Get me an Aardvark, it’s time for breakfast

Wigan is something of a culinary desert. The town is famous for it’s “pieĀ eaters” and indeed pie shops are seemingly built on an exponential basis. It is little wonder that life expectancy in the town is so shocking. The pies themselves are nothing to write home about, a deadly mix of heart-burn inducing pastry and questionable meat.

Sat at my desk I developed a hunger pang. Occasionally I will decide to go without food, just to appreciate the feeling of hunger and I find that by and large the feeling goes. I am a little strange like that though, I like to experience things, such as the cold or the rain (both of which are in plentiful supply in Wigan), even a little pain, only sometimes though, I’m not Max Moseley.

I didn’t bring any food with me to work this morning and I felt the tickle of hunger, leading me to face the awful fact that I would have to buy something. We have no kitchen in our clinic and therefore opportunitiesĀ for cooking are severely limited.

I want to eat something new and exciting! How about a nice barbecued snake or Bat soup? A Gnu sandwich or toasted fungus with seabird eggs?

The Chinese eat anything that moves and plenty of things that don’t. I would be surprised to see escalator on the menu at some stage.

As it is, it will be some awful plop that will have to suffice today.


Anarchy in the theatre

Yesterday was something of a special day for Wigan theatre. It was a chance for the members of the society to spruce up the building, undertake odd jobs, clean up, polish the fixtures and generally make the place as lovely as possible for when the new season opens next week.

I spent 4 hours working in the back stage area, putting set boards away, tidying up floor space, sorting out the props cupboards etc etc.

It was tiring work and to be honest it felt like the best thing I’ve done for months!!

The thing about our theatre is that it is precisely that; Our theatre. The society owns the building, we fund the productions and props and we are all equal members. Of course there is a chair appointed but they can only hold the position for 2 years. It is in a sense a collective anarchy.

As a treat for our hard work we were given a pie (this is Wigan after all) and an egg custard. A strange mix no doubt and I suppose if one were to be harsh, then hardly fair reward. Especially given the fact that the chap serving them had the filthiest hands I’ve ever seen.

Fear and Loathing

I do enjoy watching riots on TV. Living in Wigan there are many disincentives to rioting. Firstly, the weather. It’s very damp here. Secondly, people are no longer fit enough to riot due to a diet of pies. Thirdly, it’s hard to get excited about looting a pound shop or Aldi.
I’ve found it somewhat annoying though to be unable to comment on the riots in the newspapers. I suppose that there is the legal element to it as essentially the riots are criminal acts.
I’m in two minds about the recent events. My cynical side thought straight away that these people just wanted to steal some new stuff. However there is part of me that wonders if this is somewhat inevitable. That if you create an underclass, that is illiterate and dependant on welfare then they will inevitably be excluded from mainstream society and won’t give a monkeys about looting and burning down buildings.