Hell Fat Nob / October 24 2007
On our early morning walk today, Audrey and I happened to pass by a house on Victoria Street that had been comprehensively vandalised and had had obscene graffiti daubed all over it during the night.
I recognised the address because it had been featured in the local newspaper earlier in the week. It is the home of a sex-offender - a man who was convicted three years ago of molesting a young boy from his immediate family.
He has just been released from prison and the article in the paper was clumsily trying to spark a debate about whether his address should be made available to the local community. People know who he is and where he lives - so, in reality, it is a moot point.
The only thing that was not widely-known was when he was due to return. His arrival must be imminent, however, if one takes into account the sudden appearance of the hateful graffiti. Whether his address and the precise date of his homecoming should be made public or not is of no interest to me – it is a controversial subject and one about which I feel somewhat ambivalent. It is the odious and venomous scrawls that now decorate his home that I find rather fascinating, not least because, by and large, they appear to be written in some kind of ancient language, an indecipherable tongue that I find both mystifying and completely captivating.
Take for instance this example that is written in letters about two feet high on his front door: HELL FAT NOB LIVES HERE. I was wondering, as we strolled past, if this is in fact a helpful item of information for eager vandals. Perhaps the man is of Chinese origin and his name is Hell Fat Nob and this message - rather like the blue plaques erected by the National Trust - is meant to point out to passers-by or tourists that this is where he lives.
Another example says: SUCK MY DICK PEDO. One must assume, I think, that this particular message was written by an adult - one with questionable tastes.
Elsewhere it says in gold spray-paint: DIE PEDDO PHIL. Again, this could simply be the name of the person living inside and an invitation for him to expire.
The piece I find most absorbing is written on the living-room window in Christmas spray-snow. It says: SICK ARSE WANKA=COLA MEGASTORE. The meaning of this, I must confess, is completely lost on me.
Filed under English Village Life / Modern Art / Monsters / Vandalism
Comments
4 comments on “Hell Fat Nob”
Jo Beaufoix / October 25th, 2007 at 1:07 pm
People who do this kind of thing amaze me.
I mean what about the kids who walk past and read these obscenities??
Miss E has been able to read public toilet walls since she was five, so she’d definitely be asking me what some of those words are.
Nightmare.
Napoleon Fantastic / October 25th, 2007 at 6:44 pm
Jo,
We saw the poor fellow cleaning it all off today. I did laugh! Ha Ha! He didn’t look too pleased, mind you.
Jo Beaufoix / October 26th, 2007 at 12:36 am
Well he shouldn’t be such a vile git then.
Napoleon Fantastic / October 26th, 2007 at 12:02 pm
Jo, I concur.
Leave a comment
