Centurions – Urban Dandy’s 100th Post

Our Hundredth Post – About Urban Dandy

Urban Dandy Truth

In the heart of the Urban Dandy is the fate and the conflict of the bohemian, to become preoccupied with the things he/she shuns – materialism and money. They must survive, after all. They mustn’t be a burden, they must contribute, they must identify and add to the chorus when injustice is uncovered.

Identifying with the downtrodden, the poor and the dandies, the human, those who won’t back down and those that capitulate under pressure. The Urban Dandy embraces the contrasts and colours that create a fully vibrant city-scape of peoples.

The eyes of the Urban Dandy look deep into the spectre of failure. The integrity of the work takes our energy, likes and hits, fame and fortune do not. It’s a slow-rise, an awakening, a connecting of voices: I hear you, you hear me…

The scope of the Urban Dandy is local and global. Big Ideas. Not anti-capitalist, or pro-socialist; not dogmatic, pro-truth. Art of word, authenticity, not glorifying poverty, glory in human beings, looking at context, our area. Not vacuous superficiality…Wholesome. You too, our ears, your thoughts. The truth you can say. Word is bond. Life in motion – Truth again.

The style of the Urban Dandy is irreverent, light, heavy…

The conversation of the Urban Dandy is theatre, art, food, spiritual practices, addiction, terrorism, refugees, interviews, spirited resistance, local businesses, local artists, local area, gentrification…

Urban Dandy is a safe refuge for words.

The Urban Dandy knows that today’s media adds as much pepper to a story as they can to gain a reaction, ultimately seeking readership. This is not us. We will go the long route and grow organically, rather than compromise our ethics. Words are important and the lips from which they departed deserve for those very words to be received exactly as they were intended.

If the Urban Dandy holds an opinion at all it will be clearly stated as our own and never merged with the words of a trusting interviewee/interlocutor. It’s possible to share an opinion but never a mouth. 

 

 The Truth of the Urban Dandy

My name is Truth

I have stood since times beginning

Outside the hearts of man

Waiting for the invitation

a few will let me in

I am searched for by the flawed, the weak, written about by the poor

For only in humility

Can I enter through your door

Yet I can free you from delusions, false hope and empty dreams

From the world’s chicanery

All its crazy schemes

I am the small voice in the wilderness

A whisper in the breeze

be still, quiet, listen

For with me comes liberty…

 

 

Poem by Mark Bolton

Vinyl Café Opens on Portobello

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Venue: Vinyl Café, Portobello Road 

Interviewers: Tom Charles and Angel Lewis 

Interviewee: Jake Furey, owner

In this era of gentrification, Urban Dandy was cheered by a visit to Vinyl Café on Portobello, which has grown out of the owner’s hugely successful vinyl stall on Portobello market that also imports vinyl from all over the world. We thoroughly recommend a visit. Here’s why…

We arrive at 9:00 and are greeted with The Buena Vista Social Club playing in the background. The chef comes from the kitchen to turn down the music and agrees to replay ‘Candela’ for us. He and Tom agree they know each other from somewhere, somehow. Familiar faces. 

The business owner Jake arrives at 9.15, offers us drinks and, before we begin our questioning, Jake explains the importance of getting the right vibe with food and music.

Jake: ‘The Mouth is the gateway to the soul isn’t it? It’s all sensory, eyes, mouth, nose…

UDL: What was your intention in opening the café?

Jake: To make as much money as possible (laughs). I’m just kidding.

To create somewhere where people can come to eat good food, where they can feel relaxed. It’s a people place, they can turn up in their slippers and hang out, they can bring their kids. I just wanted to create something cool. I want it to be genuine, authentic and to add something to the area. We source 95% of our food from the market. 

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UDL: Where does the music come in? Is it your first love?

