Monday 13 September 2010

This old house..

It has oft been said that a house regresses back to the nature from whence it has come, almost as soon as it has been built. I can believe it. This could account for the phenomenon whereby a deserted or vacant house falls quickly into disrepair. Yet, it goes against all logic when you think about it. Most other non-consumable goods gain from preservation rather than use; just think of cars, fine clothing and footwear, glass and china – the reason why the ‘antique’ of these are valued so highly. Vintage electricals are mostly useless, apart from their totemic value. Paradoxically, houses actually gain in price as functionality diminishes.
But what can account for the link between said functionality and the level of occupier involvement? Occupiers most often have a vested interest in keeping a house in good repair. There is no substitute for human vigilance in spotting cracked walls and leaking roofs, in keeping rimes of dirt off of window panes and paying attention to outside walls. A constant occupier will warm the house in winter, thus preventing mildew and other, creeping growths. In warmer weather, the occupier checks the presence of bugs and insects, rodents and nesting birds. The more preternatural among you will say that an empty house does not feel loved. It is no secret that a house becomes like its owner. A stroll down any street will reveal the mindset of a domestic occupier; fussy and pedantic or laid-back and hippy, with the millions of shades in between.
In short, many people identify with their homes to the point where their house is an extension of their own physique.
The anthropomorphic debunking of the dwelling façade – windows as eyes, door as mouth, etc – has long been in place. Most of us, to some extent, regard an attack upon the home as an attack upon the person, but a sizeable minority push the allegory a little too far. In the days when children actually played outside, every child knew of at least one occupier who would not, absolutely not hand back any ball or plaything that landed, however inadvertently, on their home territory. One point of contact with said concrete or grass, and the occupier regarded the object as their own. How we vainly cried and protested.
On becoming an occupier, I can understand the mentality of certain of these freaks – while not agreeing with their methods, of course. After all, you can protect your body as best you can, like your home, yet it will always be subject to outside forces. At the end of the day, I still feel there is more, much more, to this house/occupier thing. Can anyone enlighten me, please?

Wednesday 8 September 2010

Let there be light...

Just now, Britain is remembering the Blitz, it being exactly seventy years since Luftwaffe bombs rained down on this island. The events sparked off another way of life. People became au fait with bomb shelters – Londoners translate as Underground – and going to work in damaged buildings that managed to stay ‘open for business’. A night of uninterrupted sleep became an aspiration rather than a matter of course and an entire generation grew up having been, or having played host to, evacuee children. Our inconveniences today don’t even compare with the sufferings of those times but it seems Britain is headed for a new type of blackout.
In order to save money, local councils are cutting down on street lighting, possibly shutting off one in five streetlights, and saving hundreds of thousands of pounds annually in the process. Great, but who will it leave in the dark, and when? Householders fear security risks if their street goes too dark and in rural areas where streetlights are already few and far between, pedestrians already run a higher risk from traffic after dark.
My concern is that yes, we do need to turn down the lights but it must be done equitably, in appropriate areas and for the right reasons. Light pollution is already a buzz phrase in many urban areas, since bright lighting in town centres cancel out the glorious, celestial overhead display. These are possible targets for the borough councils’ light brigade. A spokesman for the Institution of Lighting Engineers has said it is perfectly possible to save on lighting by dimming street lighting when it is least needed; i.e., at evening dusk and at first light in the morning. Good thinking, and such changes will have to be carefully orchestrated so that no-one loses out. What we do not want in a new era of light fascism, with lighting hours being conserved for the showier, ritzier parts of towns and villages, while the sink estates and more downbeat areas are left to moulder in darkness, becoming magnets for criminal and other, questionable activity. This would be especially ironic since it is most likely lack of resources that makes them ‘no-go’ places in the first instance. At the end of the day – and all through the night – we do not need light inequality to join the line-up of inequities that already plague our lives.