The people of Hammersmith are all somewhat eccentric, not like us norms up in Shepherd's Bush; there are certainly no nutcases here. Do we have pesticle statues in our shopping centre? No. In fact we don't even have that many shops.
As I was running down to the river this afternoon, and was approaching Hammersmith Roundabout I passed a man walking in the other direction. He was staring fixedly to his left (at nothing in particular) and his shoulder was brushing the walls of the shops. He was holding a piece of card, which he angled out so the words on it might easily be read by anyone who happened to notice him. He looked a bit scared.
I didn't get time to read the sign in its entirity (I was going that fast), but it said something along the lines of "I am under surveillance by the British Police" (or possibly secret services). The gist of it was clear though. He felt he was being followed or monitored by those dark forces that we occasionally hear about and was trying to let the world know of his plight.
If I hadn't been running I might have stopped to ask him why this was happening, or what he had done or how he knew about this. I might at least have advised him that if he was under surveillance, then he was just making it easier for the people surveilling him by carrying such a conspicuous means of identification and he might want to try not holding a small sign and instead run away really quickly, trying to dodge down blind allies and jumping on buses as they pulled away to shake off his pursuers.
I have a feeling though, that if I had talked to him, he might have assumed that I was part of the conspiracy to get him, that I was only pretending to be his friend, when in fact I was part of this network that had been set up to see what he got up to.
I know where he's coming from. I've got a definite feeling that I myself am the star of some kind of reality TV show which is able to look into every aspect of my life. The papers I buy are specially editted editions which make no mention of this series and I get different TV programmes beamed into my home whenever the show about me is on.
This explains why people often look at me oddly in the street and occasionally openly laugh at my approach, because they've seen the sad and desperate things I get up to when I believe I am alone.
I know that this is all probably true, but I'd never walk around the streets with a sign declaring the fact (what would be the point? Everyone knows, the Richard Herring show is top of the ratings and I am the most famous person in the world).
I am self aware enough to know that this kind of publicity would be just what the dark forces want.
And it is level headedness like this that marks out the Shepherd's Bush norm from the Hammersmith nutter.
