Recent Highlights

1. Pshychogeographicl labotomy: a Israeli avant-garde performance night in Hackney, in a desecrated church. It fucked my head completely, didn't know in which language I should think about it. All in English, everything (the sense of humour) was straight out of Jerusalem, but there, in North London. I yearned for some kind of continuity, something to smooth the edges of this dislocation. Found some solace with Pollyanna Frank, the last gig.

2. 4th November(a) Guy Fawks day, going back to my reqautted old squat and finding my old room thoroughly polishized /punkified. The uneasy haunted passing through the spaces once painfully inhibited. So much is just the same: the bikes cramped in the hall. The dread of art-toss-housemates (only his bike was there). A cycle ride there, up the Rye, to the sounds of London's philharmonic fireworks orchestra; and back, when it's all dying down, madness over, time for winter. Early November is a turning point.
And in between: a bonfire, in the back yard of the Villas; we burnt the deck-chairs Michael skipped last year.

3. 4th of November(b) all the crazy bangs, sometimes- not too often - take me back to that night, in Tel Aviv, when real fires were shot, shortly after I left the square. It's been ten years now. Words I would use in this context: disillusionment, nostalgia, loss. Never really admired Rabin, but in some strange way I liked him: he was rude, impatient, real. The years since have made me very critical about his policies, and about the Oslo process (a neo-liberal peace, a ne0liberal disaster). But at the time, it felt like regicide, like petricide. In London, the fireworks remind me how there's nothing nice or entertaining about the sound of expolsions.

4. Dirthole playing in Whitechappel, next door to where my liver was recently chopped. They kicked ass.