| Princess
Diana's Paddle Puddle Kafuffle | Our
arts critic Brian Seaweed waxes lyrical again |  Good
morrow-morn! You join me as one sits, inconsolable, upon the warmly moist Hyde
Parkian grass;
face squidged in en-dampened paws;;eyes
weepily-carressing the dried out Diana Paddle Puddle, which has, once again, been
closed, and sits, sadly, all alone, behind a minimalist security fence. One's
well honed art eye is being challenged 
on so many levels here, by this almost, but not quite, sub-divinely, prescient,
metaphor that has materialised in the form of a fountain with no water in it.
Oh, how playful! Oh, how out of the ordinary! Oh, how Diana! For,
this is, once again, Diana's spirit whisked away from us, all of a sudden, by
causes extraordinaire
(do we know, per chance, if the injured tourists were drunk? The thought itself
is too painful to even... oh... too late.) And, now, all that remains is a ruddy
great piece of stone being tended by a lowly stone mason (Diana's people) employed
to etch veritable imperfections into the floor to stop clumsy tourist-tats from
falling upon their collective bottoms once more. How
much, gentle reader, one asks, upon top of the £3.6mn already devoured by
this monument, will these changes cost? Well, there was only one stone mason,
working in 6 hour shifts,
when I was there. So don't expect much change from a million quid guv. |
|
22
July |
