John B Ledger

Randomly, probaby between two songs by The Cure:” High Just like Heaven

“There’s nowt new under the sun” Everything is always in a process (long or short-form) of morphogenesis. Even in repetitive movements. Our perception of repetition misses this because of the trauma capitalist acceleration inflicts on time itself: we constantly feel retrograded, fighting our way out of a mannequin museum dedicated to our own experiences. OR,Continue reading

I believe in it because I want to believe it is true. But so far, I have no evidence.

A human world where things actually work out well for the 99 percent.

“It’s a bit of a joke”: 20 years since 0oon Badger

The above title is a lyric from Pink Floyd’s iconic Syd Barrett-era ‘Pipers at the gates of Dawn’. It’s seemingly a throw-away rhyme to go with ‘cloak’. There again, don’t our ‘throw away’ moments of creativity sometimes turn out to be our most poetic, our must truthful? Barrett-era Floyd was short-lived. Yet in this oneContinue reading ““It’s a bit of a joke”: 20 years since 0oon Badger”

UK bank holiday and the 2026 council elections

One crucial lesson I learnt the hard way: you can’t ‘do’ politics when you’re at constant war with yourself. If you’re always criticising yourself, any dialectical opponent can easily perform character assasination on you with a well-timed verbal insult. (I recall a life-beaten Londoner looking at me with weary-yet-strong judgement as I tried to scaleContinue reading “UK bank holiday and the 2026 council elections”

Art/creative projects. But it’s not that simple. I can go for months, even longer lacking purpose and direction because I lack any ideas that have any sense of purpose and meaning. It’s how I define, and have defined myself: against a world in which I’ve never felt equipped for, or any good at, but awareContinue reading

Locked inside the Maddening House

There is no exit, but death. But up on the tops the notion at least remains; a breathing space necessary for the escape-desperate pathos to recognise itself. The possibility of a way out via peaceful parliamentary measures had its last chance in a hot June month of 2017 that momentarily melted perceived certainties as ifContinue reading “Locked inside the Maddening House”

1993. Perranporth, Cornwall

I always reflect on this holiday. I’ve reflected on it through the music of the time; the dreamy-quality to the pop music on Virgin Fm or whatever station it was. I’ve reflected on it through the incomparable movie ‘Jurrasic Park’ that set a new precedent for cinematic hedonia before we would be bogged down inContinue reading “1993. Perranporth, Cornwall”

Art, indefinitely. The 2020s.

(This is the final chapter from the publication ‘Straight A’s: Anxiety, Anorexia, Alcohol, Ageing, and Art’, made for an exhibition of the same name). I admit I’m still here; still trapped within the Straight A’s system of self-critical thoughts and go-to ‘remedies’, but I know I can’t physically upkeep these routines for much longer. IContinue reading “Art, indefinitely. The 2020s.”