Friday 9th June 2000

Summer, my least favourite time of year.

I visit the Fig-1 gallery, to see its latest installation… Will Self. The frog-headed novelist is roped off like any other exhibit, and is seated at a desk with a laptop computer and an endless supply of cigarettes. As he types and creates a new story, a large screen on the adjoining wall displays his efforts. He wears wraparound shades, so one cannot stare him out, and attempts to speak to him are strictly forbidden. I sit and watch for a while, hoping he’ll “fictionalise” me as he has done most of the gallery’s visitors. After a while, he types, “…and I hate that phoney Warhol hunched on a bench.”

Hatred, it’s that lovable emotion we all share! Blind misanthropy, it’s the great leveller! Pick one of the new 21st Century stereotypes, sorry, tribes, and vent away! And in this sticky, thin-aired city, where the pollen count rises and the tolerance level plummets accordingly.

Pick one of my own bugbears on this stifling day:

1) People with henna tattoos. On their way to “Glarstonbree”, then a fortnight in Goa. The ones who have children purely so they can take them to festivals and get their faces painted.

2) People who ride their bikes on the pavement. At top speed. Yes, I know it’s dangerous and so inconvenient to cycle in the road in London, but I choose to walk on the pavement because I was just hoping not to get run down.

3) Skateboarders. Especially ageing skateboarders. With the worst clothes, the worst haircuts and the worst music. Call that a noble, athletic sport? Give me bare-knuckle boxing in a Somerset barn any day.

4) Street artists in Leicester Square. Ah, yes, just the thing I need: a badly-drawn sketch of Bob Marley. How did I get by before?

5) People with mobile phones that play a tune. And then let it ring out for a good minute or two before answering it. In the cinema.

6) Jester hats. England team football shirts. Ill-advised shorts. Bared pink English Bad Flesh. Never mind your mad dogs, Mr Coward…

7) The film people who won’t return our record label’s umpteen calls and faxes so we can clear a short sample of dialogue from “Liquid Sky” for Fosca’s little album. For those interested, it was going to be from the scene where Margaret is talking to her old college tutor on her roof, shortly before he has his cold and loveless way with her… “I’m nobody’s victim… It’s only fair I warn them this pussy has teeth.” (Hats off to Bloomsbury Publishing and the author JT Leroy, though, for kindly letting us use a quote from his novel, “Sarah”, on the sleeve).

So I take comfort in the only way I know how. By surfing to Ask Jesus, typing in a website of choice, say “http://www.nme.com” or “http://news.bbc.co.uk”, and reading the results…