I haven’t been wearing my Unknown Pleasures t-shirt-of-truth recently since I noticed that it was making the white streaks in my hair particularly visible. So Saturday I went to the hairdresser and fixed the problem (thanks Vittorio), but then it got cold over the weekend, too cold for t-shirts, and the Joy Division Experiment is only about a metaphorical big chill after all. After that the only places I’ve gone to have been the office, where I have already ascertained that no one can recognize the t-shirt-of-truth, and the ring road, where no one can see your t-shirt anyway, just like in space no one can hear you scream, so wearing it would have been a complete waste of cotton-fibre. Maybe I’ll wear it tomorrow driving to Milan, to answer the question do people who know the Joy Division ever stop at motorway service stations.
In the meanwhile, I’ve been offered this feel-good Cumberbatch thing (sorry, obsession) about the Stone Roses:
I went to Manchester university partly on an insane surge of nostalgia from when I discovered these mischievous mancs and their Madchester ways! God bless the Happy Mondays and Joy Divison and all the other Tony Wilson ‘Factory’ recorded bands.
I wonder if he ever walked the foot bridge, out of nostalgia.
No need to draw conclusions this time.