Jake: (Instantly) No! Family is, always. I have three girls and a wife. They’re my first love, music next. I was an artist, I was flown out to LA for two months to record. Craig Kallman from Atlantic records heard my voice and said he needed to take a meeting with me. I was supposed to go back to LA but my first child was born so, you know, a child needs a father. You know how the music business goes, one day you’re in demand, the next you’re not. I love my kids, even though they drive me insane (laughing). My middle one is a great actress…

UDL: What did you do in music? Sing? Rap?

Jake: I sang and wrote, like Soulful Pop. If I had time again I’d do it completely differently. Rather than let the business manipulate you, you have to manipulate the business.

How is business at Vinyl Café so far?

Jake: We’re doing okay, it’s not even six months yet and we’re okay. I have a Canadian business partner also; Alison King. There are six people working on the food and one person on the vinyl. You need people to know how to sell it. People know me, actually I heard someone shouting “Jake, Jake” the other day and it was Brian Eno. He was like ‘Jake where you been?’ I was at the café. Brian is a down to earth guy, he’s a positive influence for people in Portobello Road, he’s one of us.

UDL: This spot was a French Bakery right, but not for long. What did they do wrong?

Jake: They knocked everyone and he didn’t run it professionally. Well who’s to say I’m running this professionally? Time will tell. I have the next three months planned out and it’s fine because I need the challenge. I’m running this and the stall too, to give the stall up in the week would be tough because that’s my bread and butter.

UDL: What about the gentrification in the area?

Jake: Some of it’s good, some of it’s bad. There seems to be a disparity in the area…no there doesn’t seem to be a disparity, there is a disparity. You either have an ASBO or you’re middle class. If you look at what’s classed as working class now, it’s actually a social underclass. Unless you’re a millionaire, you can’t afford to buy in this area any more.

UDL: How does this affect your business plan?

Jake: I don’t really have a business plan. Word of mouth is the way because I can talk but I can’t see this space from your eyes and I try to listen as much as I can. Even if they say something negative I try to take the positive. Right now I’m playing around with changing a few things. I’m thinking about the next round of funding.

Some ten workers walk into the shop and fill the bigger table next to us. Jake starts talking to them, he tells them to make themselves comfortable. One of the men says  ‘as long as you have red wine’. Jake responds ‘We have red and white and a lovely Cava’ and they continue in this fast witted style in a few more exchanges in which Jake is totally at ease.

Jake: You see, interaction. You have to interact, this is what I do. When you have a brain and a mouth you can talk to anyone.

UDL: Tell us about your staff

Jake: I’ve hired a small team who love what they’re doing. The kitchen is vital. I’ve gone through six chefs in 16 weeks in order to put together the right team.

UDL: Six!!?

Jake: I’m not an ego maniac. I’m not Chairman Mao, but there’s an output expected. The team I’ve got now, they’re foodies, they’re happy to be in the kitchen, they’re not just doing ‘a job’. With food and with music, you can do it for love or for money, there’s a difference. Now, if you can combine love and money…

UDL: Tell us more about how you see this place

Jake: Life experience has brought us to where we are now, and that’s reflected. We don’t want to be Google, or some other massive company. But if we can last the first 12 to 18 months, and have a good product, then familiarity will breed comfort. It can also breed contempt (laughing) so I have to ask myself what I can do to create something even more comfortable and more profitable?

One of the group of men asks Jake about a rare Beech Boys box set for sale. The item is one of a run of only 5000 made. Another of the party declares his love for acid jazz, of which Jake is knowledgeable. As the conversation fades, a Miles Davis Jazz tune fills the Vinyl Café. Classy music for a charismatic café. Great food, too, and competitive prices. Well worth a regular visit.

 

http://brtrecords.tumblr.com/ 

@IAM_angellewis

@tomhcharles

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The Wisdom of Truth.

What is Truth?

