From: tsm@fastmail.ca   
      
   On Feb 18, 2026 at 12:00:59 PM EST, "Noah Sombrero"  wrote:   
      
   > On Wed, 18 Feb 2026 16:54:09 -0000 (UTC), Tara    
   > wrote:   
   >   
   >> On Feb 18, 2026 at 11:31:04?AM EST, "Noah Sombrero"  wrote:   
   >>   
   >>> On Wed, 18 Feb 2026 11:15:57 -0500, Wilson    
   >>> wrote:   
   >>>   
   >>>> On 2/18/2026 11:07 AM, Tara wrote:   
   >>>>> On Feb 18, 2026 at 11:00:04?AM EST, "Wilson"    
   wrote:   
   >>>>>   
   >>>>>> On 2/18/2026 10:36 AM, Julian wrote:   
   >>>>>>> On 18/02/2026 15:28, Wilson wrote:   
   >>>>>>>> On 2/17/2026 6:20 PM, Tara wrote:   
   >>>>>>>>> Tara  wrote:   
   >>>>>>>>>> On Feb 17, 2026 at 4:24:25?PM EST, "Julian"    
   >>>>>>>>>> wrote:   
   >>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> I?ve got a new thriller out this week, under my pen name of S.K.   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Tremayne. I am pleased with the book, and I believe it?s   
   >>>>>>>>>>> entertaining. I   
   >>>>>>>>>>> am also aware that, in a tough and competitive market, that may   
   not be   
   >>>>>>>>>>> enough for it to succeed. I am even more aware that readers might   
   >>>>>>>>>>> decide   
   >>>>>>>>>>> the book is dreck. They might give me one star reviews, and no   
   sales.   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Then the book will crater, my publishers will probably abandon me,   
   and   
   >>>>>>>>>>> my nice career will drift to an end.   
   >>>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> And that, of course, is how it should be. No one in any career is   
   >>>>>>>>>>> entitled to a free ride. That especially applies to people who get   
   >>>>>>>>>>> to do   
   >>>>>>>>>>> a desirable, creative job such as novel writing. Whether you?re a   
   >>>>>>>>>>> writer, actor, director, sculptor or musician ? if you want that   
   >>>>>>>>>>> enviably fun creative profession, you live and die by public   
   approval;   
   >>>>>>>>>>> and if you are bad, goodbye.   
   >>>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Unless, of course, you are an architect. I was reminded of this   
   >>>>>>>>>>> peculiar   
   >>>>>>>>>>> anomaly by last week?s furore over the latest architectural wart to   
   >>>>>>>>>>> attach itself to London?s battered face: the already notorious   
   >>>>>>>>>>> ?Belgrove   
   >>>>>>>>>>> House?, that now dominates a prime corner of Euston Road, where it   
   >>>>>>>>>>> sits   
   >>>>>>>>>>> right next to King?s Cross and St Pancras.   
   >>>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> I presume it has been situated in London after the original design   
   was   
   >>>>>>>>>>> rejected by a horrified Uzbek government, as being too ugly for   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Tashkent.   
   >>>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> If you have not seen it yet, the best way to get a sense is to   
   look at   
   >>>>>>>>>>> photos like the one here.   
   >>>>>>>>>>> https://x.com/ianvisits/status/2020440287785443433   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Briefly. The second best way is for me to describe it, but that is   
   >>>>>>>>>>> actually quite hard. Because it?s difficult to verbally capture   
   this   
   >>>>>>>>>>> weird, stupid and meaningless collision of styles, materials,   
   >>>>>>>>>>> dimensions. The closest visual analogy, to my mind, is one of those   
   >>>>>>>>>>> plates piled high at a hotel buffet by an idiot: with a splodge of   
   >>>>>>>>>>> curry, some sauerkraut, five potatoes, some lemon pie, a lamb   
   cutlet,   
   >>>>>>>>>>> smoked herring, and several cheesy crackers, and everything banal   
   and   
   >>>>>>>>>>> tasteless even before you smush them together.   
