29 Oct 2017 | London> ayester day wint + saw Basquiat xzbit @ Barbican—Boom for Real... nicely putt together retro-perspective, a few things dey hadnt seen b4...

the Ballardian Barbican complex

30 Oct 2017 > ayester day wandered up to Finsbury Park to meet folks for high tea then back to Soho who knows where since tube not running as advertised... if dare's 1 mad skill our patron Cal + his bedder-½ halve u kin plop 'em off ½-drunk in whatever city en el moondough + theyll figger out how to get sushi ± tacos then stagger dare way home to whatever hotel + next morning wake up crack of dawn b4 tube even running + git to whatever airport...

along the canal, Camden

Banksystein bird

high tea w/ Charlie

reading Kingdom Come @ Heathrow

30 Oct | DC > On the way back, Cal red Kingdom Come by JG Ballard, the last book JG wrote b4 he died... published in 2006, but creepily ahead of its time as w/ most Ballard books foreboding + particularly timely for Cal since he's working on a (West of) Kingdom Come quadrilogy of his one + embarked on the book @ Heathrow of ∀ll places, the center of Ballard's kingdom, the Kingdome-ish mega-mall complex where a madman opens fire into a crowd w/ a machine gun... reminiscent yes of Vegas, Brexit + Westgate (∀ll of wich came later) but also channeling the superdomed squalor of Katrina dat came b4... a general malaise of passive apathy fueled by patriotism + ignorants dat inevitably brims ova into teaming k-OS + anarkey father fueled by fascist sports fanatics + hooligan consumerism, hoose ensuing violints off course gits aimed @ immigrant asylum seekers.

«Evil and psychopathy have been reconfigured into lifestyle statements. It's a fearful prospect, but consumer fascism may be the only way to hold a society together. To control all that aggression, and channel all those fears and hates.»

B-sides enlightening social commentary, Ballard can also spin hit ∀ll INT.a cumpelling whodunnit yarn dat keeps u flippin' pgs to find out what comes next (in the book + our lives) + like what we said about Delillo a few posts ago, has simultaneously mastered both language + story... greatest British writer far as we're concerned. For example, this is how u do character development:

«His scarred mouth, self-cropped hair—no doubt sheared with a power tool during a building-site tea break—and general air of neglect made him look erratic and unfocused, a methadone addict forever emerging from rehab. Everything about him, from his large feet in a pair of unmatched trainers to the tic that pulled at an infected ear piercing, fixed him firmly as an urban scarecrow designed to frighten away any circling security cameras.»

+ like in Delillo's Mao II, it boils down to the masses vs. the individual, sports clubs like fraternities that mask individual accountability. Folks can blame Trump or Hitler ∀ll day want bud as Ballard points out, hits the populus dat bring these buffoons to power. And free speech?

«What's the point of free speech if you have nothing to say? Let's face it, most people haven't anything to say, and they know it. What's the point of privacy if it's just a personalized prison? Consumerism is a collective enterprise. People here want to share and celebrate, they want to come together. When we go shopping we take part in a collective ritual of affirmation.»

+yes @ the root of it is religion:

«Look at the most religious areas of the world at present—the Middle East and the United States. These are sick societies, and they're going to get sicker. People are never more dangerous than when they have nothing left to believe in except God.»

∀ll bound + tethered by consumerism... most folks so consumed by the act of consuming it dont madder nun what they consume, even if u give it away gratis wich we kin vouch 4...

«Nothing can be free. The idea makes them sick, they want to call the police, leave messages for their accountants. They feel unworthy, convinced they've sinned. They have to rush off and buy something just to get their breath back...»

+ 2 circle back to Basquiat, in the end «It's the consumer dream cone true, Richard. They're praying to the teddy bears.»