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 Post subject: September Randon
PostPosted: Mon Sep 12, 2016 3:04 pm 
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Location: Northampton
pics from this years local village Scarecrow Festival the theme was Hollywood - movies and stars

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Meryl accepts another Oscar


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A Fistful of Dollars (pounds actually)


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talk about outdoing the neighbours, these guys went really over the top this year

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but does this really count as a scarecrow?


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my lad is not sure about that cod-piece


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The Terminator even had a flashing eye!


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Jaws 2


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Charlie hasn't spotted Spiderman


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Jaws 3?


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I'm not sure this is actually a scarecrow


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these fellas were playing Alpine Horns in the churchyard


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a covers band provide the outside entertainment, yes they did Live & Let Die too


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the after-hours entertainment have a fag break in the car park, classy


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old punks watch a London bus go by, I dunno why


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man at work, perhaps


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 Post subject: Re: September Randon
PostPosted: Fri Sep 23, 2016 2:43 pm 
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The new book by Alan Moore is (Quoting special Billy G) high art.

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 Post subject: Re: September Randon
PostPosted: Fri Sep 23, 2016 3:12 pm 
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Alan Moore lives literally down the road from me! He is our town's most famous celeb


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 Post subject: Re: September Randon
PostPosted: Fri Sep 23, 2016 3:16 pm 
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The majority of the book is set in the boroughs.

Born/bred in town.

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 Post subject: Re: September Randon
PostPosted: Mon Sep 26, 2016 4:11 am 
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last time I saw him he had his own box at the Derngate Theatre to see comedian Stewart Lee


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 Post subject: Re: September Randon
PostPosted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 8:57 am 
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Head Gardener Wrote:
last time I saw him he had his own box at the Derngate Theatre to see comedian Stewart Lee


Cool, I've never seen him about. I live Sywell area now, what area are yourself/him based? I may stalk him.

I had a walk around the spring boroughs earlier today. It sure has changed, I needn't have bothered with the stab vest.

I'm just in awe.

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Quote:
In the half a square mile of decay and demolition that was England’s Saxon capital, eternity is loitering between the firetrap tower blocks. Embedded in the grubby amber of the district’s narrative among its saints, kings, prostitutes and derelicts a different kind of human time is happening, a soiled simultaneity that does not differentiate between the petrol-coloured puddles and the fractured dreams of those who navigate them. Fiends last mentioned in the Book of Tobit wait in urine-scented stairwells, the delinquent spectres of unlucky children undermine a century with tunnels, and in upstairs parlours labourers with golden blood reduce fate to a snooker tournament.

Disappeared lanes yield their own voices, built from lost words and forgotten dialect, to speak their broken legends and recount their startling genealogies, family histories of shame and madness and the marvellous. There is a conversation in the thunderstruck dome of St. Paul’s cathedral, childbirth on the cobblestones of Lambeth Walk, an estranged couple sitting all night on the cold steps of a Gothic church-front, and an infant choking on a cough drop for eleven chapters. An art exhibition is in preparation, and above the world a naked old man and a beautiful dead baby race along the Attics of the Breath towards the heat death of the universe.

An opulent mythology for those without a pot to piss in, through the labyrinthine streets and pages of Jerusalem tread ghosts that sing of wealth and poverty; of Africa, and hymns, and our threadbare millennium. They discuss English as a visionary language from John Bunyan to James Joyce, hold forth on the illusion of mortality post-Einstein, and insist upon the meanest slum as Blake’s eternal holy city. Fierce in its imagining and stupefying in its scope, this is the tale of everything, told from a vanished gutter.

Library Journal
★ 07/01/2016
This latest work by Moore (Watchmen; V for Vendetta; From Hell) is difficult to define by flimsy constraints such as genre. In fact, during a first read-through, it's hard to say what this literary behemoth is even about. Ten years in the making, it is, on one hand, a fictional history of Northampton, England, stretching out over millenia. On another hand, it is a story of siblings Michael and Alma Warren, their extended family, and how they and their ancestors shape the fortunes of the denizens of The Boroughs, the ghetto in which they live. But also, and more importantly, it is a story about everything: life, death, the afterlife, free will, famous Northamptonians (John Clare, Oliver Cromwell, Philip Doddridge) rubbing elbows with prostitutes and drug addicts over time and space. It is about how, no matter what happens in life, we all go to the same place when we die; how everything, literally everything, is determined by four angels playing a game of snooker. It is confusing, hilarious, sad, mind-blowing, poignant, frustrating, and one of the most beautiful books ever written. VERDICT More of a work of art than a novel, this book simply needs to be read.—Tyler Hixson, Library Journal

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“The endgame of epic modernism. There is nothing quite like this book in scale and bustling frenzy. Gamble everything. Read Jerusalem and you’ll never emerge in the same place.” – Iain Sinclair

“The highest achievement of the most ground-breaking English writer alive, Jerusalem will shatter your assumptions about what 26 letters and the human imagination can achieve.” – John Higgs

Jerusalem buzzes with life, it’s a semiotic ocean of a book which makes Ulysses look like a primer. Vigorous, vulgar and wise it’s packed with a million observations and insights and some of the best writing on the planet. It’s what we’ve been waiting for — the great British novel.” – Michael Moorcock


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 Post subject: Re: September Randon
PostPosted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 11:02 am 
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Quote:
Cool, I've never seen him about. I live Sywell area now, what area are yourself/him based? I may stalk him


I've only seen him on one other occasion out in the wild, he was wandering the Kettering Road, he had a stick and looked grumpy
but it was certainly him, I nearly approached him but couldn't think of what to say without probably come across as a fanboy myself.
I am in Queens Park but I get about town trawling the charity shops etc, you've probably seen me on my knees digging somewhere lol
I'd be wary of stalking him he'd whack you with his stick which is probably a sword anyway!


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