Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Deadweight

00.40 | 13/12/05
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A weekend that kicked-off with a pay-review and an energetic xmas party closes under the pall of an aerial oil-slick. The noxious cloud formations, sandwiched-up from Herts to the estuary, now stacking over Hampstead. From Parliament Hill I watched transfixed by, and yet resigned to, the message within the spectacle. Watching the steady progress of the great curve of filth, rolling across north and east London, like a vast shroud, I felt I was witnessing a fore-warning of the future awaiting this great metropolis. I finally broke away from the small crowd breathing in, and then tasting the soot, drifting down from 2000ft overhead. Like a Hurricane plays on the Magdala's sound system. Helen is away to another family wedding, I nurse a pint and a prize a clear concsience.

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