights of fancy – and, having been reluctant to join in the usual babybabble, develop the most ludicrous language possible by way of ‘communication’ with the nonplussed newborn. Pop songs will be cannibalised and applied to the hapless subjects. Oh, yessy-wessie, they will be trilby.
* You will get selfish, nipping off for a quick browse on the computer even though you said you were tidying up/getting their clothes/making dinner.
* Having fed and changed and fed and changed all weekend, you will develop a sense of martyrdom and start to resent the colonisation of every waking moment, as well as the milkpuke on every top.
* You will wake up thinking you have crushed the children (if you have let them sleep in the bed). Don’t worry, this shows the necessity of childcare is imprinted on your mind.
* You will wake up thinking you have crushed the children even if they weren’t beside you. Er, this is maybe just me now.
* You will have horrible kiddy-decapitation dreams. Yep, definitely my own brain working overtime here.
* You will meet Azahoth, who will ask you to list the seven keys of hell before your little boy dissolves into your arm and you wake up streaming sweat. OK, I’d been reading Lovecraft at the time…
* For all of the above, you will breathe a sigh of relief when reality (this time gladly) impinges and the little smashers are moving about as normal
(brought to you by Smuggies!)
* Despite antenatal worries about whether you will be a responsible parent/love them enough/do your best by them, soon you will become besotted by their every move and willing to preserve them from the harshness of Mundo Exterior with formaldehyde, if necessary. Because you own them like an insurance policy.
* You will develop a long list of nicknames – some pertaining to their chosen name, some pure flights of fancy – and, having been reluctant to join in the usual babybabble, develop the most ludicrous language possible by way of ‘communication’ with the nonplussed newborn. Pop songs will be cannibalised and applied to the hapless subjects. Oh, yessy-wessie, they will be trilby.
* You will get selfish, nipping off for a quick browse on the computer even though you said you were tidying up/getting their clothes/making dinner.
* Having fed and changed and fed and changed all weekend, you will develop a sense of martyrdom and start to resent the colonisation of every waking moment, as well as the milkpuke on every top.
* You will wake up thinking you have crushed the children (if you have let them sleep in the bed). Don’t worry, this shows the necessity of childcare is imprinted on your mind.
* You will wake up thinking you have crushed the children even if they weren’t beside you. Er, this is maybe just me now.
* You will have horrible kiddy-decapitation dreams. Yep, definitely my own brain working overtime here.
* You will meet Azahoth, who will ask you to list the seven keys of hell before your little boy dissolves into your arm and you wake up streaming sweat. OK, I’d been reading Lovecraft at the time…
* For all of the above, you will breathe a sigh of relief when reality (this time gladly) impinges and the little smashers are moving about as normal
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
It's your Shawcrosses...
Cull reasons that to let writers like Billy boy off the hook now would be nothing short of appeasement
Friday, September 01, 2006
Ersatz gentrification of Elephant continues
New and recent flat developments on Wansey Street and Steedman Street. The marine latter, ‘South Central East’, looks pretty exclusive, and visually gauche, while the former is a tangerine dream of wood facading next to Southwark library and museum.
With the wider area, including parts of Blackfriars to the north, one of the last central zones to be colonised by people in search of an authentic urban buzz, expect more ‘unique’ modern living projects such as these. Developers no doubt continue to sniff round what is now seen as the failed utopian modernism of estates such as Deacon Way, even though they look fine and functioning. 
