Real England

never gonna fit you up
never gonna hose you down

never gonna tell a lie
in courtrooms

just read about Kingsnorth for the first time in the NY Times Mag. He seems authentically pessimistic and searching for the right way to remain true.

https://fbcdn-sphotos-f-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn2/t1.0-9/10267764_488892224544094_7572649055259280943_n.jpg

I can't tell if that's real or not.

Surely can't be? I mean "High Standards"? "Jubwise"? "Fucknose"?

I'm 99% sure it's real.

contrast to Real America

observation 1. no hamburgers in any of the pictures

General Waste

avinit.

Davina Pillai : Flyer looks sooo sick big ups this is gonna phat phatty!!
11 hours ago · 1

Michael Baptiste: Gheez
10 hours ago · 2

Jamil Shah if thera good lil cew of fam ill roll thru
18 April at 08:04

lineup written by a cookd and bombd poster imo

DJ MICHEAL BARRYMORE

course it's real

https://soundcloud.com/dmtsounds/dj-michael-barrymore-only

"Only Pools and Corpse's"

well done

I lold :/

Real Lolland

god i haven't listened to Venetian Snares for years

http://pbs.twimg.com/media/BmAH6piIMAAAruf.jpg

After nearly four decades, Donald Neilson, aka the Black Panther, seems in retrospect like some figment of the phantasmagoric north England of the 1970s, the gothic, occult north of David Peace and the Red Riding trilogy. His crimes – countless burglaries, three murders (of village postmasters), and the kidnapping of teenage heiress Lesley Whittle – took him on meticulously planned nocturnal peregrinations across the north and the Midlands against the unfolding background of the three-day week, the oil crisis, and the IRA's first sustained mainland bombing campaign. (Or, if you prefer, between the decline of glam-rock and the rise of punk.) The dead years, in other words, a leaden age.

Neilson's arrest in December 1975 came just two months after the apprehension of another largely forgotten apparition of the period, the Cambridge Rapist, Peter Cook, and shortly after the Yorkshire Ripper, Peter Sutcliffe, began in earnest his years-long reign of terror in the red light districts of Yorkshire and Lancashire with the murder of Wilma McCann in October 1975. Neilson's trial was overseen by Judge William Mars-Jones, who had earlier prosecuted the Moors Murderers and overseen the ABC official secrets case and compiled the report that engulfed the Met's Vice Squad in corruption trials – and who was himself the son of a village postmaster.

Neilson's trial took place during the sweltering heatwave of 1976, in a courtroom so subtropically torpid, even in October, that counsel were permitted to forego their customary wigs and gowns. Neilson was given five life sentences, with Mars-Jones stressing that, in his opinion, "life should mean life". And it did: when he died of complications from motor neurone disease in a Norwich prison hospital last year, his Black Panther nickname having long since been re-appropriated in folk-memory by Bobby Seale and Huey P Newton, it was as though some horrible, stinking odour of the dread 70s had been belched up by history's alimentary canal.

http://www.moviemail.com/images/large/The-Black-Panther-32394_1.jpg

http://legacymedia.localworld.co.uk/275796/Article/images/17382024/4336101.jpg

Director Ian Merrick – until then only a producer – had spent some years in New York before returning to England in 1976, just as Denis Healey was asking the IMF to bail out the nose-diving British economy. The British film industry was in no less parlous shape; these were dead years for domestic production, and most well-known directors were either exiled in Hollywood or internally exiled at the BBC. Merrick, as he says in the DVD liner notes, was transfixed by the innovative low-budget, small-crew film-making he had witnessed in New York and insisted this method could invigorate British film-making from below: it cost less, and you didn't have to deal with the rightwing British craft unions. His fellow directors thought he was barmy; we now can see that he was just too prescient, too early.

http://fullist.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/1798614_408901822584651_7094580079906505572_n.jpg)

http://fullist.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/1798614_408901822584651_7094580079906505572_n.jpg

The makers of Channel 4's Benefits Street are currently scouting out the area as a possible location for the next series.

Carol Harris, 68, who lives in Stockton, said: 'My dad's brother used to run that place. It was a respectable old pub, The White Heart.

'Selling beer that cheap will be bad for the town, it will attract the wrong crowd. It is all wrong.'

brb

things to do in newton abbot when you're dead...

and cbf'd to go to the maltings cos you've got a heavy bag.

answer: go to a terrible pub.

SOL
WKD
Smirnof Ice
2 for £5•00

only they've drawn a line joining the bowl of the five to its upright so I think it's supposed to be a six.

anyway, clearly an evening pub for the yowf of Newton Abbot, rather than a pub for traveling bourgeois wot lunch.

always hope for the platonic ideal of a market town pub - light, central, bustling, a view of the street or the market clock, perhaps with rooms available, fruit machines, tv with racing on etc. but although I think I'm basing it on *something* other than my pure imagination, I'm not sure I've ever found it as I can recall.

I was hoping the pint wd be disgusting so I cd moan about that and the ludicrously expensive cheese sandwich I ordered but actually it's quite nice.

Newnabut = Cider Bar afaik, or at least afai remember.

oh yes, I saw about that. thanks Tim. will seek out once I've finished very slowly drinking this pint. mustn't get fucked tho.

Jesus, cider drinkers. hectic cheeks, glazed eyes, gone in the head.

My people.

: )

thinking of getting into the Newton Abbot stock car racing nostalgia scene.

Not my people.

the smaller motorsports do have a lot of Real to them.

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gyY-yVTFmt4/TlAQ_Z5QOSI/AAAAAAAAMQM/V617esy9-v4/s1600/_54549460_guybody1.jpg

Guy Martin, real or simulacrum?

"PROPER" according to his website.

(woof otm: thinking also scrambling, lower league speedway, English cb and container driver culture etc)

Guy seems like a nexus of realisms: road-racing, tea-quaffing, side-burning it up

The road accident that started it all: "I crashed headlong into a car"

like a comic hero/villain origin story.

the next thing I knew I woke up as...

GUY MARTIN. tea drinking, lorry fixing nexus avatar of REAL ENGLAND.

I'm going to start pronouncing his name the French way, see how that goes down with my peeps

lol.

ah yes ghee martang, un parfit gentil cunt.

I never realised till wikiing just now that scrambling = motocross. I'd assumed I never heard about scrambling nowadays because it had precipitously declined in popularity & could only be found in small fen- and moor-bound communities.

railway tavern landlord in NA playing Soulja Boy v loudly on his windows xp music player.

derby county sporcle going on in the pub too.

heroic bump, this, kiu

haven't got much to add I'm afraid, other than the man next to me on the train is gorging himself on jelly babies and red stripe. I'm not exactly going to follow suit, but might go and get a kroney from the drinks and light refreshments carriage in a bit.

as a fellow friday afternoon drinker & soulja boy enthusiast I'm really feeling this update

god i miss crucial brew

okay, not that much

http://www.buzzfeed.com/patricksmith/the-most-british-headlines-of-the-modern-age

first couple i thought "tired rubbish" but there are some very Real gems in that lot