Really like this Lawrence. Thanks.
Cheers
Tim
On 24 Sep 2014, at 13:25, Lawrence Upton wrote:
> a square of denim, squareness imposed
>
> by the photograph containing its image,
>
> buttons done up; head level, tapering into
>
> a kind of wedge which one might call the nose;
>
> all's quiet, the houses smoking, hills deserted
>
>
>
> the virgin has sumptuous hair, the child god set aside,
>
> her hands clasped together loosely in an ill-fitting jumper.
>
>
>
> Usually all the religious icons have been smashed.
>
> He clenches his fist, but does not look at anyone.
>
> The sleeping bag slips slowly off the bed, half unzipped, flaps
>
> folded back, turned down like lapels;
>
> or skin and flesh in a bungled operation;
>
> a joke gorilla breaks through the forest,
>
> pretending to be the god of war,
>
> but no one believes in it;
>
> a young girl scratches her head,
>
> a sign of sophisticated bewilderment
>
> because she is smiling
>
> and does not seem to be at all afraid.
>
>
>
> Winter is close: the flat extremities
>
> of the inhabitants cast low shadows
>
> and do not raise themselves above the artificial
>
> darkness coming in off the sea; all growl
>
> at each other and attempt to speak,
>
> but no one succeeds in communicating anything
>
> beyond malice.
>
>
>
> Two headless corpses have been laid, face up,
>
> upon each other; hands which slapped together
>
> in a childish game; one man's shirt is glistening
>
> with blood; she looks up at him from the warm floor;
>
> firelight reflects off a bright cheek;
>
> she is smiling; she is welcoming; he hesitates
>
> and then he speaks. She does not listen.
>
>
>
> The steps of the pyramid rise towards midday sun.
>
> A rotten cow's head feeds flies. It is the autumn.
>
> The people have no hope of returning to their homes;
>
> but, perhaps, if they can stop laughing, there is still something
>
> to be done. There shall be no escape, but there is a chance
>
> that some sense of community may be faked in these circumstances,
>
> despite all. They gain nothing by submission,
>
> except heavier burdens. Whether their masters quarrel
>
> with each other or agree, their bondage is equally ruinous.
>
> There is too much salt in the soil for proper crops.
>
> There is too much sulphur in the air to breathe correctly;
>
> but a sniggering sort of laughter is permissible.
>
>
>
> Headless corpses descend the escalator.
>
> An attendant calls out the range for the buyers to hear:
>
> green over blue, blue over blue, blue denim. Squared off blues
>
> in curving shapes. Our heavyweight stone-washed classic
>
> is a real classic. Nothing is any longer safe from their greed and lust
>
> yet what a mere handful the invaders are.
>
>
>
> She adopts the stance of a man and leans upon his shoulder.
>
> He affects not to see her. He does not reject the advance.
>
> He puts on his glasses, throws his jacket backwards
>
> over the other shoulder, and looks into the middle distance
>
> with smug assurance: blue denim, blue over blue, ecru, black.
>
> There are two styles for men and one for ladies.
>
> Blue denim, blue over blue, green over blue, ecru and black.
>
> Her majesty's equerry takes over the microphone. Looks like
>
> an elongated diamond or a double-headed axe. Bottle. Navy.
>
> Raspberry. White. Cut from a generously-sized unisex block.
>
> Can be worn on its own or underneath a jacket, giving a smart
>
> but casual look. Style reference Alan. He is on his own.
>
> The sky has darkened. Leggings are made from our soft quality cotton.
>
> There is ample evidence that pepper sprays are only mildly carcinogenic
>
> and are not therefore greatly deleterious to health
>
> unless the target should be grossly asthmatic. Camel; khaki;
>
> ecru; taupe. Style reference Stan, who has nearly thirty years with the
> force.
>
>
>
> We must not be scared by the loss of one or two battles.
>
> Wear your best working clothes, put your hand behind your head
>
> and stretch and laugh. Ankle length. Black, navy, grey marl, ecru.
>
> Everyone should have several of these in their wardrobe.
>
> He pulls a brick from the wall and hurls it towards the enemy;
>
> but they laugh as they come forward. They have water-cannon;
>
> they have rockets; they have curved sticks set with broken glass;
>
> they have the newspapers behind them and bright lights to dazzle.
>
> One size fits all. The same paralysis in the face of the foe;
>
> the same insubordination towards that which had been agreed.
>
> She, however, wore his boots and wore them to great effect,
>
> one leg curled around her, one leg cocked, elbow on it at the knee,
>
> the hand of the other arm and hand sub-system clutching
>
> the ankle of the leg curled round her. She had full lips
>
> and slightly tousled hair; her smile suggested honour and dignity
>
> but stopped short of bloodshed.
>
>
>
> The kids came out of the woods after a hard struggle:
>
> bottle, red, navy, white, birch grey. They were made
>
> from the same heavy fabric as their parents,
>
> the summer now far spent, and they were watching
>
> the points where danger threatens. Bottle; black; navy; birch grey.
>
> Everything combines to hinder or delay a new campaign. Bottles,
>
> broken in fights or by carelessness, it hardly matters. Birch grey,
>
> alder, oak and ash. White where the fires burned the fiercest.
>
> Red of your blood --
>
>
>
> Cut out the sentimentality. Cut out
>
> all of it or I'll cut it out of you myself.
>
> The plan was hastily conceived.
>
> Some of them were self-assured;
>
> some of them tried to smile and look composed.
>
> None wanted to fight. None wanted to retreat. None wanted to die.
>
> They copied each others' identity papers and pretended
>
> to relationships they did not have. Black, navy, green and red,
>
> Bordeaux and green, style reference Rome. The strong carried the weak.
>
> None were well but most survived and all contained their rage
>
> until there should be some possibility of retribution. Navy, dark red,
>
> olive, petrol; black, navy, bottle of wine; dark denim, light denim,
>
> they were suddenly upon us, swimming whilst carrying their arms,
>
> their horses under control, the background music synched
>
> to the camera. What could embarrass or defeat a foe who attacked like that?
>
>
>
> The photographs do not do justice to this excellent piece.
>
> A small roll neck, the head disabled or cut off.
>
> Other features include an open welt.
>
>
>
> She turns her back to the camera, then turns her head to face it.
>
> The hair flounces forward with the movement; the face starts to smile.
>
> The hands are wrong; the jumper's shapeless; but the guns
>
> are in position and the population has been gradually led
>
> into the demoralising temptations of arcades,baths and banquets.
>
>
>
> This is an established classic and is equally suitable for men and women.
>
> He stands behind her with the gun in the small of her back.
>
> They smile at the commandant who is baffled and in despair.
>
> Black. Indigo. Black, indigo. And then she gets the joke
>
> and she just can't stop laughing. I'm going to fall off the log,
>
> you bastard, she says. A woman passing with her dog on a leash
>
> tries to look shocked, can't quite make it. Flecks of mud stain
>
> his white shirt. Slowly she takes off the superfluous rain coat
>
> to reveal her jacket, nautical blue, cactus, India ink.
>
> We've chosen this jacket with great care.
>
> Produced from the finest, heavy grain hide,
>
> it is really a substantial garment. It will get better and better
>
> with age whilst keeping out the worst that the English winter
>
> can throw at you, whilst looking incredibly stylish as well.
>
>
>
> When I consider the motives we have for fighting
>
> and the critical positions we are in, I have a strong feeling
>
> that the united front you are showing today will mean
>
> the dawn of liberty for the whole of Britain.
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