Hear ye , hear ye, seekers after the cutting edge of Urban culture!
I’ve just bumped into a guy who works in my local gym. Last time I saw him he was bemoaning the fact that he didn’t finish work till late on a Friday, at eleven, in fact. Naturally being the sympathetic and good natured gent I am I asked him how his weekend went, how Friday night was etc. He moaned that going home he got stuck on a bus going up to Woolwich that had been mobbed by teens sodcasting away merrily and having an impromptu mini rave on the top deck. Not uncommon apparently on certain routes. How many? I asked. He claimed (pinches of salt at the ready) about fifty! And also claimed that they all sit around on buses all night, hopping from one to another (it’s free in London for under sixteens or something, isn’t it?) ring their mates up and try to meet up on particular routes. Apparently sometimes if there’s a group of teenagers waiting at a particular stop the driver just powers past and everyone on the top deck kicks off. It’s a nightmare apparently (I tried to conceal my glee) and apparently it’s called “Busblasting”. There is, bizarrely, only one reference on the internet to it, from about a year ago, here. No doubt it also goes by other names.*
Ever the committed social documentarian the Impostume intends to immerse himself in the shady world of hardcore south London busblast culture and return with a report as soon as he can. Along with a report on a bit of well-deserved Wyatting.
You don’t get that from Zadie Smith, izzit?
I’ve just bumped into a guy who works in my local gym. Last time I saw him he was bemoaning the fact that he didn’t finish work till late on a Friday, at eleven, in fact. Naturally being the sympathetic and good natured gent I am I asked him how his weekend went, how Friday night was etc. He moaned that going home he got stuck on a bus going up to Woolwich that had been mobbed by teens sodcasting away merrily and having an impromptu mini rave on the top deck. Not uncommon apparently on certain routes. How many? I asked. He claimed (pinches of salt at the ready) about fifty! And also claimed that they all sit around on buses all night, hopping from one to another (it’s free in London for under sixteens or something, isn’t it?) ring their mates up and try to meet up on particular routes. Apparently sometimes if there’s a group of teenagers waiting at a particular stop the driver just powers past and everyone on the top deck kicks off. It’s a nightmare apparently (I tried to conceal my glee) and apparently it’s called “Busblasting”. There is, bizarrely, only one reference on the internet to it, from about a year ago, here. No doubt it also goes by other names.*
Ever the committed social documentarian the Impostume intends to immerse himself in the shady world of hardcore south London busblast culture and return with a report as soon as he can. Along with a report on a bit of well-deserved Wyatting.
You don’t get that from Zadie Smith, izzit?
*bit more here
3 comments:
'bus-blasting'! that's brilliant!
(erm, I mean it's terrible and anti-social and interrupts the decent hard-working citizen's perusal of thelondonpaper.)
Actually, isn't this the less smug version of those people who turn up and dance at Liverpool St and what have you? Which is usually regarded as a) cute and eccentric and b) a reclaiming of social space. But, as I recall, they danced to music on their headphones. Pshaw...
yeah..flash mobs...twee bullshit....personally i'd be more interested if it was Flash Full Scale Rioting.. we shall have to hang around on some buses and catch them at it...
carl
personally i'd be more interested if it was Flash Full Scale Rioting
Likewise the so far excessively well-mannered "protests" of anon v. scientology, although I have hopes they'll raise their game as things turn nastier.
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