Strange fruit continues to hang from old trees still deeply rooted in ancient prejudice. The veneer of politeness and tolerance wears thin and becomes transparent. A few weeks ago three of us went down to the French embassy in London to protest the banning of the burkini on the beaches of France. We wore the
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The Trophy chair is all wrapped in calico and cardboard and tomorrow it will be crated and sent forth across the oceans to its new life beneath the southern stars in Sydney. Strange to see it go. It feels a bit like I have sold a favourite child. A golden child who began my obsession with
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The conversation goes something like this: Friend… Oh he’s just a fucking CUNT… Me…I hate that you use the word Cunt in that way. Cunt is a good thing…Cunt is a friendly word for my vagina..its a soft…sexy…served me well sort of word….I don’t like that you use it in a derogatory abusive way. Friend…oh
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