And don't forget to eat from the plate / 1 September 2015
I've not been to the Isle of Wight for a long time. First time I went I stayed with Islanders. I was defined by being a mainlander. We were different. I am different. They are different. Our language, our culture, hopes and aspirations are not the same.
This time I was a black country man staying in a hotel owned by brummies. My regionalism stood on high alert. Warning! Warning!! Holte Ender ahoy!!! Separated by a borderline and the trammels of history. Yet Brummies are in my bloodline. Should I ever explore familial ties on Who Do You Think You Are what shame and tragedy would transpire from this southern darkland.
Such were my thoughts when coming across this hotel notice. Use a door to enter and exit. What else would I do with it? Call on it to salve my conscience whensoever my prejudicial stereotyping stepped into being, use one of the glass plates to eat my next meal from, use it as the key to unlocking answers with questions.
Here is a reason I am taken by photography. The silliness and stupidity it reveals within my fellow man, the laughter, the langour as I sit and wonder and puzzle.
I am a child of the enlightenment. I am skeptical and cynical. Empiricism is important to me. Is there any evidence anywhere that this notice could not only have been left by a brummie living on the Isle Of Wight?
Please submit your proof. I want to knock down the bias I am trusted to live with.