Читать книгу Clear: A Transparent Novel - Nicola Barker - Страница 17

Now the way I’m seeing it, these certifiable anger-balls are standing way outside more than just one restrictive cordon. They’re outside Blaine’s world (that’s for sure), and almost (I said almost) outside the world of social acceptability (alongside the truant, the graffiti artist, the petty-criminal and the football hooligan). They live inside a tabloid feeding frenzy, where everything’s in bold and italics and capital letters –

FUUUUUCK! RUN, TONE. MATE! RUUUUN!!

They’re that tiny, violent, whistling and juddering release button on society’s pressure cooker. They’re serving a function. They’re expressing what Solomon might resignedly call ‘the Dionysian’. And they are plump with rage. They are bloated with self-righteousness. They stand tall and replete, in a world stuffed to its well-fed gills with jealousy and distrust and hatred and terror.

(Man, we’re living in the degenerate West – so where’s all this shit even coming from?)

The Haters are standing outside a fair few circles, in other words, and inside a lot of others…But you know what? You know what? Wherever the hell it is they’re currently situated, it seems pretty damn crowded in there.

So you’d better, uh…

Duck!

Wow.

Wow!

Damn good shot.