As a friend of mine told me after I’d told her that I hated Yellow by Coldplay: hate is a strong word. So I try not to use it lightly.
I hate graffiti.
Firstly, it’s one of those words that I have to check how to spell every time I want to use it (see also satellite, parallel, appoximate and Morissette).
Then I read this article in the Guardian, which tells us that police in Southampton, UK, are appealing for witnesses after a graffitist sprayed his/her tag on a horse. A horse. Not a brick wall shaped like a horse: a real horsey, sugarlumps, don’t-approach-from-behind, horse.
My oh my, who the hell would think that this was a clever thing to do?
Or be a bored enough teenager to do it?
Reading stuff like this makes my anger glands flare up, and I start having thoughts of being the Dictator of the World and putting all graffitists in jail.
Not all of them actually, just the taggers out there thinking, “Hmm, there’s a nice white wall that the owners of that building have spent a lot of money painting so that the neighbourhood looks a bit nicer, I think I’ll go and write my assumed, cretinous, graffiti name on it fifteen times in spidery writing with a fat marker. That’ll let my mum know that I don’t like her parenting skills.”
Oh, and Banksy, too, just cos he’s crap.