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The Stuff Of Nightmares

Mine. No it ‘s mine now.


So Robert Mugabe gets stripped of his knighthood and it is given to Salman Rushdie instead – cue the resurgence of the fatwa that everyone forgot about…goodness…spin and politics has come a long way – especially as the move seems to be rather conveniently coinciding with the Mandela concert celebration. Naomi – naaaaaaaoooow! You can’t come on stage – you can stay at the very back of the top tier because you’ve been bad and for god’s sake don’t wear that hat with my prison number on it again you cow. Amy – naaaaaaooooow! You can’t meet Mr Mandela as your lifestyle isn’t something we would like to align ourselves with thank you you wheezy young girl you. Well that put them in their place didn’t it? The stuff of nightmares.


The politics of fear. And real fear. Fear…..and tall buildings….that rotate…on different floors…at different times. Even looking at the rather crudely put together press promo film here makes me want to cry with utter fear. The London Eye is bad enough – I spent the top third section sitting on the middle bench having to look at my fingernail in macro detail in order to block out any peripheral vision until we were ‘over the hump’ as it were. Hideous. Anyway – back to the Dubai 79 independently revolving floors at any one time building – very clever and supposedly energy efficient which must be a good thing but by god – how scary is it? You won’t get me there – ever. I still get recurrent nightmares of driving over the West Gate bridge in Melbourne.

It is like a steep coil crossed with a rollercoaster. Try driving with vertigo – not funny. In fact, so un-funny I still dream about it but in my dream the road runs out but I always wake up on time. Funny that?

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