• Foldout poster from Nilsson's Son of Schmilsson, 1972, featuring the inimitable I'd Rather Be Dead.
One journalistic theory suggests that music's most exciting when performed slightly out of time. While that's true of The Slits' shambolic approach to reggae, the excitement of their angular assault can certainly ebb after a couple of tracks. Longer lasting for me were the effects of their iconic shoot for the LP, Cut, which eschewed the Feminist agenda of the day for a form of feral sorority. It also looked like a heap of fun.
• The Slits' Arianna Forster (Ari Up), 1962-2010
Most weeks we're busy scheming about how to do less work, then some quotes arrive (plus carriage, plus VAT) and it's straight back to the in-house aesthetic. Most recently we've been printing our own ceramics packaging. Maybe a bit crude but not entirely without charm... I hope.
I've checked the giant to-do list on the on the rear of 1976's Self Sufficiency bible and there's definitely no mention of theft prevention. Then again, after all your time, toil, care and cost, why would you rationally expect anyone to steal your veg? This week, organic leeks, onions, beans, squash, cauliflower, sweetcorn, courgettes and a decorative pumpkin for Edward to carve (an experience he skipped in boyhood), join the list of produce purloined from the allotment.
Steadfastly refusing to believe that people need starve in countries with welfare, I'm left pondering the delusional narratives that perpetrators must cook-up in order to make their actions morally palatable. Perhaps that's why I've been a little harsh on this Bosch-like borough lately, although (given the number of 'I Heart Hackney' totes I see daily) there must be some pros bobbing on the sea of cons.
Here's one… my local cat ramp; an ugly, makeshift structure but, spanning three flights, it's also come to symbolise neighbourly acquiescence and, more importantly, it's so cute when the cat comes down it.