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Friday, August 24, 2007

PARANORMAL IN THE WEST COUNTRY

Apparently, pimply-faced tosspot Peter 'Pete' Doherty has been holed up in Tintinhull, Somerset, a couple miles from our house. Rather sensibly, he stayed clear of Yeovil, otherwise every Adidas-clad Begbie wannabe on the block would be lining up to take a kick. They don't like consumptive Byronic types up Stiby Road, I'm tellin' ya...

Yesterday, he made the mistake of straying into Crewekerne ("The Big C" in local ceebee argot - Chard being "The Little C", and Yeovil being, heh, "Chopper Town"...) to either score smack or some late 70's Action annuals (continuality alert, dear reader), and got into *shock horror* a fracas with a photographer...chasing her into the George Shopping Centre and injuring her in some unspecified manner. If you've ever been to Crewekerne, the George Shopping Centre actually consists of about three, maybe four shops...used to be a great little 2nd-hand book-shop there, but it's shut now...

Anyway, the whole camera-in-Crewekerne thing freaked me, for starters...'cos the further West you go, the more unlikely the concept of photography becomes...technology starts failing soon as you cross the Great Dorset/Somerset divide: it's like The Middelmarches: technology becomes less feasible the further away from money you get...everyone knows those cunts in Dorset are loaded - Polly Harvey's got food-mixers and blenders and tellys and stuff in her house - but soon as you hit the bottom of Babylon Hill on the Sherborne Road, poverty starts noticably creeping in, and technology as a concept becomes increasingly vague and ill-defined, and magick becomes more of a possibility the nearer you get to Devon (and by the time you hit Cornwall, the people are dressed in rags, but, by Jove, sir, was that a unicorn I just saw!!?)...what was that woman thinking of, bringing a camera to Crewekerne...everyone knows those things will steal your soul... even if she had succeeded in papping Doherty, the photos would have just come out warped and distorted, like one of those modified Ralph Steadman polaroid photos...technology just don't work properly round here. We're too poor and too far away from London to appreciate it. That's the real reason I don't like CDs - digital shit sounds all fucked up and alien...

Doherty, meanwhile, is now holed up in rehab in Salisbury, Wiltshire, where, despite what Julian Cope says, sterling is still king and Science reigns over Mankind, not minimum-wage induced superstition...

9 Comments:

At 9:47 pm, Blogger Dan said...

"the further West you go, the more _unlikely_ the concept of photography becomes" - true: even just going to Tolpuddle, near Dorchester, my camera had a rough time of it (may have had something to do with getting monstrously wet), and the time we went to Cornwall...

As for "everyone knows those cunts in Dorset are loaded" - _some_ of the cunts around here are loaded; certainly all the no-talent watercolourists and potters with their 'genuine riverside cottages' and Chelsea tractors. And the yuppies polluting our town with their eyesore architecture and double-time asexual breeding.

Others of us are scraping a living. Or, in my case, not.

 
At 11:01 am, Blogger kek-w said...

"certainly all the no-talent watercolourists and potters with their 'genuine riverside cottages'" - yeah, check Abbottsbury, (home to Peej) for example - no one there actually does a 'proper' job - they're all 'artists' LOL!

Ah, course, you're a Bournemouth boy, aren't you - is that Dorset these days? Didn't it used to be Hampshire a few years back. The Dorset county boundary ends at the bottom of Babylon Hill next to the sign for Yeovil. I'm a Somerset cunt meself.

 
At 12:19 am, Blogger kek-w said...

Just back from Dorset LOL! Bridport and Charmouth...this afternoon! I do like Poole tho'...I go to the dentist down there...(don't know Bournemouth that well tho)...some of the most expensive real estate in the Uk is out in Sandbanks, Poole...still, big enclaves of poshos in Somerset too...

But this is one of the cornerstones of my, er, 'argument' LOL: the coast is a resource in itself and the (upper) middle classes have now colonised it and forced the original fisherfolk out, in the same way that working-class agricultural families can no longer afford to live in villages any more...all the farms round our way are being bought out by stud-farmers, horse-breeders, ex merchant bankers running 'organic' farm-shops, etc...village-pubs turning into wine-bars, restaurants, gastro-pubs...

What I'm proposing is a big bust-up between Somerset and Dorset, a sort of post-millennial War of the Roses, but split along class divides LOL! We, the fighting folk of Somerset send out an invite to the disposessed of Dorset to join us and rise up against the tyranny of mediocre water-colour artists, 'potters' and pet charicaturists...our first offensive/objective is to take back the south-coast; get the beaches back under the Somerset flag (I always thought it boo-hoo unfair that Dorset got the south coast and Somerset the North/Bristol Channel coast)...the Abbotsbury swannery was always a royalist stronghold (Doesn't the Crown 'own' the swans or something equally ridiculous?)...once the coast has fallen, we'll re-flood the Somerset levels and barricade ourselves in, travelling everywhere by hovercraft...

Join us, Dan, as a Dorset partisan, a free-man, as we reclaim Wessex as a land for fair-minded decent folk...!!! Albion Awake!

 
At 2:26 am, Blogger Robert said...

you shld carry on with your surrealist psychogeographic, mytho-poesistypethingy of Yeovil...make it an ongoing series :)

 
At 12:09 pm, Blogger kek-w said...

LOL!

yeah, Yeovil's never far from my mind, Rob - it informs most things I do in some bizarre way or other...it's in my blood the same way as Philadelphia seems to have inspired David Lynch. I grew up here, so every street corner or building invokes memory leakage in me...

 
At 7:38 pm, Blogger Robert said...

ill be honest,

being from another country entirely,

ive never been certain if Yeovil actually exists or if it is the product of your wonderful imagination


and yes i like not knowing,

which is why ive never asked and just let you paint a picture of the place for me :)

 
At 2:10 pm, Blogger Dominic Zero said...

This may explain why here in Ilfracombe you can by cds but they're made of wood and won't play in my London cd player.

 
At 7:05 pm, Blogger kek-w said...

See! that's what I'm talking about.

What's the internet like, up your way - down here, instead of HTML, we get pages of what looks like cave drawings....and animations that look like they've been scribbled by kids, and which move really slowly...

Gawd knows what passes for the Internet by the time you hit Penzance...

 
At 8:23 pm, Blogger Dominic Zero said...

Yeah, the Internet here looks like it's all done in crayon.

 

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