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THE THIRD OF THE THIRD
STEVE CLAYDON
Fri 2 April - Sun 24 April 2004

The third of the third. The
urbano gothic cargo cult. The time bandits and believers in a nut
shell. Little force feeders and those who ascribe ritual and make
things crystal nice. The exotic properties lavished on the other
then transfigured and dumped on the no no men and the ubiquitous
ballast of city. The penniless explorers who navigate those inverted
dark continents where empty offices ape with hubris the fecund polymorphism
of jungle Jim and caravans of clean me vans recreate
the meaningless meanderings of nineteenth century wanderlusters.
Those who would inject super-inference of spirit into
the voids that parallel fleet street cartoon half tone and the partition
walls of charity shop HQ PLC. Direct debit people. The useless individual.
The happy and pittyfull frequency of the hive. One million pence.
Lemon bloody cola. The third of the third.

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