I’d like to think that our expression on UDL (I love UDL) is often in the spirit of truth that compels the uttering of facts regardless of the consequences. As you may know, the job of a scribe is just that; Similar to a court reporter, to witness, record and express just what it ‘IS’ without alteration regardless of the influence of the surroundings, even at a time when most can’t and won’t see beyond their fear and contribute emotionally in hope of thwarting the consequences of REALITY. To do this work is a gift that  the inner relief felt is a reward worth every ounce of pain endured. At times though, I well wish I didn’t have what I call mild tourette’s syndrome.  It’s like a shield for the murderers of truth and their shortsighted ways. Some even liken the truth to a two edged sword but often the casualties of its wrath invested in the injustice of their scheme while covering their eyes, acting as though that awful  day would never arrive.

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Because of its damaging affect on lies you can see why there are sayings like; ‘You can’t handle the truth, The truth will set you free’ and ‘The truth is bitter to taste but sweet to swallow’.

The foundation of truth is firm and unbreakable, whereas lies are on shaky and temporary ground. Some scriptures use beautiful metaphors using other species, animals, and states of being even though  the point is most often missed. Take for instance the condition of a spider making a home out of its web, it is only a matter of time until it is fractured or destroyed, having to start over, again and again. But more importantly few consider the stresses that the spider lives to endure, not knowing if the next disrupting vibration is an attack, potential food or just simply the wind. This parallels the fear of a deceptive scheme being penetrated  when living a lie. It takes little imagination to know that a spider can never really rest because at any moment there will be an unpredictable disturbance.  It and its abode may be gone in an instant or carried to a new location just because somebody got their face in their business. The spiders home is external and that is precisely the point. The self inflicted stresses that words from outside of the true self create on the traducer. Always on edge expecting an attack at any moment. Words such as  ‘rest assured’ do not exist in that un-reality. Such a weak foundation is without a centre or any true support, merely existing in a 3 dimensional delusion that holds as a temporary space time moment, marking only a half relevant event in time similar to a tattoo.

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If I were religious at all I would strongly suggest Tehuti of Kemet, more widely known as Hermes or Thoth of Egypt, to be UDL’s patron saint and every organisation for that matter. The god is known to record whether or not a feather will outweigh the heart of the object passing from life to death, in order for it to become a contributing part of the cosmic family from its organic state, onto the ethereal and back again.

Most living organisms adhere to such because, in innocence their language remains pure, straightforward and static. Yet humans…oh humans…some are most comfortable with performing word acrobatics, not for entertainment purposes but, to twist pure words and change the nature of actuality with verisimilitude.

tehuti weighing

If it’s not poetic it is a lie.

Yet truth is not a word for an over-active ego that would use the sanctity of the audible symbols or ‘ spell-ing’ to conquer and defend a point without care or concern for our shared cosmic justice. No, truth is for the wise and the mindful. One may see truth as more of a preservation of the soul or a star gate rather than a way to wax the ego, knowing that beyond the exoteric eye there is the unseen eye that becomes manifest as judge, not at the beginning of the issue but at the end or transformation, just as it is portrayed in the Book of The Dead.

The idea of a subjective truth is more western dribble, a breeding ground for lies, transforming the heart to impedimenta sinking the Soul to a base 3dimensional return, where the gift of words are no longer there to use giving meaning to the statement ‘lost for words’.  You can just imagine a gazelle observing two human mouths chattering away staring puzzled with a feeling of familiarity. He reminisces, having this cosmic déjá vu moment, before being gorged by a local predator that also speaks a foreign language where each sound means only one thing, death! For the poor animal it would take multiple life cycles to understand the subtleties of our verbal communication which may well have been the preserver of its life, but we, having the privilege of this communication, this gift of sound we choose to abuse it. Yet within all of this thankfully some do see a gift, the gift of a psychological bridge to reach all amongst the other animals. If the Jungle community could intellectualise with their peers maybe they may see a reduced rate of mortality over time for being able to vebalise and rationalise each creatures basic needs, emotional direction and concerns in the most intricate detail. Yet here this man with all of this ability and potential stands disconnected and abusive towards the beautiful gift of word communication and uses all this as a weapon for his egotistical needs.

