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Check-Out Time Is Now…

June 5, 2009

Untitled (1958)
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I think, at this time of political uncertainty, it behoves the unaknowledged legislators of the world to try and make sense of it all. So let’s have sonnets on the current situation. Here’s a Spenserian sonnet:
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They laid this stone trap
for him, enticing him with candles,
as though he would come like some huge moth
out of the darkness to beat there.

from The Empty Church by R.S. Thomas

Out Of The Darkness

In his prime, they said He’s the coming man
And ever since, he’s climbed the greasy pole,
Most everything went according to plan:
His pals on the teat, the plebs on the dole;
Of course, some fools claimed he’d sold his soul,
As if such a man had a soul to sell;
As if such a man had any role
But to open the gates to a new hell;
Such men go too often to the dark well,
Replenished by Nemesis, topped with bile,
All senses deadened, such men cannot tell
Drinks that refresh from the drinks that defile.

Now shunned and despised, he clutches at straws:
Begs for a comfortable seat in the Lords.

I also urge you to serve up a slice of lyrical cake over at our friend Zepherine’s blog.

262 Comments
  1. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 5, 2009 4:48 PM

    just desserts

    friedmarsbar-pale asthmatic, the last gasp
    expelled with direst purpose, wilfully,
    by those once close. the catch; the haunted rasp;
    confidence shot; the hit man skilfully
    blends into cheshire chameleon-like,
    leaving the harried scot with back to bench
    as locker-room bullies advance. oh keech!
    is sliding doon his leg! a rain! a drench!
    through bleary tears, his garment torn and rent,
    he contemplates the lizard’s patient work.
    two years immobile; confined; cornered; pent;
    ambition has undone the pushy clerk.
    beware the spinning top: what goes around
    can swing and reel and leave your trousers browned.

  2. mishari permalink*
    June 5, 2009 5:02 PM

    Great stuff, as usual, HLM. I took the liberty of italicising and emboldening the title, assuming that the astericks indicated same. Did I do wrong?

    Also, zeph requires your talent for a cake poem. Get cracking.

    BTW, Bill’s just published the final list of poems for the anthology.

    Now, here’s a politician I can get behind:

  3. Pathetic little sidekick permalink
    June 6, 2009 7:16 PM

    HLM’s brilliance seems to have unmanned me. I’m dry.

  4. mishari permalink*
    June 6, 2009 8:11 PM

    Although your new handle is admirable in its self-lacerating honesty, I wonder if I can persuade you to change your name to Igor and grow a small (but tasteful) hump? Like this:

  5. Zephirine permalink
    June 6, 2009 9:34 PM

    Many thanks to the Mishari Posse for cake poems.

    I’ve tried to compose a sonnet on instructions for the sharpening and placing of knives from Mrs Toynbee’s Book of Party Management, but failed – so I pass the idea on in case anybody else is better at finding rhymes for ‘stiletto’.

  6. June 6, 2009 9:52 PM

    La Toynbee slides out a stiletto
    Like a fiend from a penny libretto
    But don’t be distraught or upset-o
    Enjoy the show, eat a cornetto

  7. pinkroom9 permalink
    June 6, 2009 10:00 PM

    (Another) pathetic little sidekick soothes his master

    It began with that creature Tony Blair
    a slick little “on the make” kinda clown
    all teeth and trousers and blow wave’d hair
    that maddened the clunkin’, heavyweight Brown
    Tony left him a squirelly timebomb, Blears
    who would one day nip him, sharp in the balls;
    those toerags Smith and Purnell too drew tears,
    leaving Gordon to listen to the oils
    that ooze soft from the unctious Mandleson.
    “Ignore the squeaks of the wretched Purnell
    I’ll kick his arse, with my sharp sandals on
    Hang on in there Gord. things will soon turn well
    and forget about “Dynasty” babe, Flint
    unwanted, ex-ministers end up skint.”

    Great new handle mm btw. Conjures up images of some Schviek/baldrick character drooling vacantly (but adoringly) toward the elbow of his superior officer – yet also cynically using his underdog/hangdog status to, for example, attract the sympathy of women of a certain age, who innocently draw him to their bosom for er… comfort… it’s a low trick but if it’s working for you???

  8. mishari permalink*
    June 6, 2009 10:03 PM

    Oh, let us never forget, oh!
    The bitterness rankles us yet, oh!
    For slipping poor Brown the stiletto
    Vile Purnell, he will live to regret, oh!

    I’ve got a posse? Cool. I guess I’ll take up crack dealing, get shot a few times and release a gangsta rap LP. Excuse me…I’ve got to go and launder my bandana…

  9. June 6, 2009 10:39 PM

    Don’t forget to limber up those fingers for Vulcan-style gangsta-mime greetings at weddings, christenings and crackhouse lunches.

  10. MeltonMowberry permalink
    June 6, 2009 11:57 PM

    I’m back, baby!
    .
    .

    Interview with a vampire

    My thoughts on the current situation?
    Well, things aren’t quite as bad as they could be,
    I have a full year’s salary to come,
    if Gordon doesn’t lose it completely,
    the mortgage is paid on all four houses,
    I’ve put the Tuscan villa up for sale,
    Marcus has finished his Ag College course,
    and I swung a job for Daisy on the Mail.

