The High School boys. They wear those here too. they call them dusters. well perhaps there is a finer distinction.. A true duster is canvas i think. A bit alarming because that was the style of the kids who did the famous school shooting here in oregon. but its inevitable i suppose, as is everything.. Virilio talks about a 'black party' which isn't anything racial, but people who are radical activists for death.. basically a political organization based on radical depopulation theories..the party of serial murder.. I'm sure Thomas DeQuincey wouldve found that interesting as i certainly did. the urban planner as philosopher as prophet in the old Orwellian mode.. They come with leather dusters & skull armbands in the night.. rousting us from our dotty dreams of warm porridge and googlevision.. :)
on a perhaps lighter note I just watched The System (1964) aka The Girl Getters http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0060461/ which must've been filmed somewhere along there.. Is it really warm enough to swim? There's some ruins in the film but I can't figure out where it was filmed. Somewhere near Brighton? The next year Oliver Reed would play Bill Sikes in the Oscar winner Oliver. Really enjoyed seeing John Alderton, and a young David Hemmings in this as well as good old Ollie R. Though I like "These are the Damned" much better because.. It's got art, and sci-fi and apocalypse.. Next up is The Girl on a Motocycle (1968) which is really almost the exact opposite film in someways.. similiar nonetheless anyway.. Madame Bovary in leather? http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0063013/ I wouldve been 1yr old when that came out. But I've seen too many tired french gangster flicks with Alain Delon.. Purple Noon best thing he ever did.. Thanks for this piece. always enjoy a cinematic peek at old Mother Albion.. lq ----- Original Message ----- From: Pixel To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA Sent: Wednesday, November 30, 2005 1:16 AM Subject: A dickens of a morning every morning when i drop the kids at school after i've been blinded by the sunrise hitting the mirror sea, i drive home via Ovingdean wiggling my way through tiny roads dotted with cottages and horses and make my way back to the sea front, each time i spot the same young man walking on the pavement halfway between the wooden shed that sells logs and Christmas trees and the college for the blind that often has archery boards set up on it's grounds. come rain or shine he is always determinedly wearing the same black trilby hat and the same long shiny black leather coat and the same pony tail, his dark hair pulled tight at the base of his skull fully exposing his wispy sideburns. he always seemed a lonely sort, i could imagine him reaching his daily destination, whether it be college or work and setting himself down into some quiet corner, ignoring the fact that he is being ignored by his colleagues or fellow students, only speaking when his opinion is asked and then sometimes allowing himself to wax about his favourite guitar riff or computer game. he seemed so rigidly solitary every morning heading towards the sea front. until today when i turned onto the road that leads to the sea front and there he was, once more in his usual outfit and walking beside him was another young man, no hat and certainly no long hair but he too donned a long shiny black leather coat and there crawling on the right hand side of his neck was , a spiders web tattoo his dishevelled blonde hair shoved awkwardly to one side and his face contorted against the cold as he turned to listen to his hatted friend as he nattered on in amiable companionship. a Smike, if ever i saw one, to his Nicholas. xp
