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Danger: Void Behind Door

Writing by Matt Haynes

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London Prepares

Danger: Void Behind Door

The 2011 London riots: while Tottenham is in flames, Chipping Norton is in Oxfordshire.

A Riot Of Their Own

Danger: Void Behind Door

How I had my faith in human nature restored by the people of Sidcup and why toddlers and anarchists should neither be given Sunny Delight nor put in charge of the Northern Line.

The Scowl Beneath The Cowl

Danger: Void Behind Door

How I felt less badly about being mugged once the Daily Mail had explained that all the misunderstood urban yout’ really want is to be able to park sideways-on to the kerb.

Unsolicited Justin Bieber

Danger: Void Behind Door

A hairdressers in Greenwich reassures passers-by that their hair will only be cut if they request it.

These Weirdoes Are Weird

Danger: Void Behind Door

Why I won’t let you tell me what you think about what I think about David Mitchell.

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Sifted by Ilk

  • Fiction
  • Non-Fiction
  • London
  • South East London
  • London in 30 Words
  • Smoke A London Peculiar
  • Transport
  • Politics
  • Poems and Parodies

Again he thuds into Percy Ingle’s window; she sighs, scoops him up, tosses him back into Lewisham High Street, and tidies the London cheesecakes; tiny pigeon footsteps dent coconut strands.

Serendipity Doo-Dahs

Mr Chambers’ Coffee House

I try to get to the bottom of Blackheath but just end up having an overpriced (though very nice) muffin.

Danger: Void Behind Door

A brief rumination on the fickleness of both women and space-time, and the possibility that access to some sort of infinite primordial darkness can be gained from the southbound Bakerloo Line platform at Waterloo.

Tory Tourette’s

A night with Chris Addison causes me to wonder whether the world would truly be a better place if George Osborne got a job in Dixons.

These Weirdoes Are Weird

Why I won’t let you tell me what you think about what I think about David Mitchell.

Feminist Pelicans

Some thoughts on the sexual politics of pedestrian-controlled traffic lights and why Brussels fills me with horror.

Queue Here For Theresienstadt

A trip to Prague, and how the human soul has been replaced by a 64GB memory card.

Ceci n’est pas un Wheelie Bin

René Magritte’s time with LT’s maintenance department didn't last long, as his playful signage at Stratford station provoked not only much philosophical debate in the canteen, but also a major hygiene problem on the southbound Jubilee Line.

Boris Johnson versus Dean Cox

A melancholy reflection on whether baklavas, beer, aubergine rasavangy and an 82nd-minute equaliser at Brisbane Road can ever compensate for the existence of Boris Johnson.

And What’s With The Big Boat?

Is transpontine mating safe, or is the unholy union of a Bethnal Green girl and a Bermondsey boy likely to produce some sterile mule-like creature, useful only as a beast of burden or underworld goon?

For The Greater Good

A response to UKIP in not the only language its supporters don't understand: poetry.

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