    At the worst I’ll have the gratuity,
    plus, thank goodness, that wonderful pension:
    my spell at the MOD helped me find
    a nice directorship in the City-
    What? Oh, the political situation.
    Sorry, old chap, got a lot on my mind.

  11. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 12:17 PM

    …and excellent, as always. It’s laughable, isn’t it, that the troughers imagine that ‘stepping down’ at the next election is sufficient? I want them to step down off Beachy Head.

    The only one who’s behaved honourably is Ian Gibson. I know he’s being accused of pique but given his long history of being a thorn in the govt’s side, I’m inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

    His voting record’s a bit of a mixed bag, but it suggests he was his own man:

    # Voted moderately against a transparent Parliament.
    # Voted strongly for introducing a smoking ban.
    # Voted a mixture of for and against introducing ID cards.
    # Voted moderately against introducing foundation hospitals.
    # Voted moderately against introducing student top-up fees.
    # Voted a mixture of for and against Labour’s anti-terrorism laws.
    # Voted moderately against the Iraq war.
    # Voted very strongly against an investigation into the Iraq war.
    # Voted very strongly against replacing Trident.
    # Voted very strongly for the hunting ban.
    # Voted very strongly for equal gay rights.
    # Voted moderately for laws to stop climate change.

    …as for the rest….never mind…I must think of my blood pressure.

  12. June 7, 2009 12:59 PM

    The Libdems are apparently confused on their policy for Europe. The whole damn thing confuses me too, so I think they represent my views nicely…

  13. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 1:13 PM

    This is too priceless not to share:

    Veteran Labour MP Sir Gerald Kaufman yesterday blamed a self-diagnosed “obsessive compulsive disorder” for making bizarre and extravagant claims on the public purse including £8,865 for a 40in LCD Bang & Olufsen television.

    Sir Gerald also said his condition led him to purchase a pair of Waterford Crystal grapefruit bowls for £220 on his parliamentary expenses.

    Sir Gerald, 79, a former government minister, told the Manchester Evening News that his claim for the Bang & Olufsen TV was “daft”, adding: “I’d self-diagnosed myself with obsessive compulsive disorder and I’d bought a new television set.” Sir Gerald had already bought a similar TV without claiming for it. “Then I decided to have a bigger one,” he said. “I thought to myself, ‘Well, you can claim for a TV, so why not?'”

    Sir Gerald said he needed two grapefruit bowls because one was for him and another “for any guests”.

    He said: “As part of my OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder), I have the same breakfast when I’m at home both in London and Manchester every day,” he said. “Half a grapefruit, a bowl of muesli with semi-skimmed milk and a cup of coffee with a Rich Tea biscuit. That’s breakfast.” A cleaner broke one dish, he said “so I got a replacement”.

    Sir Gerald also charged the taxpayer £225 for a rollerball pen and admitted when asked to explain his claims that they were “bizarre-sounding”. —Independent, 6.6.09

    …so now we know. The poor darlings are suffering from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. And there was me, thinking they were just a bunch of amoral swine…

  14. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 7:34 PM

    Petrarchan Sonnet: Onwards And Upwards

    We’ve lied and we’ve lied ’til we’re blue in the face,
    Till scorpions rejected our mouths for a nest;
    Our probity tested and we failed the test,
    Of backbones, you’ll find that we haven’t a trace.
    We must all now move to a far better place,
    Where fittings and fixtures are naught but the best,
    Where fat cats like us are well-fed and caressed,
    Where no-one will mention our shame and disgrace.

    Make way for the swine on their way to the Lords,
    Break out the robes and the symbols of rank,
    Keep us away from the envious hordes,
    And the taxman away from our Cayman Isles bank.
    Give us more seats on more company boards
    As we splutter and mutter and spout loads of wank.

  15. SidekickMelton permalink
    June 7, 2009 8:32 PM

    Sweet Caroline Flint

    Gorgeous high priestess of Aphrodite’s shrine,
    Raven-haired temptress of the political class,
    Even her dark-brown liquid eyes cannot outshine
    Her in-depth understanding of fishing quotas.

    So she couldn’t be bothered to read the Treaty.
    Big deal! Is that such an unforgivable sin?
    The possessor of such astonishing beauty
    Can absorb that silly CAP through her silky skin.

    Really, it’s not as though she’s some kind of airhead,
    She knows the detail of the European project
    As well as she knows the contours of her behind.
    Her luscious body is wrapped in Labour red
    To show allegiance, not to be a sex-object:
    In a way, posing demonstrates her steel-trap mind.

  16. SidekickMelton permalink
    June 7, 2009 8:40 PM

    Nice one, Prince! (98.5% real praise, 1% sidekickery)

  17. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 8:47 PM

    50% real praise is perfectly adequate from those whose opinions I respect, O faithful minion…

    Addressing a meeting of hand-picked supporters in Stratford, east London, the prime minister said it was a “tricky time for the whole country” and the public would not thank him or his ministers for giving up.

