Hampsteadian dispossession

Over and over again one gets proof that indefectibly, there is only one requirement to become a brutal, radical Leftist, with more rage than heart: and that is to be an indecent millionaire. Back in the 70s, I was told, in places like Ibiza there was a growing Hippie style in fashion, you know, a living manifest of dispossession. But, alas! Many of them drove bikes, Harley-Davidson and all, and liked walking around jiggling the keys. I once heard my father saying "well, that's easy; that way, I can be one myself!". In fact, it is like all these youngsters today playing to survive, for example, backed up by the folks' credit card. That's easy! Dispossession... My ass!

I had heard before about the squatting movement in the UK, but I heard it was a sort of an agreement and, thus, legal to some extend. However, by reading the chronicle of Peter Dominiczak in the tonight's Evening Standard, I can see that it is not legal, although some legal gap must exist. Anyhow, listen to this: Jason Ruddick, a huge 22-year-old motherfucker, son of a prominent Latvian lawyer, came a year ago into Britain to live as a squatter. The last house he has occupied is a 4 million-pound mansion belonging to the Republic of Congo (!). And this is what he says about it: "This place isn't nice enough for me. I want somewhere posher, with a swimming pool if possible. I want a shower and hot water. But I want to stay in Hampstead. It's very nice area"..... (!).... How about that, my friends?! Very clever, the little creature. The house seems to be closed to a mansion belonging to one of Gaddafi's son, Saif (!).

I am struck in awe (!) I need a glass of water.

**

The gravitational center of the world seems to have rested today in Hampstead. Liz Taylor, 79, passed away. She was born in Hampstead. I don't know, I guess she turned herself into a grotesque sight; when you grow old, beauty, if you had it anytime, abandon you, that's all; all you can retain is your style, your insight, yourself, but the outside simply vanished. You will transform into a stuffed mummy if you refuse accepting this inexorably law of nature.

I watched last summer The Taming of the Shrew and had a very good time. She was, indeed, lovely and irresistible. The couple, perfect; the comedy, unbeatable.

                                      Photo: WeddingCardWordings.com

(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).