Brain drained
Oct 12th, 2008 by handolio
We’ve been doing a nice line in lazy blogging lately. My excuse is I’ve been swamped with freelance at the same time as work went crazy. I was trying to work tonight, but (sorry Dave) it’s just not happening.
A couple of weeks back I wrote a post about the state of the economy, but when I re-read it I realised I really didn’t know what I was talking about. It was easy not to worry about it back when it was the credit crunch. It sounded like breakfast.
I’ve been having something of an involuntary holiday from journalism of late. My mojo’s fucked off again for a start, but I’m less comfortable than I have been with work. An ex-colleague’s leaving do at the Dennis local stirred up a host of memories: I’ve come a long way in the last couple of years. It hasn’t all been the right direction.
So, normal Hackbashing will be resumed at some point. In the meantime, talking of Dennis, the man himself is in Brighton tomorrow night to read from his latest book of poetry. I’ll be there if I can get a ticket.
who flew the Dennis nest? and was it the K & Q or that old renovation, the Green man?
Finnamofo, and it was the King & Queen. Old times; good times.
The second hardest part of the evening was the crater where the Middlesex Hospital used to be. Last I heard they were going to convert it into luxury flats. Given the state of the economy I think they’ve given up on that one, but I thought the place was listed.
The whole area looks - and feels - different without it. Tom got lost, I just got mournful. I never thought I’d miss London.
Yeah, that huge empty space where the Middlesex should be really messed with my mental GPS. Mind you, now that the luxury development plan has no doubt fallen through, maybe they’ll build something useful on the site. Like, you know, a hospital or something.
Was that the big red building opposite Dennis with the sickly looking nurses? Good building, but not one to inspire a man back to health. More likely to appear in a Will Self novel. Everyone, and I mean everyone, needs more luxury flats. But with capitalism choking in the gutter, I predict one of those temporary brown-site car parks with aggressive wheel clampers and nick-to-order car thieves.
The area, possibly the building, makes an appearance in Graham Greene’s A Gun For Sale, which I’ve just discovered I’ve fucking lost or lent to someone or something.
Anyway, if I remember correctly the protagonist gets sold out by a dodgy doctor he goes to in an effort to change his appearance. I think the description of the doctor’s office places him somewhere near Ludlow’s desk.