    “What would they think of us if ever we walked away from them at a time of need? We are sticking with them…”–Grauniad, today

    One can imagine Hitler saying much the same thing as Russian artillery shells fell around the Berlin bunker.

  18. SidekickMelton permalink
    June 7, 2009 8:49 PM

    Sticking with us like something on the bottom of your shoe.

  19. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 8:52 PM

    …or napalm.

    BTW, MM, I’ve got the complete Goon Shows series 4-10 plus some strays, about 200 episodes in all. Interested?

  20. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 7, 2009 9:12 PM

    True commentators, like Motty and Lawry
    Banter like Krankies, like Morecambe and Wise.
    Add the exotic – Sidekick and Mishari –
    Sauté with Cheech and Chong, deep Fry and Laurie,
    Fogg with Passepartout, with mash and with pies…
    …For lack of taste, i should apologize.

  21. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 9:15 PM

    Ah, HLM…perhaps you can explain to me how the English managed to get handed their arses by the Dutch?

  22. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 7, 2009 9:19 PM

    Sorry, I swore off cricket – the game, as opposed to the experience – when I came to France. Oddly, enough, I have been asked recently to shore up the lower order when they’re short-handed. Whatever that means.

  23. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 9:21 PM

    But, HLM…France is fast becoming a cricket hot-bed:

    As reported recently, the French cricket association hopes to re-stage, in 2012, the first and only Olympic cricket final played between England and France in 1900. In my original report, I suggested that the almost 1,000 cricketers registered in France mostly used English cricket vocabulary.

    Eddie Cannon, vice-president of France Cricket, kindly sent me the book to point out that this is incorrect (in theory if not in practice). In the glossary of Les Lois, all the wonderful language of cricket has been imaginatively translated into French.

    Did you ever wonder what the French might be for deep backward square leg? Answer: “Barrière oblique côté fermé”. A bowler is, prosaically, “un bôleur”; a batsman is “un batteur”; a wicket is “un guichet”; a stump is “un piquet”.

    Beyond the basics, cricket in French becomes just as poetic as cricket in English. An off-spinner is “un tricoteur” or “knitter”. A leg-spinner is a “tournicoteur” or “prowler”. A wicket maiden is “une vierge couronnée (a crowned virgin).

    My favourite is the “googly” which is “un bosanquet”. The word, which sounds convincingly French, is an inspired choice. The googly was invented by an England cricketer at the turn of the 20th century. His name was Bernard Bosanquet. He was the father of the late, unpredictable ITN newsreader, Reginald Bosanquet, who was something of a googly himself.–The Independent

  24. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 7, 2009 9:26 PM

    Similarly, “le boycott” in French (late 20C) [sorry, I’m still not up to speed on italics] translates as a stoic but grumpy refusal to have anything to do with what the “bôleur” may throw at you.

  25. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 9:29 PM

    I expect le Beefy is used to describe after-match shennigans..

  26. freep permalink
    June 7, 2009 9:45 PM

    Previously:
    ‘Freep has been offered a post in Gordon Brown’s cabinet as Minister For Walking The Dog and Occasionally Throwing A Stick. This is good news….’

    It is partially true. In the reshuffle, I was offered The Joint Post, with my dogg, of Sniffing Lampposts and Reordering the World Oeconomy. But my dogg was troubled by the magnitude of the second kennel allowance, and I felt the lamppost part was beneath me. We have therefore respectfully rejected the offer. In any case, there is the World Whole Life Secretariat to carry on with, which does take up a good deal of our time.
    (This, in case anyone missed it, is the task of ensuring that all registrations of deaths match up with their corresponding birth certificates. So far, we have a 4.73% error rate, confirming that a very significant number of persons who have died were never recorded as having been born. The highest error rates are in Peru, Northampton, Adelaide and Ulan Bator, and show between 10% and 13% of their populations were never born. To carry on this work seems more important than either lampposts (do they have two ‘p’s?) or merely shoving a few pennies away from the undeserving towards the unwashed clamorous …)

  27. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 9:53 PM

    I thought the World Whole Life Secretariat were busily trying to eliminate bumble-bees after scientists proved that they (the bumble-bees, not the scientists) can’t fly. You’ve expanded your remit, then?

  28. freep permalink
    June 7, 2009 10:33 PM

    Yes, mish, there’s plenty to do. We were worried (the Secretary, Antonio Cabral and I) about the inability of scientists to fly. But it is the population issue that is most troubling.
    We have tracked births to deaths in several countries, as well as deaths to births, and find that 18.4% of the population of Belgium whose births were recorded between 1870 and 1890 have not registered their deaths. This means that 48,000 Belgian-born citizens are aged between 119 and 139. Or are missing from the registers. We cannot find any of them, despite looking in many cupboards and in woods and public houses. The same applies to Bermuda and Kuwait, where the missing totals are 4,200 and 17,000 respectively. We are worried about our data, and may decide to turn our attention to counting stones in the desert instead. The Gobi seems a good place to start.
    Poetry, after all, may be no more than an antidote to counting. And cricket is just a way of practising counting. All that matters in the world is counting things, and we in the Secretariat aim to get the accounts straight. Senor Cabral is a master at adding up; his five-bar gates are scrupulous beyond anything I have seen. You would be surprised at how quickly he can count pies, and at his restraint in not eating any of them. Even Jam pies, which I encountered for the first time in Donegal this week.

