For some years, the M40 has sported one of my favourite locations for graffiti. I'm not sure when I first noticed it - travelling on the coach from Oxford to London, or when I started driving, I imagine - but there it was, plastered across a fence just before the junction with the M25.
It's a pannelled fence and in childish writing, one letter per panel, it read "Why do I do this every day?". Further along, in block capitals, was possibly my all-time favourite graffito "EAT MORE PEAS!". I don't actually like peas, but something about being given dietary advice by a motorway fence appealed to me. Later someone added in glossy, white letters "Jesus, Prince of Strife".
Then a few years ago, it all changed. The question was replaced with the insistent "Why do I still do this every day?", in the same childish writing on a grass-green background. It obliterated the peas, and ate into the edge of Jesus.
For a long time, I thought it was sad. The persistent plea of a tired commuter, sick to death of the M40 but tied to a job that required it. Then I realised that actually, there must be thousands of such weary commuters, and only one with the time, energy and resources to lug a large quantity of paint up a hill and trumpet his (or her) dissatisfaction with the status quo. Maybe others had thought about it, but none had actually done it. The determination in itself transforms them from the humdrum commuter they claim to be.
The other week, though, it was all change again. A new slogan adorns the fence. In giant, bulgy 3D capitals it now reads "NEW TEAM SUPREME". I'm sure a different hand has been at work; maybe they're just announcing their claim of the fence. I look forward to developments.
It's a pannelled fence and in childish writing, one letter per panel, it read "Why do I do this every day?". Further along, in block capitals, was possibly my all-time favourite graffito "EAT MORE PEAS!". I don't actually like peas, but something about being given dietary advice by a motorway fence appealed to me. Later someone added in glossy, white letters "Jesus, Prince of Strife".
Then a few years ago, it all changed. The question was replaced with the insistent "Why do I still do this every day?", in the same childish writing on a grass-green background. It obliterated the peas, and ate into the edge of Jesus.
For a long time, I thought it was sad. The persistent plea of a tired commuter, sick to death of the M40 but tied to a job that required it. Then I realised that actually, there must be thousands of such weary commuters, and only one with the time, energy and resources to lug a large quantity of paint up a hill and trumpet his (or her) dissatisfaction with the status quo. Maybe others had thought about it, but none had actually done it. The determination in itself transforms them from the humdrum commuter they claim to be.
The other week, though, it was all change again. A new slogan adorns the fence. In giant, bulgy 3D capitals it now reads "NEW TEAM SUPREME". I'm sure a different hand has been at work; maybe they're just announcing their claim of the fence. I look forward to developments.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-12 03:27 pm (UTC)The fence with the paint on will always be "the burning fence" in my mind [memories of 1976] and the cutting at J6 is "Chickenshit Gorge". All this newfangled paint stuff just doesn't cut it. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2007-10-12 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-12 03:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-12 03:37 pm (UTC)In 1976 the whole of the Chilterns was tinder-dry all year (1975 and 1976 droughts contributing hugely) and the fence spontaneously combusted on more than one occasion; once when we were stuck in an enormous traffic jam on the motorway. Scared the hell out of me, and alarmed my parents somewhat (as it then occurred to them that large parts of our village could go the same way if it didn't rain soon...).
As for Chickenshit Gorge - when the cutting was first made it was bright white chalk. In direct sunlight it was dazzling and dangerous to drivers from certain angles, and it also was prone to crumbling, and there were mini-landslides. So during the early 1970s they decided to spray it to encourage growth of lichen & mosses. The nearby chicken farms provided suitable organic material, and a nickname.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-12 03:41 pm (UTC)I've seen the Crow Aptok (now I've looked at the picture) but it had never occurred to me that it should be read as all one word. I just thought it was a 'Crow' and an 'AP-T' and an 'OK' which happened to be close to each other (and very unfaded).
no subject
Date: 2007-10-12 03:49 pm (UTC)The chalk pits at Chinnor (3 miles along the hill) are similarly starting to go grey but probably won't be green for another 20 years - the cement works only closed in the 1990s so the quarries are still quite white in direct sunlight. I don't know how long the (alkaline) pools will stay bright blue; the whiteness of the underlying chalk affects the colour, obviously. They make for an interesting view when walking in the area.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-12 09:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-12 09:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-12 09:23 pm (UTC)Um. I always assumed it was an obscure band, but I think you have a good point.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-13 01:28 am (UTC)