There was a local byelection in Hackney yesterday, necessary because one of the existing Labour councillors had been elected as mayor there earlier. And that election had been necessary because the existing mayor turned out to be shacking up with a convicted pedo. A bit of a mess already therefore, which makes it weirder that Hackney Labour decided to double down on the weird sex pest angle by putting forth a transphobe as candidate who compared trans women to actors doing blackface. When that surfaces, she got suspended, then unsuspended again just the day before the election. How that worked out? About as well as you could expect.
It shows once again how transphobia plays on the doorstep: badly. Ordinary voters just do not care for the sort of obsessive weirdo who likes ‘womanface’ memes. It’s the hight of Labour arrogance to think that they could stand this canidate when the Tories had as theirs a well respected ex-LibDem councillor with actual ties to the local community. And with Labour nationally also seemingly embracing transphobia, this may be a sign that the parliamentary elections next year may be a lot closer than they expect…
This is why I haven’t posted since November. Ever since the pandemic normalised working from home I have been thinking about moving back to my hometown. With my parents in their mid-seventies and especially my mother having had a couple of nasty accidents, I wanted to move nearer to my family, most of whom live in the same city. Early last year I decided to get serious about it and started looking for a house to buy. Several false starts later and I found one less than 500 metres away from my parents. Bought it, then had several months of doing all the boring bureaucratic stuff to get a mortgage and get all the various utilities up and running, not to mention arraigning a moving company to get all those books (over 150 boxes ultimately) here. Which left no time and little energy for posting once I could finally move in mid-Novemeber. Sorry.
I have been so very lucky with all this. The apartment I had bought with Sandra back in 2005 sold after literally a week of being listed on Funda, for more money than it cost to buy the house I got here. Originally the idea had been to move all my crap out into storage, renovate and repaint everything before selling it but that never came together and instead it was sold as is. Maybe I could’ve gotten a couple of thousand more for it, but what I got for it was already literally three times what I paid for it, so no point in being greedy.
It has all been stressful but I cannot complain. I now have a house I don’t see myself moving out of ever again, I’m close to where the family is and as a bonus, I can buy new books again without worrying about where to put them.
16bit Sensation: Another Layer gets the immediate appeal of Kanon eaxtly right. One bit of warning though: come for the uguu, stay for the heartwrenching grief.
Have an already nostalgic trip through the Amsterdam Noord of roughly a decade ago when its hipsterfication was just getting into full swing. Soundtrack by Harry Slinger and friends, one of Amsterdam Noord’s more famous sons.
In 2003 II was still living in student accommodation in Amstelveen, just over the border of Amsterdam. A very nice, cheap flat but too small for two people and when Sandra decided she wanted to move out of England to come live with me, the hunt was on for a bigger, cheap apartment we could rent. What ended up happening was that we semi-legally rented the living space attached to the office of a local political party that shall remain anonymous. This was not sustainable, especially after said party moved their offices into the centre of Amsterdam, away from Noord. Renting a new flat was impossible, so instead we ended up buying the cheapest house we could afford on my shitty salary back then. In 2005 therefore we moved from the west side of Amsterdam Noord, over the canal to the east side, to the Vogelbuurt, just off the Meeuwenlaan.
The new house was ex-social housing, built just after the First World War, intended as housing for the workers of the factories had been established there not long before. When we bought the house, many of these factories and workspaces were still there, just across the road from us. Amsterdam Noord, across the IJ away from the rest of the city, was seen as both not quite Amsterdam and one of its worst parts. Lots of cheap housing, not that much to do and for anything really interesting you have to take the ferry into the city proper. The people living there were a mixture of proper Amsterdammers who had been born and been living there ever since, various generations of migrants looking for cheap housing (and sometimes unofficially banned from other parts of the city) and people like us, only able to afford the housing there even if it wasn’t our first choice.
Eighteen years later and what was once industrial wasteland is now a hipster paradise. There are three different microbrew brewpubs in crawling distance of our house, house prices have literally tripled since we bought ours and Noord is hot. The old Noord is still there, but it is slowly being smothered under the influence of money and bourgeois tastes, gentrified.
I wish I could honestly say that this is the reason I’m moving out, but I’d be lying. The real reason is that having worked from home for the last three years and plan to continue doing so, my parents are not getting any younger and I could really do with a little bit more room in my house. All of which means I will be moving back to my birthplace in less than a month’s time, 500 metres from where my parents still live.
Today I set my signature to sell my house. The end of an era. Eighteen years I’ve lived here in Noord and I will miss it, but not enough to not move away.
Bill Watterson and John Kascht talk about their working process on The Mysteries, a genuine collaborative process in which nothing was planned and each decision was taken unanimously: “we didn’t know what we wanted but we knew what we didn’t want once we saw it“.
Nothing better than hearing two passionate people talking about how they worked together and managed to create something despite of or maybe because of the huge differences in their prefered way of working.