  29. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 10:38 PM

    Jam pie? I can’t say I count that (ha-ha. See what I did there?) amongst my experiences. Is it like a jam tart on steroids?

  30. freep permalink
    June 7, 2009 10:44 PM

    They looked like misshapen Irish muffins to me. I dared not sample them. They had been cooked in Sligo. (Which is not an edible medium).

  31. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 10:49 PM

    Mind you, they say Sligo’s very low in saturated fat…

  32. freep permalink
    June 7, 2009 10:58 PM

    I think you may be confusing it with Mayo. Both counties, but one is delicious and the other is not to be trusted.

  33. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 7, 2009 10:59 PM

    Sligo is the deposit left by bodily fluids around your g-spot.
    14% of Belgians are born middle-aged.
    Bermudans can be found by triangulation.
    Kuwaiti for a bus and 17,000 come along at once.
    Cameron was a counter…

    Must away to bed.

  34. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 11:28 PM

    The BNP win a seat in the European Parliament. There you have it. The sum of 12 years of New Labour. A million dead in Iraq. The gap between the rich and the poor greater than under Thatcher and Fascists have become electable.

    Congratulations Brown, Blair and Mandelson. Your project to destroy the Labour Party is complete. New Labour’s legacy: Lord Sugar and electable Nazis.

  35. pinkroom9 permalink
    June 7, 2009 11:34 PM

    Petrachan and a rhyme for stilletto? Standing on my head.
    If anyone could work in the French* for the slog sweep to cow corner then I really would be impressed.

    “Dynasty” Flint’s keen aimed stilletto
    caught Brown’s, Blears’ nipped, balls, still tender,
    the beast has no repect for her gender!
    (The once gruff Fifer now sings falsetto)
    Then in wades, Charlie Falconer, fat boy,
    (once flat-mate of the odious Tony
    double of chin – he looks a bit pony)
    Gord. no leader, his party he’ll destroy.
    Then somehow, strangely, some old e-mail texts
    twixt Dolly Draper and his moll Mandy
    suggest the Brown blob aint up to the job
    and lacking the appeal of “Tony Sex”-
    suggesting Gordon, aint really handy…
    a nail-bitin numpty, bit of a knob.

    *standard or Clouseau.

  36. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 11:39 PM

    Almost, PR…but : “The first eight lines create an octave, with the rhyme scheme a b b a a b b a. The last six lines make up a sestet and may consist of following rhyme schemes: 1) c d d c d d 2) c d e c d e 3) c d c d c d.” Easy to fix, mind you.

    Very good, anyway…

  37. SidekickMelton permalink
    June 7, 2009 11:40 PM

    I’ll take you up on the Goon offer, Your Grace, and thanks. God knows when I’ll find time to watch them. Mrs M has been quite sarcastic about the deep dent on the sofa where my arse is usually parked to watch TV. Defective springing is hardly my fault.

  38. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 11:41 PM

    Watch them? Suit yourself but I find radio rather boring to watch…

  39. SidekickMelton permalink
    June 7, 2009 11:44 PM

    That BNP seat was predictable. Quite a worry, all the same.

  40. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 11:48 PM

    Frankly shocking and not a little bit horrifying even if predictable. Thanks to the Blairite scumbaggery (and anyone who thinks Brown isn’t a Blairite hasn’t been paying attention) of the last 12 years. I’d like to lynch these New Labour motherfuckers…

  41. mishari permalink*
    June 7, 2009 11:50 PM

    Ha-Ha…Danny Finklestein just called it a triumph for Michael Foot. He’s now no longer the biggest loser in Labour’s history…

  42. SidekickMelton permalink
    June 7, 2009 11:55 PM

    Listen, yes. Watching the results come in is fucking with my head. I’m muting Griffin.

  43. mishari permalink*
    June 8, 2009 12:00 AM

    Yeah. Apparently, lots of Sikhs vote BNP. Oh, I’m sure…

    I’m impeccably urban
    Although I wear a turban;
    I vote for Nazis, yes I do:
    They’ll send us home–farewell, adieu.

  44. pinkroom9 permalink
    June 8, 2009 12:01 AM

    Everything rhymes in Italian though innit…

    Cant you stretch it to abbacddcefgefg or is that a different beast altogether; neither fish nor fowl, lop-sided and ugly… a Gordonian perhaps? A Bruno even?

  45. mishari permalink*
    June 8, 2009 12:06 AM

    We’ll call it a mutated Petrarchan sonnet. I was just being a boring pedant. As I said, it’s very good as it is. I shouldn’t have said anything more than that. Forgive me…

  46. June 8, 2009 10:17 AM

    The BNP don’t just win any seat in the European Parliament, they won MY flaming constituency’s seat in the flaming Parliament!

