“Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters' table.” Matthew15v27
My experience of Kings Cross was marked by two unexpected encounters, aptly two necessarily and inextricably constitutive of the development's totality. The first, a gate ajar to the Skip Garden. 'Are you open?'; 'No, but help yourself to a look around.' said she washing some tin plates under a plastic roof. And all around me at once, verdent emergence, a mellow, fruitful bricolage. 'Thankyou.' A wander further and security detail betray a happening of quite another kind. 'Have you registered?' 'No..' 'Would you like a canape?' Google's eyewear is being launched, a protoyped product, one of a billion identical devices primed to usher an age of augmented urbanity. 'Ok Glass' These two encounters could be comically or tragically contrasted, but more interesting, I think, is to consider the enterprise which absorbs these both and stands to profit by urbanism done well. This city quarter is taking shape inorganically, with stupendous capital ventured on its success - the chickens of such speculative development must be counted before they are hatched. All this simulated and subsidised cultural incubation, therefore, seeks pre-emptively to engender that intangible quality of place, that energetic buzz to a something willing itself to emerge: the city as a happening. Would that all urban spaces were so motivated, even cynically, to be present tense continuous and ecstatic.
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