JG Ballard is dead. Last time I was in London I spent a whole afternoon reading his autobiography in the Angel branch of Waterstones, after K told me that Empire of the Sun was loosely based on his own childhood. I enjoyed his observations of post-war England: drab, exhausted. While I was reading there was a sales assistant with lots of personality making herself known in that way where a person/we/you seem to occupy far more space, physically and sonically, than might be considered appropriate for a sales assistant at work, unless I have antiquated ideas of service that is. But I think she might have been behind the display of queer titles on the mezzanine that I thought was very good.

Sorry about the Empire link, the film is amazing, haven't read the book yet, I just don't mind a bit of tacky electro every now and then.