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My deep love for music and poetry stems from experiencing this pure expression of truth, we are like Poeticians, standing by what we have felt. In historical religious doctrine you will find subtle allusions to the poets and artists of old. Clearly we were despised for speaking the unadulterated language of the heavens; Metaphor. The realm where there is no debate, it just is and it is known by it’s consistent, resounding results in all colours, platforms and dimensions. Though this does contradict mans philosophies, mans opinions and their academic collections that are really nothing but recycled shrapnel from the purity of dead poets messages regurgitated.  And so the poets were demonised and faced with change the message, be silent or die. So here we are some silent, some transformed and some dead. Even at a time of desperation and gross, terrific, political turmoil words of truth are still for sale. But the voice will return only when elevated thought can rise up to the top floor beyond interruption from  the selfish ego and it’s continuous pressing to join the party on the journey up, and so return to earth with unadulterated sound vibration.

Maybe there’s a Karmic link that justifies Maat’s weighing of the heart with Tehuti  taking acount , maybe (I say with full knowledge) the incarnate is received through the justice of its own past actions in respect of living truth. It could be that there is a pecking order based on this honesty and we lose what we have abused. Maybe its all random and conflicting like earth beliefs and there is no cosmic pattern?

Here is an interesting and passionate challenge that happened last year. Richard Boyd Barrett a TD (Teachta Dála) for the Dún Laoghai Irish parliament has (what appears to me) an inward experience and incredibly releases about 60 years of history in just about 6 minutes of poetry, brandishing the truth and putting everything on the line.

I warn you, some may want to cover their ears and effectively continue this warping of the unrestrained heavenly chords but one way or another the impact of truth being aired regardless of the consequences lightens your load.

By Angel Lewis Twitter @Iam_Angellewis

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Could have, should have, didn’t. UPDATE

It’s almost a year since this touching article spewed out of me. I don’t mean to offend when I say it almost takes another artist to understand what it means to have to exorcise that thing that’s running around inside your head. It’s like an emotional release that can almost claim to be the main reason you resumed sleeping deeply again.

Still there were lingering thoughts regarding why the sad event happened. Even among the community that suffered the losses, there were questions, hunches, blame and rumours. The painful  story was expressed already and as the flowers have dried and the caskets have been filled and buried it makes no sense for me to personally revisit the event in any detail, so here’s how The Guardian puts our questions to rest.

Photograph: Reuters
Press Association Tuesday 20 October 2015 12.51 BST

Shelley Christopher denies two counts of murder and one of attempted murder by reason of insanity.

A woman killed her partner and their four-year-old daughter to prevent the world being taken over by vampires, a court has heard.

Shelley Christopher, 36, was mentally ill when she stabbed 42-year-old Richard Brown 29 times and her daughter Sophia six times before inserting wooden objects into their bodies.

Christopher also attacked another child and put a pencil in her body, but despite her injuries, the girl survived, prosecutor Crispin Aylett QC told jurors. She cannot be identified.

Christopher, of Notting Hill in west London, went to a mental health unit in north Kensington in February, two days before the killings, and told staff that someone was out to get her. She refused pleas to stay at the unit and went home.

She is on trial at the Old Bailey on two counts of murder and one of attempted murder, which she denies by reason of insanity.

Opening the trial, Aylett told jurors: “I’m afraid that this is a distressing case which you will find both terrible and tragic. Ms Christopher was later to tell a psychiatrist that, on the day of the killings, she had received a signal instructing her to kill her family in order to prevent the world from being taken over by vampires.

“The signal had come from a lightbulb in the ceiling. She had done – or tried to do – what she was told. After she had attacked each of them with a knife, the lightbulb had told her to put something wooden into each of their chests in order to stop them from becoming vampires.

