Outside the M25
I have a terrible confession to make. I live outside the M25. That’s worse than South of the River, that’s worse than Croydon, that’s worse than Hillingdon, I live North of the river but that doesn’t count because I live- Outside the M25.
And yet my world is magical, Ladies and Gentlemen. I came down on the London Midland Trains service, and hear three chimes. Bing Bing Bing. They say, Mind the gap, get out of the way, we’re closing the doors, but I hear the three great chords at the start of Prokofiev’s first piano concerto and then the next grand chords flood through my mind and I am in Heaven.
But it is not just London Midland Trains. When I hear a car horn blasted repeatedly, I hear the start of Belshazzar’s feast by William Walton (I knew his nephew) and then in my mind the male voice choir sing Thus Spake Isaiah and- I hear car horns and the squeal of brakes quite a lot, come to think of it.
So I walk along the Embankment, down by the River, and I see- not the Millennium Wheel- Millennium wheel, meh, so what- but thirty swans floating regally along the River. The River, that is, the River Nene, in other places called Nene. And a swan is flying overhead, its great wings going Whoosh Whoosh Whoosh and it comes in to land on the water- yes, it lands on the water- and it meets its mate and they caress each other’s necks, and it is beautiful and strange and I am in Heaven, ladies, and Gentlemen, I am in Heaven, my world is Magical.
So I walk in the park eating blackberries which are washed by the rain, not bathed all the time in car exhaust fumes and I see a dragonfly and it sees me and it looks at me. There it is, hovering, and then it shoots sideways and hovers again, still facing me. And I look at it, and its beautiful iridescent colour, and its wings moving too fast to see other than as a Blur and it is beautiful and wonderful and maybe yes I should get out more- cos I’d see more dragonflies
And my world which is Heaven which is Magical is full of poetry. Poetry floods through my mind as I walk in the park or by the River- the River Nene, ladies and gentlemen, there is more than one River, this one’s outside the M25- and poetry floods through my mind-
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller,
Not being a Photon-
I’m not a photon, I’m a Neutrino, I’m faster than a photon, travelling through rock sixteen nanoseconds faster- that’s a lot faster than light and light does not go through rock, and the scientists say did we get it wrong did we measure it properly let’s try again let’s try more to make sure we measured it right and I say No because I’m a Neutrino and I’m faster than light whatever you say and if you say you got it wrong and no, neutrinos are limited to lightspeed then I am an imaginary Neutrino and I am Still faster.
My world is magical, Ladies and Gentlemen, outside the M25.
My world is magical, ladies and gentlemen, because there are no rules. You look at someone for the first time and the first thing you notice is what sex they are. And if you can’t work it out you get worried. A two month old child looks at someone for the first time and the first thing he notices is what sex they are, and I am Both. I am male, I am female, I am Transsexual. I break this most fundamental rule and therefore there Are No Rules! Freedom! Magical!