Back at the end of the nineties i was contacted by a local conman and self styled "modern primitive" who was about to start a fetish night called BOUND and GAGGED, it was being held at the electrowerks in Islington north London, he asked me to do the flyers with the proviso "do what you like"...so I did.
Four months into this venture and the promoter was presented with a handful of angry notes from a gaggle of unhappy middle class Goths demanding I be removed from art duties and replaced with the usual visual dark dogshit, scratchy angels, tombstones etc etc.
To the promoters credit he didnt capitulate and i carried on doing my thing puzzled but proud that I managed to put so many noses out of joint by doing nothing.
The point of this rant? Dont claim to be an outsider if your going to start sobbing into the pages of your copy of King Ink the moment someone comes along and takes something as epehemeral as a concept or ideal and unintentionally gives you back a reverant but dayglo version of it.
And remember if it all gets too much you can always go back to your parents country pile in the wilds of Gloucestershire for tea, sympathy and scones....and if that dont work then fuck you and the hoss you rode in on.
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