delusions of grandeur
Little girls
The elephant
At Smiths of Smithfield for breakfast
It reminds me of the Lilliputians tying down the giant Gulliver, except this time we are the puny little ones stunned by the elephantine image. Human beings tend to make a big deal out of enormous objects; remember not too long ago our attentions were focused on the demise of the poor brute in Thames, or Anish Kapoor's silently powerful red trumpet that seemed to suck you into its deep hole. Size = grandeur and spectacle. Like other onlookers on a cloudy Saturday afternoon, we waited for the arrival of the man-powered elephant, whilst watching the 'little' girl in her cute green dress doing nothing much but blink and smile. As some sort of New Age music drifted in, the elephant very, very slowly stomped along Trafalgar Sq. Besides moving forwards, it could make elephant-like noises and squirt water out of its trunk; well, asking it to do a little dance was too much... Then various exotic people came out of the beast and mumbled some sentences, people cheered but I had no idea what it was all about. Later it seemed that the show had come to an end, and without having much leg room the elephant simply stomped backwards to where it came from; meanwhile I am still hoping that the lazy 'little' girl would at least get up and do some exercise. Oh well, at least my friend is much, much more mobile than that.
