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Forgive me Mother, for I have Sinned

Sorry, sorry sorry. I know I shouldn't have, but I just didn't see any alternative. I have (oh Lordy, forgive me please) come to Starbucks for my Sunday morning latte. I know, I know, they don't pay any tax and are the Devil's Spawn. And they still use the term "beverage" as if it confers some sort of status on the user. But you see Taylor Street still isn't open on Sundays (what must we do to ensure this I wonder) so ... so ... so that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. The drinks are still second rate, though they have at least admitted that hot milk does not a latte make and are actually adding some coffee now.

A couple of other points from the weekend so far: bicycling ain't for the faint hearted. My buttocks feel as if they went to Catholic school after yesterday's ride along the Thames. And secondly, if this isn't the best restaurant in London on a consistent basis then I'd like to know what is.


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My trouble is

when I'm confronted with a request for headshots, say, I can't just stop there I have to start experimenting. I mean, you wouldn't put this on Spotlight or the IMDb now would you? Ah well, I wouldn't do it if I couldn't, if you see what I mean. Above is the ever-beautiful Claire-Monique Martin taken on Friday. Other photographs were procured.

Trump'ed on

You're probably sick of reading Niemöller's quote but here it is again - why not have another butcher's':

"First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out— 
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— 
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me."

(from The Holocaust Encyclopedia).

I've read it so many times throughout my life that when it appeared in my Facebook feed I'd roll my eyes and scroll past wondering why some unimaginative ass had bothered to post it yet again - didn't we all already know it off by bloody heart?

And now here I am, another unimaginative ass, posting it on the web and ensuring that both my readers are pissed off and bored. Only it does have a new urgency now doesn't it? I mean with The Orange One in power it becomes resonant again…

Waltercio Caldas

Portrait taken at Cecilia Brunson Project, Bermondsey.

From Wikipedia:

Waltércio Caldas Júnior (born 6 November 1946), also known as Waltércio Caldas, is a Brazilian sculptor, designer, and graphic artist. Caldas is best known as part of Brazil's Neo-Concretism movement as well as for his eclectic choices in materials.