Sunday 29 May 2011

The Tulse Hillbillies

It’s nearly June and here in Tolly Maw it’s been raining for days, albeit hardly (and by definition) – solid. You’re not meant to begin by talking about the weather, and it irritates me too in a novel or other story but in here and its relative. For with the weather and indeed making that weather, we have visitors. They’ve been up on the Irritables all night where bell-mouthed and alarming their weather engine coughs up cloud. I wouldn’t mind because I remember the video, but it’s neither Kate Bush not Donald Sutherland. No, we have the Badger Brothers and it’s no real surprise that camping up they’ve done so on the Irritables for the Irritables are the nearby hills, and the Badger Brothers are Tulse Hillbillies.
Normally camping out in the ancient woodlands of Norwood the persistent stories attached to them regarding missing dogs, moonshine and when alone and dressed in pots and cushions their battling – are all frightfully unfair. The Badger Brothers are some of the last of the indigenous people of South London, long predating the railways and haircuts. Their way of life is not ours to question. Who are we to say that a firm handshake is more correct as a greeting than a long and manly lick of one another’s faces? Are we to really assume it is the Badger Brothers that are behind the regular theft of washing hung up to dry? Washing here entirely composed of faded and most likely ill-fitting bras? Are we just jumping to conclusions based upon their under-wired tents with worn elastic guy ropes? I think so.
In these modern times we tend to forget about the likes of the Tulse Hillbillies. What with their charming giggling and the way they wee a little whenever they tell the truth. Ancient guardians of the capital they are the Rangers of South London, watching over us as we watch tele, or have a bath, or even a poo.
Now here and licking their wounds (quite literally) they have built their weather engine, and I fear to ask why. The storm is gathering and the Swintons beat the night with screams within this wounded thunder.
Whilst here and the Badger Brothers stand to protect us. Or are waiting for Eliza Dushku to make a Wrong Turn. One of the two.   


  1. I shall cast my eye towards Crystal Palace and watch the skies for evidence as Norwood lays between there and here.

  2. Dang baldy badger keeps eetin of my stuff. I done labelled my stuff wid labels sayin my stuff but since we got the same hanwritin stoopid tard thinks its his stuff een tho he never done labelled nothin. Dang. His pants have fallen down again. It's always when we's tryin' ter rob a vendin machine. Tard looks like he humpin the darned thing now. Dang.