Dan Taylor

  • Eel Pie

    KEW – TWICKENHAM “Where am I?“ and “Should I stop for a drink here?“ are the two recurring thoughts whenever I venture out somewhere in the wilds beyond London public transport. The thoughts recur again – a couple of lessons already learnt: if you’re hungry, you’re probably just thirsty (after 1000s of hours spent on…

  • Sex Popes

    In honour of Pope Ratzinger’s state visit to the UK, I want to celebrate with some of my favourite infallible representatives of the divine Godhead. It’s fitting that a third-world state like ourselves should fork out the estimate of up to £13.5 million for the blessing and grace of the Bishop of Rome. After all,…

  • Accelerationism

    “I turned to the wilderness really, not to Mr. Kurtz, who, I was ready to admit, was as good as buried. And for a moment it seemed to me as if I also was buried in a vast grave full of unspeakable secrets. I felt an intolerable weight oppressing my breast, the smell of the…

  • Death and re-death of Mithras, IV, etc.

    Help, someone. I hate everything that has ever been. I hate every single person, every creature either dead or dying. I hate myself above all. This is wrong. This is judgemental, which presupposes a natural value or heierarchy, but all I see around me are human automatons peopling a folk-puppet nightmare. They are diseased with…

  • Alcohol and arguments.

    It’s sometime in the morning, I don’t know. All I want is coffee. That’s it. But no ghastly milk or sugar, just super strong 4X espresso. We have little food – we’re trying to save cash as Sarah’s decided to do her PhD this year and I’ll be doing my MA. The problem is we…

  • The Pop Group reform – Garage 11/09/10

    Washed up, out of shape. Overweight Mark Stewart struggles to hold himself up tall, squats down and slurps a pint of cider, before standing again, drawing upon the lyric print-outs onto large font to recall the words to each poorly-rehearsed song from over 30 years ago. The ageing crowd shake their hands and arses and…

  • Late night mass

    Transmission: Tower of Babel, Bruegel the elder 1563.  Tower of Babel, Bedford and Yeats 1964. …suicidal young women clutching their faces in parks, by sleepless canals and rivers…pious Africans clutching gospels…city addicted to pleasure, mindlessly pursued, drunk, sniffed, consumed…the bleak street architecture of night, inky blue, hurting…rushing commuters are transmuted grey flesh, dead spirits, spectres…premier…