Oh go and look yourself, I'm not going to give you the link. Hey you can't go on Wikipedia today. Good on 'em! Anyway the Gurneys Pitta - it's a pretty little bird from Thailand and it wouldn't look out of place in Joan Miro's Garden (above). It's The Garden I want to talk about today as that's where I mostly live like all the other disgusting animals. You probably like them fine with their colourful feathers, tawny fur or weird spikes- yes they're very pretty just like the less animated living forms I'm supposed to tend but can any of them do.... THIS!
Fuck, I can't do it after all.
Neither can I fly (anymore) so like you filthy primates I'm forced to use artificial means to move through the air and facilitate my intercontinental travel which I don't do a lot but is sometimes necessary and yes..pleasant. I like travelling through the air, it reminds me of that earlier time when I really was genuinely much better than you. Yes. Look at yourself. How big are your wings? What's that? No wings? Sauropsids roooool! It was so long ago the memories have become fuzzy and unreal like something I've made up in my mind. Like Brian Dunning.
Any-way. This inability to fly was what made me realise I was being a tiny tad hypocritical when I woke from my doze this morning and cursed the name Boris Johnson. Which bit of our garden are they going to ruin by putting a whopping great airport on? Well this time they're going to have to build a fucking great island in the Thames estuary east of London followed by the vast transport infrastructure it would take to service it.The business community say we can't do without such a thing. Well I'm a businessman and no-one asked me. I'd always favoured expanding one of the airports in the middle of England like RAF Finningly (which gets blown up so satisfyingly in Threads), which is either East Midlands or Robin Hood airport or both or neither and then running a high-speed rail-link from there to all the conurbations, seeing as they are going to that anyway through Penda's Kingdom in the Chilterns. Environmentally my plan probably treads on many, many toes but you can see why Boris Johnson would rather inflict his maratime-aviation-environmental disaster on us instead. As Terry Christian would say....."It's that London again".
I like aviation. I'll admit it. It's fun. I live near a major international airport and love seeing the planes go by and hearing that amazing noise as they air-brake or whatever it is they're doing. I fairly often see the Airbus A380 go over and it's terrific. You see it dissappear off in the distance for miles and it always makes me think of the end of Book 1 of The Ballad of Halo Jones when the Clara Pandy takes off. HOW-ever, I also like biodiversity and low carbon emissions and all that stuff. There's tough choices to be made. It's hard shit. I'm opposed to Boris Island like I was opposed to Severn Barrage (not going to happen! Thanks austerity!) as they seemed like a Soviet-era mass scale solution but at the same time I don't appear to be opposed to the existence of the Netherlands, or at least the safe existence of a load of their population behind massive artificial defences. What to do? I'm so confused. I tell you what I'll deal with it by taking some really powerful drugs. Then who cares?
....Well, that was pretty good but I still care about the garden. Adam One said I had to tend it and I'll be fucked if I'll see some Bullingdon bastards build more money-making machines on the poor old Thames Estuary. I saw my first Brent Geese on that Estuary. They're not as pretty as Gurney's Pitta but they're pretty damn cool. It's already had enough abuse in it's history and within living memory the hard work of humans working together and the inexorable decline of British industry has brought it back to life again supporting fish and otters and lots of other kinds of unpleasant little animals that you like.Ruin the East Midlands instead!
Here's another perspective on The Garden from TheGroundhogs who were pioneering alternative environmental lifestyles before even I existed and I am very old. They were the pinnacle of Blues-Rock and it is entirely thanks to a gentleman I cannot name except to call him 'Scooter Anecdote Hero' who introduced me to the album from which this song comes. It's called Thank Christ for the Bomb which was the title of this post and had nothing else to do with its contents at all.
Meanwhile in Shropshire, they're glass blowing....
No comments:
Post a Comment