    GGGGGGGRRRRRRRRR. I’m still beyond words…

  47. June 8, 2009 10:58 AM

    SidekickMelton any chance you could change your user name back to Pathetic Little Sidekick? In these depressing political times when self-esteem levels will be low I was rather looking foward to addressing comments to PLS.

    Shame about Kaufman – he was my MP and on local level he was one of the best especially during the Thatcher years ( which will be coming back soon in a mildly diluted form. )

  48. mishari permalink*
    June 8, 2009 11:33 AM

    Jane Kennedy, the minister of state for the environment, however heaped more pressure on the prime minister by refusing to sign a pledge of loyalty. She was sacked as a minister in the reshuffle of junior posts.

    “In the end I could have stayed if I had given that pledge of loyalty,” Kennedy told Sky News.–Grauniad, today

    The traditions of Himmler’s SS are alive and well in the exciting New Labour Party, I see. Perhaps someone should inform Brown that an MP’s loyalty is, or should be, to his/her constituents.

    Although I daresay, The Feuhrer is busily contemplating his D-Day victory at Obama Beach (as he called it), where he was booed by veterans…

  49. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 8, 2009 11:49 AM

    A bit of a ‘slip freudien’, given that the French seemed keen to erase any British or Commonwealth participation. I watched the first half-hour of coverage from 11 AM on France 2. The word ‘britannique’ made its first appearance at 11:20…

  50. mishari permalink*
    June 8, 2009 11:53 AM

    The bastards. I think we should refuse to export any more English wine and cheeses to France. That’ll learn ’em…

  51. June 8, 2009 1:51 PM

    Mish: as I now have no trust in e-mail, this is just to say that I answered your latest telling you that I didn’t get either of your previous.

  52. mishari permalink*
    June 8, 2009 2:09 PM

    I’m baffled, Bill. I sent 2 emails, one with the Pound-Joyce Letters attached, the other with the Pound-Cummings Letters attached. That was on May 27. Not hearing from you, I assumed they’d somehow gone astray, so I re-sent them this morning.

    I’m baffled. Usually, one is notified if an email isn’t delivered, but as far as Gmail is concerned, all 4 were delivered. I can only suggest you check your spam and junk mail folders. If they aren’t there, email me your postal address and I’ll shoot them over.

  53. pinkroom9 permalink
    June 8, 2009 7:21 PM

    Have made the required fixes. You’re quite right to insist on the full-Petrarchan… rules is rules. You relax the odd stanza and before you know it its 42 inch duck-moats in plasma… thin edge of the effin’ wedge mate and no mistake.

    The Current Situation

    “Dynasty” Flint’s keen aimed stilletto
    caught Brown’s, Blears’ nipped, balls, still tender,
    the beast had no repect for her gender!
    (The once gruff Fifer now sings falsetto)
    Then in wades, Charlie, 100k netto*
    (once flat-mate of Blair, the vile pretender;
    wannabe rockstar, spanking his fender.)
    “Gord. no leader, a wee bit “Tourette”-o.”
    Then somehow, strangely, some old e-mail texts
    ‘twixt Dolly Draper, and his moll Mandy,
    suggest the Brown blob aint up to the job
    and lacking the appeal of “Rocky Sex”-
    suggesting Gordo, aint really handy…
    nail-bitin numpty; a bit of a knob.

    *(poetic licence) His Lord Chancellor’s salary after tax, NI etc.? (As if he paid them??? Probably a lot more???

  54. pinkroom9 permalink
    June 8, 2009 7:33 PM

    I was way off… Change that to 200k netto (plus 100 plus k pension) No wonder Jack Straw’s so keen on not resigning over those poor French kids.

    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_Chancellor

  55. Pathetic little sidekick permalink
    June 8, 2009 11:32 PM

    England 0230 8th June 2009

    A weak, sad, sour and pathetic PM,
    a Labour Party split beyond repair
    its MPs seen as nothing more than scum,
    the scarlet standard stained and threadbare,
    opponents just as venal and corrupt,
    screeching at the Wednesday puppet show
    to get the opportunity to suck
    the bleeding nipples of the public sow.

    Every day the factories are closing,
    the shops are going dark, and the people
    look ahead and see their future: nothing.
    At Westminster they wave their order papers.
    In this ordinary and dangerous hour
    a pallid fatty waddles to power.

  56. Pathetic little sidekick permalink
    June 8, 2009 11:37 PM

    Scraping the brainbarrel now, as you can see.

  57. June 9, 2009 8:30 AM

    Good poem Pathetic Little Sidekick ( feeling better about myself already )

    The slide in Labour’s fortunes has been a short story
    Bad though it be there is still no earthly reason
    To go against your grain and put your faith in a Tory.
    We live in an uncertain political season.

    I sit here disenchanted looking out a window.
    A wind of change is due but right now it’s a no go.

  58. Pathetic little sidekick permalink
    June 9, 2009 12:07 PM

    My mission is to please, Al. An essential first step is to recognise and acknowledge one’s inner sidekick. Only then is true spiritual growth possible. Once that is achieved, the rolling-out of renewal to others can begin. Of course, I could have remained a humourless self-indulgent boor and posted as – I should apologise, I’m allowing negative waves to cloud my healing focus. Perhaps you would be interested in one of my ethically sourced Wellness Crystals. Only £999.99 (cash please).