“That Ms Christopher must have been mentally unwell at this time is borne out by the findings of the doctors who examined the victims. From Richard’s chest cavity, the pathologist recovered part of a child’s paint brush. The pathologist who examined Sophia’s body retrieved part of a pencil.”
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A psychiatrist concluded that Christopher, who is now in a secure hospital, had been suffering from a psychotic illness, most likely paranoid schizophrenia, at the time.

Aylett told jurors that when a defendant enters a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity, it was for them, not a judge or psychiatrist, to decide the case on the evidence.

Police found the bodies of Brown and Sophia when they went to the family home on 27 February, days after the killings.

They discovered Brown in the bath and Sophia in bed with a towel over her face, the court heard. Her chest had been covered with coloured plasters and a plastic flower was placed in her right hand.

Social services alerted officers after Christopher attended St Mary’s hospital with the injured child the day before. When doctors operated, they removed a 6.5cm-long broken pencil from the child’s chest.

After her arrest, Christopher told a psychiatrist the colours red, orange and green had become significant to her, with red meaning that she or someone in her family was going to be killed.

She said she had left the mental health unit at St Charles hospital before her assessment was complete because she thought there were vampires there.

On 19 February, she said she had received an orange signal instructing her to kill in order to prevent the world being taken over by vampires. First, she attacked the surviving child, by strangling and then stabbing her with a plastic flower and a small knife.

When Brown arrived with Sophia and asked what was going on, Christopher said: “You’re one of them. You’re a vampire.” She then stabbed him repeatedly in the chest.

She told the psychiatrist that Brown’s eyes had changed colour and he had tried to bite her with his fangs. According to her account, Sophia cried out “no mummy!” and when Christopher asked her if she was “one of them”, the girl replied “yes, I am mummy,” so she stabbed her too.

Aylett told jurors that if they agreed with the assessment, Christopher would receive a hospital order and return to the secure unit where she would remain “for some considerable time to come”.

The case continues.

Article from The Guardian 20th October 2015

Stand 52

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Urban Dandy would like to bring to your attention the loss of a beloved community member. Stand 52 is not really what you would have in mind when asking for a half a pound a grapes but if you are from the area you would have used stand 52 many times.

Tommy from stand 52 Portobello Market, for some is Portobello Market, having supplied us with fresh fruit and veg for years. I can say from experience that he was one of the faces that you got used to seeing every morning on the corner of Portobello Road and Blenheim Crescent, arranging that lovely coloured nutrition in delicious order offering to quench your thirst and satisfy your body’s need for vitamins and minerals.

It’s interesting that with all the supermarkets popping up here there and everywhere, the question of local loyalty is underlined. I must admit within my own experience there is some guilt as I have a very specialized diet for health reasons, but that said I do what I can where I can and would only hope that most like myself will be also sad to see the end of a Portobello market legend.

Here is a man that took only two weeks off work each year. This is a very rare form of dedication. As noble as this may be, sadly it took the dreaded cancer to force a year’s break from the market.

In a brief conversation with Maureen, Tommy’s wife, I learned that his dedication and commitment to us as customers went way beyond Portobello Market and into his own domestic environment as when the question of marriage occurred Tommy was reluctant to take time off on a Saturday, so we should all feel privileged standing in the way of their wedding vows.

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Portobello Market is made up of some tremendous locals just like Tommy who really tend to smile through everything they face including the decrease in turnover based on their goliath super-chain competitors, yet they continue.

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Even those who didn’t know you knew your presence, work and commitment. On behalf of the family, extended family and every other market trader we say Rest In Peace Tommy Kane.

Thank you

R.I.P. Tommy

Whose child are you anyway?

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Ethan Minnock

Take a look in this child’s face. Look deeper. What Mother would want to give him up? Not Rebecca Minnock anyway.

After the court ruled custody in favour of Ethan Minnock’s father, Rebecca Minnock did what any sane Mother with a supernal relationship with her child would do; Run.

