The Year Zero

The Drowned World is a 1962 science fiction novel by J. G. Ballard. In contrast to much post-apocalyptic fiction, the novel features a central character who, rather than being disturbed by the end of the old world, is enraptured by the chaotic reality that has come to replace it. The novel is an expansion of a novella with the same title published in Science Fiction Adventures magazine in January 1962, Vol 4 No. 24. (Nova Publications.) This novella as referred to above is now out of print.

(Source: Wikipedia)

My enduring love of all things Ballardian is well known. I’m now starting to read some of his earlier science fiction work which I hadn’t read before.

I don’t read a lot of sci-fi but this was good. Set in the future in a ‘drowned world’, it focuses on three main characters who – rather than escape the blistering heat and floods that sweep the world – seek to embrace them. One of the key concepts (which Ballard also believes, I read in an essay at the back) is that our brains carry ‘archaic memories’ of primeval times. As the ‘de-evolution’ begins, those memories come back to haunt us.

When you start to get into reading Ballard you will quickly begin to pick up the key motifs which are apparent in everything he writes. Start with Empire of the Sun and you’ll know what I mean. He was brought up in a kind of ‘post apocalyptic world’ of his own (in his case an internment camp outside Shanghai) having lived a very privileged expatriate life before the war. Everything that happened to him during this time informs everything he would go on to write. Rather than hate that time of his life – he sees it as utterly visceral, real, colourful, alive. All that is the opposite of grey, anodyne, dull, lifeless, controlled, conventional.

I am totally attuned to his way of thinking, for many reasons.

A good read, doubly so if you like sci-fi.

And if you’re interested in Ballard and want to know more about him and his motifs, read this article in The Independent which is good.

(via Robert Longo)

(via Robert Longo)

Close relationships with those of our own sex, regardless of intensity or on which part of the spectrum they exist, are special.

I came across these pictures on Flickr which I liked. They are vintage photos, ostensibly of gay couples from the last couple of hundred years.

100+ photos in slideshow here:

To see them in higher quality, view the screenshow directly from flickr.

… I want to ride on a white horse.

(via fffffffffffftttttttttttt.)

(via Tom Eckersley, Keep Britain Tidy on Flickr)

Tom studied commercial art at Salford School of Art. During the 1930’s he was amongst the foremost poster artists of the period, producing much work for Shell-Mex and London Transport. His relationship with London Transport lasted over 50 years.

During WW2 he drew maps for the RAF and after the war continued to design posters, in 1954 he joined the teaching staff at the London College of Printing, later to become Head of Department. He helped to establish the first undergraduate courses in graphic design in Britain. Tom Eckersely was elected Royal Designer to Industry in 1961.

More from Tom Eckerlsey.

(via Thomas Herbrich)

Hydrojet

(via Thomas Herbrich)

As a child growing up in the 1980s there were two legendary music stars who really stood out from the crowd. They were Michael Jackson and Madonna.

My brother was the Michael Jackson fan who went for those albums. I was the Madonna fan (go figure!!!)

To this day I like both artists’ music. A lot.

I had a ‘close encounter’ with Michael Jackson in 2002. Seems like a long time ago and indeed it was.

I was working with Henrietta (who is the longest follower of this blog and the prior three incarnations of it) at a high level consulting firm in central London. I had a junior job and spent much of my time at that company in various adminny / cover type roles. I have good memories of that job and the people there.

Anyway. We had a very senior MP who was also a senior partner in the company. Household name, perfectly nice (though her PAs would call her ‘extremely high maintenance’). She had been exceptionally high up in government and was still extremely well connected as you’d imagine.

Well, it was a long hot summer, work was quiet and Parliament was on summer recess. She asked us if we’d like a guided tour of the Palace of Westminster. Not to be conducted by her, but another MP. Was to be a bit of a private, ‘behind the scenes’ tour, something an ordinary tourist couldn’t do. Seeing it as an excuse to get out of the office I opted to go, as did a few colleagues.

It was interesting in its own right as I had never entered the hallowed home of British politics before. And the Palace of Westminster is quite something, very impressive both inside and out. Reeks of power – old and new. So we had a decent guided tour. We were even taken up Big Ben and were able to stand behind the clock face itself which was quite fun. The most almighty din when the bell chimes, but you would expect that.

Anyway. Towards the end of the tour we were being shown something or other, it was either the House of Commons or of Lords, I forget which. We were walking along and bumped into what I can only describe as a ‘rather vibrant small party’ of people being given their own VIP tour of the Palace. Only, this wasn’t any ordinary group of people or of VIPs – this group consisted of Michael Jackson (sans the hat or face mask), David Blaine, Uri Geller, Patti Boulaye and the former exciled King of Yugoslavia. We all, quite literally, did a double take.

And because we were being shown around by an MP – and because there were virtually no MPs in the House as Parliament was on recess – MJ’s VIP tour guide insisted on MJ talking to the MP showing us round. So they chatted. For about 5 minutes. No crowds, no mass security. His party of a dozen people and our party of about 8 people, standing together as a group. I don’t think I’ve ever been that dumbfounded before or since. And I had to try soooooooo hard to stop staring. Was quite amazing (and yes, he did look v weird up close).

The 5 minutes passed and then each party went its separate way. A memorable occasion.

A convivial evening with family at a very fashionable Belgian bar/restaurant in Clerkenwell. Many moons ago I worked at The Guardian newspaper, so this part of town isn’t totally unknown to me though it’s been many years.

I had waterzooi van vis (Flemish fish stew) which I’ve never had before and which was utterly divine – and I know my divinity where food is concerned. This really was very good indeed (and was served with that dark coloured rye bread). Absolutely exquisite rich fishy broth in which were mussels, salmon, cod, prawns, potatoes, herbs, etc. Sooo good.

And it had been a while since I’d seen my brother. We met his half German, half Italian girlfriend of whom he’s evidently smitten. She was rather nice. She had that Germanic severity but mellowed by a spontaneous Latin spirit. Tall, blonde, confident, adorned with neck-scarf. Very fashionable. My mother was also on good form.

Deeply delicious food in a seriously trendy part of London that I rarely go to. My brother is very into those kinds of places whereas I, on the other hand, am not. But I don’t mind now and again.

Seeing my Russian friend this Friday evening. Hoping for conviviality.