Not quite as it seems

The most horrendous aspect of working in Limehouse is changing from the DLR to the Northern Line at Bank Station during the rush hour. I read, today in fact, that Bank is considered the most unpleasant of all tube stations. It's certainly rather badly conceived. Some of the platforms are miles away from each other and only accessible via a series of tunnels, spiral staircases and countless escalators. To make matters worse, many of the obvious routes and corridors are closed off for no apparent reason. It would be a catastrophic place to be if there were a fire. This evening, two LU staff members wearing orange puffer jackets were preventing passengers from standing on the platform in an apparently random 4 metre square area. "You can't stand here," they kept shouting. We obliged, of course, but I wondered if this was the best use of two staff members' time and expertise.

I'm back at DIN studios with Julian and we've now started the lengthy process of mixing the White City songs. 4 days left now, and counting...

Mixing is a rather dull process for a composer because there's a lot of technical stuff - equalising, rhythmic correction - which needs to be done before his opinion is needed again. I therefore spent much of the day sitting on the sofa where Bob had his seizure, staring out across a rain-swept Cable Street, wondering how different the view would have been 80 years ago when the infamous anti-fascist battle took place. I wondered how the recent events in Woolwich would play out; whether the country is surging towards the far right again. Muslims are, of course, the new Jews, and Cable Street, once the Jewish heartland of Great Britain, is now predominantly Muslim, so one can imagine similar barricades being built on the very same streets to prevent the EDL marching through the East End spreading their message of intolerance. "History never repeats itself. Man always does."

I see Centre Point Homeless Charity is running a campaign on the underground. A lad with sad eyes stares out of the poster; "you walked past Mark today," the words inform us: "Just 40p will help make sure you don't walk past him tomorrow." It's a good sentiment, of course. The only trouble is that Mark (pictured) is plainly a middle-class young actor, cynically chosen for his beautiful deep brown eyes, and ability to stare into the lens of a camera with a look which implies vulnerability both emotionally and sexually. 

It annoys me. I would be far more likely to donate to a charity who published the image of a genuine homeless lad, than one who would choose a lad for his look. Maybe I'm being unkind. Perhaps it would be morally questionable to show the image of an actual homeless person; or perhaps the majority of Londoners will think "blimey, homeless lads are FIT, I'm gonna give loads of money to Centre Point so that Mark can go on the X Factor and get proper famous!" Maybe these same people think the impossibly glamorous ladies on the wee-wee pad commercials actual pee when they sneeze, and that X Factor contestants have walked straight off the streets to be seen by an un-briefed panel of judges. 

We live in a world where nothing is quite as it seems...