Friday, August 8th, 2008

"Let's take a ride, and run with the dogs tonight, in Su-bur-bia, you can't hide, run with the dogs tonight, in Su-bur-bia," sang the Pet Shop Boys in 1986. I've never really known what that actually means, but I did catch on to the gist of their main message at least. Suburbia = rather scary. And their 1984-esque dystopian vision of suburbia is pretty much what you see today, amidst the Tesco garages, theme pubs, stabbings, shootings and suicide bombers.

Then there's David Lynch's surreal Blue Velvet, which is, incidentally, from 1986 too – at large 3 days before 'In Suburbia'. It introduced the uninitiated to the idea that suburbia's white teeth, perma-smiles and perfect 2.4 children (although that's not exactly perfect now is it, outside of Chernobyll? Coincidentally, the nuclear waste from Chernobyll was released in 1986 as well, 5 months before 'In Suburbia'), are just a façade. Scratch the surface a little, and you can find severed ears and other yucky stuff underneath. Or something like that. So forget that little village in the middle of nowhere and the Australian outback, suburbia is far stranger and much more frightening. And it's right on your doorstep.

For instance, a recent trip to Honor Oak Park (SE23) didn't exactly help my suburbophobia. Because there, even the trees are out to get you – take a look at the photos if you're a non-believer. There's a sign up near the station (which was, in fact, opened in 1886, one hundred years and 5 months before 'In Suburbia') warning, 'Beware of the trees'. Forget the dogs Pet Shop Boys, how come you never told us about the killer trees!

Then in Nunhead (SE15), every May they have an 'Open Day' in the cemetery (and weirdly enough, someone was buried there in 1886.) The cemetery, what a great day out for the kids. Walking over dead bodies. Is the Open Day for recruiting gravediggers at an early age? Or perhaps its visitors are there to satiate the Nunhead zombies, including the disembodied nun's head? Unsurprisingly, admission is free – well in this life at least.

And what's with all these coats and cardigans that are just left about? Are they the only thing that remains when the people of suburbia spontaneously combust/get abducted by aliens/run with the dogs tonight? They're everywhere throughout the suburbs, inner city ones or those in Greater London. Hanging on posts, railings and fences, like eerie street decorations for an eternal Halloween. It's not like they're found on buses or trains, or anywhere where someone might have understandably forgotten them, but right in the middle of the street. I reckon when someone leaves the 1,986th, it'll trigger the apocalypse.