43.  On the way out from Victoria.

A few weeks ago, I think when I was first tentatively going out again, I mentioned an LCC block which I thought was being renovated, or “regenerated”.  At the time it looked empty, with some windows missing.  It turns out that I was wrong, and it is being demolished.  Most of the form is wrapped in plastic sheeting with a logo on it.  About a quarter has already been destroyed, reduced to heaps of formless material and large mechanical giants stand in readiness for the next attack.  It is a very quick process, just brute force mainly.  It looks like the mass is separated into heaps of raw matter, concrete lumps, metal, softer, gravel-like dust.  Demolition is everywhere at the moment.  Eventually more of the estate I live at will be destroyed.  I don’t want to be around to see it, but it now seems likely I will be.  I passed a house this morning with no roof, and the front wall dislodged and looking unstable.  It will be entirely gone by this evening.  I’m thinking now of deserted urban landscapes and text on walls again.  It is a powerfully simple idea, as seen in Don Levy’s Herostratus, and Godard’s One Plus One.  The turquoise Peabody hoardings have stayed surprisingly untouched by graffiti.  Everyone has given up.

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