Wednesday, December the 8th, 2004
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I wrote some months ago that where I live—when I am not on duty in the Haemoglobin Towers annexe, of course—has been designated as a hub. I am not entirely sure who has so designated it, although doubtless it was some “New” Labour apparatchik. In fact it would be more correct to dub it a forthcoming hub, or a hub-to-be, for of course its hubdom is not yet complete. I do not know how many tranches are involved in the area's transformation from whatever it is now to being a true hub, and this bothers me.
I want to know about the tranches, pretty desperately. Something cannot become a hub in Blair's brave new land without each successive tranche being signed off, or so I gather.
In fact I want some tranches of my own. Hooting Yard deserves, I think, to go from one tranche to another. So let this be the First Tranche, I declare.
It also strikes me that Hubs And Tranches sounds like an album title, perhaps one made by a fey singer-songwriter. If, dear reader, you are that fey singer-songwriter, you are welcome to use it.