What? Well rather than question my odd angle on this, the question should really be– what would it take to find the courage, or to some the stupidity, to take ‘your’ own child into ‘your’ own hands? That defining  moment could only have been a moment of connection, as it is hard for me to believe that somebody who didn’t feel capable of raising their child would risk everything by running away for just a short chance to be with them. Maybe the consequences weren’t weighed up, even more to the credit of a Mother’s Hyperarousal.

One thing is for sure, several decades ago this would have been a most natural response. Has society really become so caught up in modern legislation, in the guise of law, that they can no longer appreciate what it is to be a human attached to their seed? For me, the balancing outlook comes from simply observing nature. I have seen animals, less bothered with politics and court cases, murder or even throw themselves in harms way when much more preponderant animals come within a few dozen metres of their progeny. So what’s the big deal? It’s natural.

I would like to think every Woman would at least consider this just so I know that they haven’t totally lost their power to those men with hammers in witches outfits. You could maybe see Rebecca Minnock like a Rosa Parks or a Harriet Tubman. There’s something powerful about when women become restive, it feels veracious and begins just where a male’s manhood ends.

Maybe the whole event asks a question that nobody wants to ask. I say this because at the core of it there is something innate within the soul that knows its own property, whether it’s the actual body or the body it created, even though most are afraid to act on it.

But then again as always there is another side. Less than six months ago a woman on my own street murdered her husband and child in a vicious knife attack. With such a large number of people with failing mental health within domestic environments, largely spurred through undiagnosed post-natal depression that can last more than just a few years, what can you do to protect the child and who’s business is it?

Rosa Parks
Rosa Parks

In 1666, just after the great fire of London, The Ceste Que Vie Act was signed and went into action immediately. The gist of it states that, by Maritime law standards, any individual born after the said date would be considered lost at sea unless within a seven year period after berth they would come forth and state otherwise. Strange as it seems it appears to me that what is being stated here is that all men born are considered by the courts ‘dead’ unless they prove that they are not.

Well what rights can a dead man have? I’m sure all things that would be considered property would be held in trust by the state, No? If I sound crazy by translating my own thoughts on the act, which by the way, didn’t take too much thought on my part, then see what you make of it. After all it is not a belief but something enacted into your legislation.

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All that aside, there are many, many, opinions on whether or not the law is the law of the land or the law of the sea based on the Union Jack being a flag of the high seas and ra ta ta….However, whatever your position, the fact remains that decisions that only Mothers can make in sound mental health regarding their sentient child, are being made in a cold, clinical, lifeless, male milieu.

This seems quite absent of the very female spark that initiated the offspring and all offspring for that matter. One shouldn’t have to take the form of a woman to know her role and connection to decisions of nurture unless, in a Shakespearean prophetic manner, one is born of a glass tube. In this case the microchimeric cell attachment they share may well be severed but anything short of this proves that the creator and the creation remain together for eternity according to recent neuroscience discoveries.

A 'Lancashire lassie' being escorted through the palace yard, Westminster Palace, London, 20th March 1907. A young woman is reluctantly escorted by two policeman who are holding her by the arms. The woman is still protesting as she is led away. The last line of the verse at the bottom says 'For Women's Rights anything we will dare; Palace Yard, take me there!' (Photo by Museum of London/Heritage Images/Getty Images)

Rebecca Minnock said ‘No’, whether it was a sane ‘No’ or a psychotic ‘No’ is the question here; but the larger question to all Mothers should be where does the state get the right and is it really a right or an antiquated legislation created, not for the health of the community but the capture of booty? This would then make it no less than a raping of the soul.

But I will leave the burden of deciding with you dear Mothers and whatever you decide I will only agree because I am just a mere man, the creation of a woman.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pMNzFow40I

For Emily Davidson & Mum.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVPTXmesMpo

Angel Lewis