Tag Archives: Hope

stop making sense

Earlier this year, or perhaps late last year, a correspondent, one of my boon companions from my undergraduate years, asked me where Marx went wrong. It wasn’t that broad a question in the asking but over time and consideration it … Continue reading

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a sense of north

I’ve been to a couple of gigs lately, Don Walker and Bruce Springsteen. Both were supporting new albums that no-one is really that fussed about. Bruce played in front of one hundred thousand or so, and charged a couple of … Continue reading

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the deployment of loathing

It might just be me but has anyone else noticed that Rebekah Brooks’ hair gets redder and redder, even when it’s just file footage? I’ve been wondering about this. It feels symptomatic of something being not quite right about the … Continue reading

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a deeper and whiter grey

Strange memories of a nervous election night. Five years later, six? It seems like a lifetime. It felt like a peak, a summit of sorrow. It was a night built around that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of … Continue reading

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Hope is for the hopeless

Beargirl gave us a blast on the weekend, about all the awfulness in the world: all the horror, cruelty, and injustice. She gave us both barrels about war, famine, concentration camps, hunger, disease, and predators both human and animal. It … Continue reading

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deathball

I’ve been dreaming of David Gower. David Gower on the 1986 tour of the West Indies: being beaten, being outplayed, being intimidated, being hurt, being overwhelmed by the fact that no matter what he does or how hard he tries he’s … Continue reading

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Boo Radley’s house

Gentrification is old news, it’s been going on for a long time, but not in my neighbourhood, at least not until recently. I’m part of it, we got our place fixed up, and we’ve done the renovation thing. Nice kitchen, a cleanable … Continue reading

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