Am I alone in bemoaning the literary condition of London’s public transport community?
As I sit in the carriage of my local tube I can’t help musing that we resemble an army of cloned bibliophiles. It’s like taking a pew in an English class where each student grasps replica set-texts except that, in this case, the material is far less erudite. Familiar editions of Stieg Larsson, Dan Brown and the latest Vampire-inspired trilogy glare at me mockingly from nearly every seat. I’m ashamed to admit that, when didactic adverts on the windows order me to be more sympathetic to my fellow passengers, I find myself scorning them instead.
It’s not that I fundamentally bear a grudge against any of the authors who grace our bestsellers lists. It’s not even that I think they’re particularly bad books. What I object to is the fact that we all seem to be consuming exactly the same material. How can we possibly hope to form a truly original thought in this kind of environment? We’re not living in a Big Brother autocracy. We have the free will to infuse our imaginations with whatever brain candy we desire.
Here’s a basic list for some light inspiration:
Anyway, my intention was not to vent pet peeves but to publicise Kites’ latest show. Unfortunately, I fear I have created many enemies during this bigoted outburst.
If you don’t yet hate me please come and watch Kites perform at the Underbelly on Hoxton Square this Saturday.
Be advised: those who clutch copies of Twilight will be turned away at the door.
This is a joke by the way. Or is it?
