Reading Signs: Jews and Dotes…

Frankly, Dear Reader, sometimes reading signs ‘correctly’ can be a bit of a schlep…

Hackney residents were shocked yesterday to see a new road sign had been erected

*Beards and hats and dressed in black… /shakes head… Knot Amish, though, Clicky. You don’t get many Amish in London…*

Franck Allais produced the road sign artwork for a project, to ‘celebrate London’s diversity’.

“It was a project about crossing the road … how everyone is different, everyone has an identity.

“There is not only one sign in the street. I put more signs up in the street, but only this one got noticed.

“I am sorry for any offence caused.”

Signs missed by the residents included a woman pushing a shopping trolley…

… a man pushing a wheelchair…

… and a cat…

*Knot exactly ‘people’ though, Clicky, eh? *

*/rolls eyes…*

A misunderstanding then, rectified and apology given. Not a sign of a hate crime…

“We take reports of hate crimes extremely seriously so if any residents find any kind of anti-Semitic signs or graffiti they should immediately report them to the police on 101.”

*/sneers… Hateful sign…*

Blue Frank put up an interesting post today about ‘roadkill‘. He too is seeing signs…

But it might be beginning to change. It’s not as easy “to control exactly what people think” as it was 20 years ago. The internet is changing how information gets around. The MSM no longer has a monopoly on what and what isn’t news.

*Smokers and Jews have a lot in common, Clicky… /sigh…*

… Whilst Red Frank posted images of Anne Frank, and children fleeing for their lives, along a road…

*He also included one of Leggy’s short stories, Clicky… From the same book at ‘Telephone Pest’… We turned that into a screenplay… /blows out cheeks… Fucked if I know how to get it made…*

*Heh. You romantic, Clicky… /lights up… And if knot? …/blows smoke…*

 

State of Play

Koffing

Oh fuck! The quintessential game of the Snowflake generation is back

*No, Clicky, they’re whiners, not winos… /shakes head… let me tell the story*

*******

 

Almighty whoops and Poppy’s incessant barking drew me from kitchen sink daydreams to the Library. Thoughtful Man lay slumped in his chair, head bowed, gasping for breath.

“OH MY GOD! Are you okay?!” I cried, rushing toward him. He’d been serious ill earlier this year; I hoped it wasn’t a relapse. I placed my arm about his shoulders – they were shaking. Poppy stood on her tiny back legs and urgently pawed at his knees.

“Ah…” Thoughtful man lifted his head. His face was contorted and his eyes runneth over. “Ah… HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Relieved that he was only laughing and not suffocating, I waited for him to calm down before inquiring after the source of his mirth. “What’s so funny?”

“Pokémon.” He dabbed at his eyelashes, pregnant with glistening tears, with the bottom of my tee-shirt. I was just grateful he didn’t need to blow his nose. “It’s this new game every bugger’s playing, Pokémon Go…”

I was aware of the recent phenomenon. “Yeah, a bunch of idiots running around trying to catch digital monsters on their mobile phones. Sounds like a lot of accidents waiting to happen.”

“Yes, well read this.” He moved aside so that I could read his computer screen.

Pokémon Go, the augmented reality game released nearly a week ago, has led people to all sorts of places to catch Pokémon and to battle other players. One of those places happened to be the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C.

“A Holocaust museum? That’s very bad taste,” I started to opine until Thoughtful Man encouraged me to read on.

According to The Washington Post, the museum appears to be a popular spot for players who flock there to play Pokémon Go. Recently, an image was uploaded showing the Pokémon Koffing that was allegedly found in the Helena Rubinstein Auditorium of the museum.

“A pokémon called Koffing? Koffing? At a Holocaust museum? Oh, that’s terrible…” I looked at Thoughtful Man with a look of utmost shock, betrayed only by the twitching of my lips.

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Guess what Koffing’s special ability is?”

“Nooooo…” I whispered incredulously and snapped back round to the screen.

The auditorium plays the testimonials of Jews who survived the gas chambers during the Holocaust. It’s pretty obvious as to how a Koffing, known for its poisonous gas attacks, can be offensive.

“Oh dear god!” I crossed my legs to stop any leakage of my own and howled like a dog.

*******

*Oh shush, Clicky. Have a Song*