Sign of Our Times
This morning I was not feeling very productive at all really: having dutifully read throughout most of my reading week. So, I decided to go out into the gloom (it was cloudy today) and I walked along the Regent's Canal. This is the sort of place like in the song Dirty Old Town:

I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
Kissed a girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town

The old canal is long, relatively green, and very quiet (for London, anyway). It lead you along abandoned and not yet fully gentrified old factory buildings to the very gentrfied and busy Camden Lock Market and then to Regent's Park, which is very posh. In the end however, after Camden and Regent's Park, the canal led me to a place that for some to me rather obscure reason is called Little Venice, which is very much in West London. West London, you must know, is quite the opposite of East London where the working class, the famous cockneys and eastenders live. Here, in the Richman's Playground, I observed the following Sign of Our Times:

Reward:
Have you seen this very small Chihuahua?

I fear for the poor dog's life: London in winter is, after all, not quite northern Mexico. Sic transit gloria mundi. Amen.