  59. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 9, 2009 12:43 PM

    This is the trouble when underlings starved of recognition are propelled forward into the spotlight. Unsavoury sell-out. I preferred the rollicking, no-nonsense, down-to-earth double act of Pie & Mash…

  60. mishari permalink*
    June 9, 2009 1:08 PM

    Nothing wrong with mash&mash…especially if you like mash. But should an excess of mash cause discomfort, physical or psychic, you’ll be interested in the Healing Bracelet (£25,000 +VAT).

    Made from a combination of long-lasting polyvinyl chloride and Mayan obsidian, it will balance your chakras, clear your skin and act as a lodestar for Quezlcoatl, the fly reptile, beloved by politicians everywhere. Supplies are limited. I’m down to the last two warehouses full so don’t delay.

  61. June 9, 2009 1:09 PM

    PLS Inner sidekick – very good.

    I’ve always seen myself as being an inner left-back. Anatomically a left-back is necessary for everyone but I’m trying to achieve it on a spiritual level.

  62. June 9, 2009 1:10 PM

    I can offer you inner-mash ( £300,000 for a 20 minute intensive course )

  63. mishari permalink*
    June 9, 2009 1:18 PM

    BTW, MM, after burning those Goon Shows (about 3.5GB) to a DVD, I find I have enough room left for a movie. I can offer you:

    Religulous, Eastern Promises, The International, Arc, Crossing Over, Push, The Great Buck Howard and Tyson. You can check them all out at: http://www.imdb.com/ before making a decision.

  64. Meltonian permalink
    June 9, 2009 4:04 PM

    Thanks, guv. I’ll check them out and get back to you.

  65. June 9, 2009 6:21 PM

    Mish,

    A few days late and a few ingredients short for the relayed cake assignment–and what after all is a Spenserian stanza but a giant rich cakelike confection–but once the light bulb in the brain finally went on, it said “angel food”.

    Oh well, how about a Renaissance angel or two, under glass at

    http://tomclarkblog.blogspot.com/

  66. June 9, 2009 7:06 PM

    The Political System’s Lament

    My pulse-rate is low, there’s barely a beat
    My blood is moving with the aid of a pump
    My body temperature – a plate of cold meat.
    My job description has me down as a lump.

    You try to communicate – you’re out of luck
    You shout, you shriek, you bawl and yell
    You might as well try to talk to a duck
    You might as well, well you might as well.

    They took what they could, not thinking twice
    They sheltered under the code of rules
    They claimed for every habit and vice
    They took you for a bunch of fools.

    I lie here broken on the ground
    I wait for the final dressing down,
    I wait for them to take me to the pound
    I wait for them to put me down.

    In fiction there would be redemption
    This isn’t fiction, there’s no exemption.

  67. June 9, 2009 7:29 PM

    I suppose I’m late with this, but the poet David… (paper rustling)… Bromige (Bromige? Bromige)… died recently and it’s a, you know. His loss…really a blow… (more paper rustling)… anyway. I thought, in keeping with the name of this blog entry, and the overall morbid tone of everyone’s thoughts, I’d like to share (this is not a joke; or, I mean, I did not make this up) Bromide’s…. Bromige’s…. translation of Rilke’s “Autumn” into… “Californian”? ( Californian c. 1970, except for the Starbucks ref., of course; the poem is in two languages, then, in the manner of his master, Ezra Pound).

    Fall
    (Rilke into Californian)

    Man, where’d the time go? Detroit?.
    But summer was really, really great.

    Stand that side of the sundial, will ya?
    I want to dig the shadows.

    Robert Duncan’s freaking in the meadow.

    Those apples can’t get a whole lot riper.
    Give em a couple more hot days.
    My friends who have the winery are already making the wine.

    It’s getting chilly, nights. If you don’t have a pad by now,
    Too bad. If you’re not seeing someone
    You’re likely stuck that way, they went back to school.

    Crack a book yourself. Write in Starbucks.
    Go walkabout downtown. [Time passes]. Hey, lookit
    the leaves, wind, etc. doing their thing. Rustle rustle.
    Contrast and compare yourself. Cool!

  68. mishari permalink*
    June 9, 2009 8:23 PM

    Great stuff, Al…I guess we’re all in a bit of an elegiac mood. Who can blame us?

    Thanks for that, Steven. ‘Contrast and compare yourself. Cool!’ had me laughing like a drain…

    (A pedant writes: Rilke wrote Autumn and Autumn Day. This is a parody of the latter not the former)

  69. Meltonian permalink
    June 9, 2009 8:38 PM

    Digging it, Al, and that Rilke is far out.

    Rather fancy Religulous. OK with you, boss?

  70. mishari permalink*
    June 9, 2009 8:43 PM

    In the post tomorrow, O humble rustic…

  71. Meltonian permalink
    June 9, 2009 11:27 PM

    Thank ‘ee, thank’ee, sir.

    How nice it would be if Griffin got salmonella from his pelting. That enormous salary ought to help with the dry cleaning, though he could now afford to buy a new one every day. The European trough is even deeper than the Westminster one.

