A piece on the bits of Birmingham’s history that play on the mind:
“It’s a coming of age. Our society doesn’t cast you into the forest naked to kill a wild boar anymore, it makes you live in either soulless or fetid accommodation and hunt from the Tesco Value range. Having gone through that, as an elder of the Brum tribe I can now reveal the secrets of our race-memory, an induction more powerful than anything involving smoking those funny leaves.
All cities have what we call urban myths, in fact most cities have the same ones: the niteclub guy stabbing people with HIV-invected needles who left notes in the ’90s, amphibians in the sewers and that “regeneration” is best served by the blandest of culture. But myths aren’t true, what I’m going to impart are more urban memes, they dance round the edge of Legend but are all true. ish.”