Friday, March 07, 2003

The ArchesTheatre (and Central Station) in Glasgow is built on top of the area once known as Grahamstown. By some odd psychogeographical coincidence this was the site of the first theatre in the city. I've heard that during the refurbishment of the Arches a portion of cobbled street was uncovered and quickly bricked up. Alledgedly this was in the interests of pest control, but I suspect that it was simply easier to do so.
Central Station itself is rumoured to have at least SEVEN levels. One of which was used to store the bodies of the men who died in WW1. Its said that you can still see the stretchers and other accoutrements to this day.
In my one attempt to get down there (illicit) I encountered blocked doors. (i.e. bricked up) The usual cries of 'insurance' are used to deflect the curious.
Union St, which runs parallel to the station apparently has a subterranean twin running directly below. Pristine 17th century shop fronts await our attention.
Close by is St Enoch Square, which was formerly a busy railway station. Again there are levels awaiting investigation below the existing subway station.
The persistent rumours of 'escape routes' leading from Glasgow City Chambers (sweating cooncillors running pell mell along dank passageways to escape the wrath of a disgruntled proletariat) to sites unknown, are unconfirmed.
Perhaps it is not beyond the bounds of reason to posit a vast multi-temporal, interconnected labyrinth under this city. The urge to burrow into the bowels of the world is not a new one.

Thursday, March 06, 2003

Facts are but the Play-things of lawyers, -- Tops and Hoops, forever a-spin.... Alas, the Historian may indulge no such idle Rotating. History is not Chronology, for that is left to lawyers, -- nor is Remembrance, for Remembrance belongs to the People. History can as little pretend to the Veracity of the one, as claim the Power of the other, -- her Practitioners, to survive, must soon learn the arts of the quidnunc, spy and Taproom Wit, -- that there may ever continue more than one life-line back into a Past we risk, each day, losing our forbears in forever, -- not a Chain of single Links, for one broken Link could lose us All, -- rather, a great disorderly Tangle of Lines, long and short, weak and strong, vanishing into the Mnemonick Deep, with only their Destination in common.
--Mason & Dixon, Chapter 35, pg. 349. ditto.

"Who claims Truth, Truth abandons. History is hir'd, or coerc'd, only in Interests that must ever prove base. She is too innocent, to be left within the reach of anyone in Power, -- who need but touch her, and all her Credit is in the instant vanish'd, as if it had never been. She needs rather to be tended lovingly and honorably by fabulists and counterfeiters, Ballad-Mongers and Cranks of ev'ry Radius, Masters of Disguise to provide her the Costume, Toilette, and Bearing, and Speech nimble enough to keep her beyond the Desires, or even the Curiosity, of Government."
--Mason & Dixon, Chapter 35, pg. 350. Thomas Pynchon.

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