  72. mishari permalink*
    June 9, 2009 11:37 PM

    It was amusing watching the speccy berk from the Union Against Fascism or whatever they’re called dismissing the oleaginous Simon Hughes’ assertion that Fascists must be ‘engaged with, debated…’ blahblahblah…

    Actually, my sympathies were entirely with speccy and the egg-throwers. You don’t fucking ‘engage’ with Fascists. You shoot them.

    Oh well…as Mao (quoting Confucius) used to say: “Everything under heaven is in utter chaos; the situation is excellent.”

  73. June 10, 2009 11:28 AM

    For god’s sake let us silt up on the blog
    And tell sad stories of the death of kings
    Some claimed for duck or solid silver bog
    Some jumped, some pushed, some crept into the wings

    To sit the stabbings out; one exits, flings
    A mutinous cry but leaps alone. Like mice
    That snuck to bell the cat, the leader stings
    With fright – he’s all alone with puss: ‘How nice’

    The bloat cat smiles; ‘Now do take my advice
    And sign this pledge’. The antic waits his turn:
    One hand flaps with dismay, one will entice
    With under-table handshake those that burn

    To take a black and venomed little pin
    And kill what we call freedom, they call sin

  74. June 10, 2009 11:36 AM

    Perhaps it’s not Fascism that needs to be engaged with it’s what democracy actually is that needs to be discussed.

    When a group like the BNP who are trying to keep immigrants out can call those who pelt them with eggs anti-democratic it seems to me that the word has become meaningless. I have no idea what democracy is or even if current definitions are a good idea nowadays given what has been done in its name.

  75. June 10, 2009 12:06 PM

    “Perhaps it’s not Fascism that needs to be engaged with it’s what democracy actually is that needs to be discussed.”

    Figureheads like Griffin aren’t possible without some amount of popular support, and they don’t cultivate this support by putting nasty ideas in innocent heads, they do it by learning to channel the murky stuff in those heads like Texaco pumps oil. Griffin’s master (Addy H., he of the mustache) was not a hypnotist he was a mouthpiece.

    Das Volk are a mysterious and terrifying mass, man. Politicians are just Dragon Riders. Clear-thinking, Art-loving, live-and-let-live advocates of a rational heaven-on-earth are in an extreme minority which can only hold its own by being disproportionately creative and articulate (and occasionally seductive).

    I was thinking of all this last night while re-reading the script from “My Dinner with Andre”… a film that was extremely influential on the young me. I thought: imagine the jeers of derision I’d get about five minutes into showing this film to 400 randomly-chosen punters…? The divide is profound and extremely significant. And don’t doubt for a moment that public hangings (as a plausible example of populist barbarity) stand a good chance of coming back, in the not-distant future, as a moral entertainment in various “Western” capitols: the taboo against it is just a fad, innit?

    All of us Art lovers are riding the dragon’s back, too.

    Not that it’s all gloom and doom: we still have old Tex Avery cartoons and Erik Satie to comfort us…

  76. June 10, 2009 12:52 PM

    “jeers of derision”… hmmm. I meant to write “jeers of bloodthirsty derision” but I thought that was a tick too far. Now I’m left with this Guardian-grade pleonasm. Erm… Ed?

  77. June 10, 2009 12:54 PM

    Interestingly enough, last public execution in France took place in June 1939, 15 years after Satie died.

    Which is to say…

  78. freep permalink
    June 10, 2009 1:08 PM

    I wish I had written that poem, exitbarnardine, thanks. I specially liked ‘the bloat cat smiles,’ though I’m not sure why.

  79. June 10, 2009 1:09 PM

    I tend to operate on what I think is a dualist principle – things are both fantastic and awful at the same time.

    We performed at several Spanish fiestas last October. Lovely events and a perfect audience in terms of warmth of reception and curiosity. They “do” big social events very well. Their hyper-explosive firework displays especially in the province of Valencia are extremely anarchic. But the spectre of hard-core Catholic conformity and an extremely odd whiff of racism hang in the air as well.

    There were several street puppet shows about Fats Domino wid de big rubbery lipped puppets, de warty-melon and yassuh boss characterisations that passed without comment. God knows the UK isn’t a saint in this regard but I can’t imagine anyone wanting to do such a show or if they did getting away with it without some form of objection. Perhaps the rise of Nick Griffin will see a return of this form of “entertainment”.

  80. June 10, 2009 1:40 PM

    Well, 14 years.

  81. June 10, 2009 1:42 PM

    Is that on the Mayan calendar…?

  82. June 10, 2009 1:44 PM

    “things are both fantastic and awful at the same time”

    Ain’t that the truth, as they have always been. Dante’s Florence stank to high heaven, Shakespeare’s London was no better. Cue speech from The Third Man.

    Art is not really ameliorative; it’s a secretion, pure and simple.

  83. June 10, 2009 1:50 PM

    Mayan! Don’t look at me in that tone of voice, young man. Now, where are my slippers?

  84. June 10, 2009 1:53 PM

    “Cue speech from The Third Man.”

    Cuckoo!

