I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.
hiding from the rain
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
in a post. I want to be remembered
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
we can only engage in such a way
my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
so the method has to be autonomous
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.I am below everything.
not their contents
but i respect your search
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
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i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.
He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.
Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.
Thank you, Jack
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them