Yes comrades,the circus has come to town,or is it a gravy train? Either way tis election time, mainly local but also Eurodisney,er I mean European elections. So all local still successful businessmen/women are putting huge grinning, gurning pictures of themselves on every possible lampost, building, bridge and vantage point, like some kind of scary art instalation or macabre portrait gallery.They remind me of those old western 'Wanted, dead or alive' posters- except of course these people are NOT wanted ,in either condition.Surely these attrocious apparitions are all that is required to secure a vote? (Or maybe 'Vote for me I've fingers in pies ,I might give you a piece of the status quo, fuck the world ,forget change,vision ,a quest for better, we'll be alright jack just scratch my back,I'm on all these committees committed to ?) Now I don't know what your local politicos look like ,but around here they look like extras from ' Night of the living dead ' Bad enough that they are hanging from every crack and crevice of the town, but, apart from a few terrified children in prams, most people can cope with the horror in daylit familiar surroundings. Nightime, however, is a different story altogether.I was driving in pure darkness outa here to somewhere else and all the faces were gurning at me left right and centre and in the familiar security of civilisation I could cope with that .But then I left the town and was following a lonely meandering riverside road and I was switched-off, mild and mellow, in the soporific zone of mileage accumulation. Man and machine in perfect harmony, slick gear shifts, gentle acceleration, mood music, leather trimmed steering wheel commanding 2 tonnes of ancient but lithe german metal.I'm in the twilight zone, the Irish Ayrton O'Senna of the backroads, 'Summer breeze ' by the Isley Brothers blasting from the Blaupunkt and blowin' through the Jasmine of my mind.I flick left then right through the S bends up to the hump backed bridge cresting a tarmac wave and thumping sparks from the twin exhausts, I'm almost airborne as the halogen headlights ,burning through the pitch black , spotlight three of the scariest looking fuckers God has ever created, terrifying and large lassoed high on an unsuspecting lampost, shock tactics hardly does them justice,if you wanted to kill or traumatise you couldn't plan a more effective ambush. I'm thinking Boris Karloff , Vincent Price,Freddie Kruger are handsome by comparison,I almost swallow my tongue in panic and terror and miss careering into the fast flowing waters by millimetres.
Someone will surely be found dead in an upside down car in the river before this election is out.