13 January 2016

You'd Better Stop and Rebuild All Your Ruins

A sign on the wall (if you want to be sure) marks the building's unfortunate history.
The Zeppelin Building, Farringdon Road, London, 4th November, 2015
I have no plans to die any time soon. Living with a chronic illness makes you occasionally think about such things and when I have paused to speculate on such matters I have assumed that it will either happen at a very old age in bed asleep, or, more likely, from my insides deciding one day to betray me and go on an initial work-to-rule followed by extended industrial action resulting in the eventual shuttering of the entire business as management say, "Sod this", lock the gates and head off to America and prepare to fight the eventual extradition battle.

However I now have a new preferred way to go, which is... in a zeppelin raid.

I agree that this is not the most likely way to go and hasn't been for a hundred years or so, but you have to admit that it would be a great conversation point at the funeral (not that I would get to engage in those conversations, but you can think of it as parting gift to funeral-goers who don't know too many people there).

I have a nightly walking route in London that takes me riverward past St Paul's Cathedral, across the Millennium Bridge to the Tate Modern, back across the Thames along Blackfriars Bridge and up the hill along Farringdon Road, and it is on Farringdon that I pass the Zeppelin Building, destroyed completely in a Zeppelin raid on September 8th 1915 and rebuilt in 1917. I would imagine that it was not called the Zeppelin Building until after it was rebuilt, given the Morissette-levels of irony necessary for the name to predate the raid, but if it did that would have made an equally good conversation-starter at the funerals of any unfortunate workers caught up in that night's tragedy.

Still, makes you wonder.

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