kill * a * instinkt

kill * a * instinkt

There's a lot of things about modernity that you have to get used to.

Like, I often think, if my grandma came back, what things would be surprising to her?

First off - and this is probably more urban London than the Manchester borscht belt - is graffiti.

So this one, across the road from me, in deepest Mapesbury (technically, a conservation area, but hey) is an interesting example. I like urban art - there's a real skill to the loud, urgent lines of well executed graffiti. When people do bad tags, though, I don't like it. I think if they're going to practice, they should practice on the inside of their own walls.

This one, I'm ambivalent: good type, but not a fluid hand. Needs more practice, definitely needs more colour.

Next peice of modernity: the amount of time people spend untanging their headphones/wires to their peripheral - but vital - technology. Even in the wireless age, there's just a lot of extra things to do.

Final - on current list - the whole approximeet/verging on vaguely rude approach to social engagements. Don't get me wrong: I'm as guilty as anyone else, but I have my Grandma's (appointment, not personal) diary from 1939, and it's full of wonderfully drafted little notes of theatres, and dinners (surprising, given the imminent war) that I imagined were planned well ahead. Nowadays, most of my friends don't have an event horizon bigger than a fortnight, and for some, even that's pushing it.