Sinister: 141, Snow in Soho and Jarvis' philosophy

[Stanley,L (ug)]

A word about 141:

In the UK (I don't know if they have such things in the US) you can call
1471 if you hear the phone and you somehow miss it, or if you get back and
wonder if anyone phoned you while you were out. A recorded message or
mechanised voice tells you what the number is and when they called, so that
you can phone them back.
Some people in the UK don't want people to know their phone number (for
whatever reason) so if people can just ring up the operator and find out who
called them last, naturally these shy people (don't laugh - my parents are
"ex-directory") have to have a function in order to conceal their phone
number. (It's also a magnet for burglars "casing the joint" - but that's
like saying you can't sell kitchen knives because someone might just stab
someone else with it rather than use it to cut up meat). So 141 (I haven't
figured out when you dial it) means that you can tell the operator that you
don't want your number to be recorded.

But I'm sure that's what you meant anyway.

As for Jarvis, sadly he has been ruined by success, and I'm not saying that
in an elitist kind of way. That's why I don't fancy him anymore. That said,
he's got every right to feel like that.... imagine if you got to make love
to your dream guy and imagine how you would feel if you had to do that every
single night - it would get so that you've got everything you wanted and
you'd got nothing left to look forward to. (Like the feeling I always get on
Boxing Day). It's the difference between having a dream and living it,
sometimes you want to get back to normal. So I don't hate him for being that
way, I just feel sorry for him. Also, Enoch Powell (yeah, I know, bastard,
but hear me out) said that "all political careers end in failure". Jarvis is
aware (unlike many other people) that he's got nowhere to go but down. I
suppose. But it's good that he's doing stuff for the TV and using his fame
to further his interest in art. 

As for here in London, because of the heat of the buildings and the river,
it snowed in Soho last night (don't ask me what I was doing in Soho, please,
it's too painful: I lost my wallet, keys, diary, everything; I was at a
private function at a comedy club and someone got as pissed as a newt and
wandered off with my handbag and I only noticed it had gone at the end of
the evening when all the lights came on), but by the time we came out of the
club at midnight most of it had melted and the stuff that hadn't was all on
top of cars and motorbikes. One poor soul left his motorbike out in
Lincoln's Inn overnight and he'll get a very cold rear end if he tries to
sit on it! It's probably snowing at home in Bedford right now, and I'm
missing it! We were in Moscow over New Year (a long story) and it was - can
you believe this? - not snowing. I mean, that's like the middle of the
greatest landmass on Earth, and it didn't f...ing snow!!

Anyway, gotta go (hey I just got post! cool, I don't have to go and do my
essay for another minute or so)

Louise l.stanley at lse.ac.uk


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