Megalomania watch

A few days ago I had a bit of a go at the City of London's brutalist monuments to elite power, looming over the puny lives of the ant-like common people. I hadn't anticipated that, within days, we'd have a far more potent symbol of the relationship between the City and the rest of us, now that the top-heavy monolith at 20 Fenchurch Street has gone rogue, like some Bond villain's doomsday device, its curved, mirrored glass focussing the sun's blazing rays on the surrounding streets, destroying everything in its path.

Can we just agree now that these things are pure evil,* or do we have to wait until the executive suite is fitted out with a piranha-filled moat where some Persian cat-stroking CEO can dispose of insuffiently-ruthless henchmen?


*Since the incineration of the local neighbourhood was (presumably) unplanned, you could argue that it's something closer to banal, blundering indifference than evil. Still, once you've been sat on by a 250 pound gorilla, the gorilla's exact intentions are rather less important than the fact that somebody let the damn thing out of its cage.