kick it over weh
Aged 12, it was something of a preemptive David Lynch moment. Pitched betwixt the holy and the unholy, I followed the train of \’students\’ as we marched leadenly down onto the stage to shake hands with that liver-spotted brigade. I might have even been grateful. My family did not possess a bible, seemingly, and I was curious to take it home and skip straight to the Book of Revelation. I had already swallowed my fill of that Old Testament shit at Sunday School as a wide-eyed sceptic in elasticated mittens, but I admit was curious. The elderly man who passed me my copy seemed vaguely haunted. His eyes appeared clouded and crystalline at one and the same time. Of course, I was expecting the faint waft of malt whisky but all I caught was breath mints.
At twelve years of age I could smell a rat.
I wondered if that Naugahyde bound volume had sufficient power to ward off vampyres. Or if a flotilla of vodka might strangle the stench of garlic. In hindsight, he probably ran straight as a dye. My memories are no doubt fallible.
In any case, I kept that Gideon\’s bible for years. I delved into it late at night, an unlit cigarette clamped between my teeth, and I often wondered what might prompt one to engage with that society. To my uneducated mind they seemed every bit as esoteric or stained as the Rosicrucians.
Freemasons and geometric trinities. Straight lines from \’a\’ to \’b\’. There are no f@ckin\’ straight edges in nature.
Here is the Westway version of the Willi Williams classic
alluded to previously. The ghost of Far I hovers.
▼ THE CLASH: JUSTICE TONIGHT / KICK IT OVER from \”London Calling\” Maxi 12\” (CBS) 1979 (UK)