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08 Aug 2005: Castle In A Fallen Kingdom



A picture

Café Brera, Canary Wharf

I am standing on the DLR platform at Bank station, as the crowd coalesces behind me.

My head turns to the left and notices that there is no train entering just yet. My head returns to its default position, straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with any strangers. God forbid any sort of contact.

There, in front of me, is a giant advertisement for something.

Everywhere I go, I am bombarded with adverts. Television, newspapers, buses, trains, billboards, telephone booths... every step I take my brain is being forced to process useless information like this. My brain acts instinctively, paradoxically without thinking, wasting valuable mental energy, my own machine cycles on worthless adverts that peddle half-truths and exaggerations.

The images of every advert I absorb are filling up brain-space. The originators of this mental fluff should pay rent. For far too long we have put up with these scrounging brain squatters. Cash, cheque or credit card will be just fine, thank you.