ARP – The death of the dream
To add insult to injury - Aintree Retail Park is owned by the Crown.
These things seem based on the car model and are heavily reliant on cars to both get there and get home with all your gear. There is little greenery at this place. Just big shit shops. My mood is not the way it might be in a town centre. The car park is usually very busy.
As I go home I feel no better. In fact I feel worse. This is not how shopping is supposed to be.
People with snarling faces and not a smile for miles around.
I get most of what I need but have to be mindful to not let the negativity of the place get to me so much. This is my day off. This is supposed to be retail therapy.
Therapy.
Not mild torture.
I used to watch men get excited in places like B and Q. I used to die a little every time I went in there.
Maybe I’m a beatnik and I think too much.
But goodness, this place has no soul.
I need greenery.
Culture and variety.
Anywhere but here.
I speak to myself.
Who are you thinking to?
You are privileged to be here.
Seize the Day and all that.
There is something about the sun on concrete.
It is as if it would be better if it was darker.
So we might not see this in high definition.
Like concrete car parks from the 1980s that smell of piss.
Or some post war estate with no green anywhere.
Just shining light on shining shite.
The Cinema – The dream rekindled?
Jim Rohm, the late business philosopher used to say - ‘go to the show’ - as in get out and do stuff…
He is right…
I went to the Cinema to see a film that set me back 13 pounds. I think that was a cheap ticket too…
On the way in they are selling unhealthy food by the shitload in huge cups and packets…
Like four days worth of shite…
In one go…
And when I get to my seat they are all munching away like motherfuckers…
I hate the sound of other people chewing…
The seats are boss…
Reclining etcetera…
Which is good as it is a three hour film…
And I get here twenty minutes after the start time…
To avoid the adverts…
And still have twenty minutes of stuff before it starts…
I think if aliens landed and just saw the adverts we show and some of the trailers…
They would leave quietly…
And write ‘fucked’ and ‘lost it’ in their reports…
And that is in the ‘democracies’…
If North Korea spewed shite like that…
We would all know about it…
Yet it is okay here…
They say you should suspend your disbelief…
And I do…
This is a sacred story to me…
And they take a bit of license that I judge a bit harshly…
But I think another watch will settle it for me…
Another time…
This is part 2…
And I watched the first part twice…
To truly get it...
The film transcends both in plot and in effect…
And when I have to go to the toilet…
I am under its spell…
And I stomp the corridor like Paul Atreides…
Muad’dib…
The Kwizatz Haderach…
The Messiah…
At the films end…
I almost think as an anxious trigger response…
That it was shite…
But it wasn’t…
It was epic…
And I resent those that leave straight away…
As if life goes on…
When although it does…
It shouldn’t….
Slavoj Zizek once wrote that we often leave a cinema in a ‘wow’ state that leads us to want to change or forever remember…
But the next day…
We have often forgotten…
And such is life itself…
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