Ben Watson, the Blakean wit and poetic insurgent extraordinaire, is a difficult man to pin down. Only utilising his slave name for the purposes of communicating and proselytizing at the frequency of Babylon[1], via the medium of Quartet Books and its suitably eccentric owner Naim Attalah[2] and Wire magazine he slips out of the grip of administrative positivism like a lubed-up marsupial mole. Under the guise of his nom de poesie, Out To Lunch, Watson has been responsible for the death of seventeen accountants and twelve welfare reports. Though Watson shares Žižek love of ‘radical’ totalising theory in the form of Hegel, Žižek’s less-than-absolute embrace of Bolshevism condemns him to soft-cock, academic leftism in Watson’s eyes (Art, Class & Cleavage: Quantulumcunque Concerning Materialist Esthetix [beeyatchh!]: 121).  Read the rest of this entry »