   >>>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> In short, the building is appalling, and it?s not going to get   
   better   
   >>>>>>>>>>> over time. It is a dud. A turkey. A calamitous flop. It is the   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Millennium Dome. It is Fyre Festival. It is Triangle, the BBC soap   
   >>>>>>>>>>> opera   
   >>>>>>>>>>> set on a North Sea ferry route. It is Raise the Titanic. It is   
   Harry   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Hill?s I Can?t Sing. It is Keir Starmer?s prime ministerial career,   
   >>>>>>>>>>> rendered in concrete and plastic. It is my first novel, Absent   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Fathers,   
   >>>>>>>>>>> which got a cheque for zero pounds zero pence, as a computer could   
   not   
   >>>>>>>>>>> believe an author could sell so few copies, so sent a cheque   
   anyway.   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Finally, it is the architectural equivalent of Via Galactica   
   (1972), a   
   >>>>>>>>>>> space-themed musical with actors on trampolines, which lasted seven   
   >>>>>>>>>>> performances.   
   >>>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> But here?s the thing. For all the creative disasters listed above,   
   >>>>>>>>>>> someone responsible paid a price. Even the lavishly coddled   
   Millennium   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Dome project damaged careers. And yet, if you design and erect a   
   >>>>>>>>>>> hideous   
   >>>>>>>>>>> building, equivalent to these aesthetic catastrophes, you pay no   
   price   
   >>>>>>>>>>> at all. And this despite the fact that, unlike a rubbish novel, you   
   >>>>>>>>>>> can?t chuck a bad building in a bin. No, the building squats there,   
   >>>>>>>>>>> for   
   >>>>>>>>>>> decades, blighting the lives of everyone who must look at it. And   
   >>>>>>>>>>> given   
   >>>>>>>>>>> that this particular building is situated in one of the most   
   >>>>>>>>>>> conspicuous   
   >>>>>>>>>>> sites in the capital, opposite two of its grandest railway   
   stations,   
   >>>>>>>>>>> that is going to be a lot of people.   
   >>>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Worse, there?s a decent chance the architects of this carbuncle   
   >>>>>>>>>>> will get   
   >>>>>>>>>>> an award. Because that?s what they do in architecture world. They   
   have   
   >>>>>>>>>>> hideous ideas, then they force them on the rest of us, and then   
   they   
   >>>>>>>>>>> give each other prizes. Until, about 40 years down the line,   
   everyone   
   >>>>>>>>>>> accepts the obvious truth, and the pile of ugliness is finally   
   >>>>>>>>>>> demolished.   
   >>>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> If you need proof, just look at the lists. Salford?s laughable   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Centenary   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Building, Britain?s very first Stirling Prize winner (in 1996), was   
   >>>>>>>>>>> set   
   >>>>>>>>>>> to be knocked down just 30 years later, to much applause. The   
   Tricorn   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Centre Portsmouth won the Civic Trust award in 1967 and yet was   
   >>>>>>>>>>> demolished in 2004. Pimlico Comprehensive School collected a RIBA   
   >>>>>>>>>>> prize,   
   >>>>>>>>>>> then it was flattened in despair. Gateshead?s Trinity Square car   
   park   
   >>>>>>>>>>> was recognised as a ?most outstanding modernist building? by the   
   20th   
   >>>>>>>>>>> century society after it was blasted to hell. Add to this, our own   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Belgrove House: yes it won a World Architecture Festival Award in   
   >>>>>>>>>>> 2023.   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Yes, they?ve already given it an award. Perhaps they got excited by   
   >>>>>>>>>>> the   
   >>>>>>>>>>> potential ugliness. In any other art form, failure is failure. In   
   >>>>>>>>>>> architecture, terrible failure makes for a garlanded career.   
   >>>>>>>>>>>   
   >>>>>>>>>>> Clearly, what is needed is some kind of disincentive for   
   architects. A   
   >>>>>>>>>>> way to punish them for the pain they inflict. Or they will keep   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)