  85. June 10, 2009 2:11 PM

    The Third Man. My dad was in Vienna at the time the film was set. Freeing the Austrians from the Nazi’s ( not entirely successfully I think ) but at the same time trading Russian soldiers who’d escaped from Stalin after the war with British POW’s in East Europe. Essentially sending them back to be put in the Russian version of the death camps that they’d liberated from the Germans. Although he was a dutiful soldier the experience of doing this affected him profoundly in later life.

    Sorry. Cuckoo too!

  86. June 10, 2009 2:20 PM

    “Art is not really ameliorative; it’s a secretion, pure and simple.”

    Billy, I’d qualify that (my appreciation of the artistic secretion notwithstanding) with the confession that making Art, and being lost in the perception of it, is the only kind of escapism I need in order to cope with the ugly banalities of life in the belly of the imperial whale of the American profitsphere. Fuckme, if not for the buffer of my daughter’s giggle or my Beloved’s grace or the pleasure of getting a line just right… this Humanity mess would be unbearable.

  87. mishari permalink*
    June 10, 2009 2:24 PM

    I think Steven’s right. Fascism is really nothing more than the expression or distillation of human stupidity, envy, cruelty and viciousness. What’s to be done? Search me…fight the good fight, try to create beauty as far as one is able, point out and mock stupidity, cruely and ugliness…

    …but as you say, the majority of people not only prefer Bruce Willis blowing things up to My Dinner With Andre (haven’t seen it in 25 years but loved it at the time) but, were it in their power (and I’m not sure it isn’t) would insist on all films featuring Bruce or a clone blowing things up.

    And the talkers? The thinkers? The arty-farty crowd who don’t live in the real world, who aren’t like us?

    Weeellll…they’re surplus to requirements, surely? In fact, why don’t we just kill the fuckers, seeing as how they’re so weird.

    Maybe I am weird, but not so weird that I don’t know how to shoot Fascist pin-heads…

  88. June 10, 2009 2:24 PM

    Ah yes, for the maker art is a different thing, I was thinking of that great beast, society. But for us “artists”, however humble, “the pleasure of getting a line just right” is the very thing, life itself. Like hitting the perfect cover drive or bowling the perfect leg break, I’d imagine.

  89. Zephirine permalink
    June 10, 2009 2:27 PM

    Last time I watched The Third Man, I thought actually that speech sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s clever and interesting, but it’s speechifying, and nobody else in the film talks like that at all. Still, everybody remembers it, which is no doubt what Orson was after.

    Excellent poem, exitb!

    By the way, is any of you guys haveabiscuit, or is he/she somebody else? Sometimes the Books Blog gets like a rep theatre with people playing a different role every time they come on stage… I get confused…

  90. mishari permalink*
    June 10, 2009 2:29 PM

    …erm, that would be me, zeph. Sorry, I just felt like a different user name.

  91. Zephirine permalink
    June 10, 2009 2:37 PM

    Hah! Thought the voice sounded familiar.

  92. June 10, 2009 2:55 PM

    Have to disagree a tad with this idea of the common mass. Not because there isn’t one but because in my experience a lot of people are perfectly capable of a deep appreciation of unconventional ways of making art it’s just that there’s a lot happening in their lives which doesn’t make it as vital or as significant as it is for the likes of us. As to preferring Bruce Willis – it’s often all that’s offered up to them in ways that are easy to access. I’m not at all saying that should the likes of Dinner with Andre be playing in 3 of the 8 multiplex screens it will have huge audiences but that it’s not black or white it’s grey.

    Working outside I’m consistently taken aback by the reactions to what we do from the most unlikely of sources. Granted we’re not at the extreme Bob Cobbing or Viennese Aktionists ( to use 2 examples ) end of experimentation but neither are we at the X factor end.

    But otherwise Steven puts it about right.

  93. June 10, 2009 2:59 PM

    “Haveabiscuit”? Christ! And: was it you as a faux Spaniard, or an Obooki sock puppet, I crossed swords with in that Sam Jordison Bible thread blow-out of two years back? If so: well-played. The only time I’ve ever lost my cool in a debate. You crafty devil. And speaking of Harry Lime…

  94. mishari permalink*
    June 10, 2009 3:13 PM

    Not me, Steven. I think I only made one comment on that thread and it wasn’t especially controversial…

    Al, I’m sure your’re right and I was over-simplifying…however, the masses, for want of a better word, usually feel fucked over, for the very good reason that they are, royally so. It seems to be pitifully easy to manipulate their resentment and direct it against…well, take your pick…Jews, blacks, intellectuals, immigrants etc, etc, instead of where it should be aimed: the corporate/military conspiracy that’s fucking up so many lives…

  95. June 10, 2009 3:26 PM

    Thanks freep, zeph. The ‘bloat cat’ is nicked from Hamlet’s ‘bloat king’, obviously.

    Must say I’m surprised no one’s mentioned the Illuminati in all of this discussion about who runs the world. Open your eyes, people. There are posters all over Berlin right now, warning about them. My German’s not good but it apparently has something to do with Tom Hanks.

  96. June 10, 2009 3:47 PM

    XB:

    Shouldn’t you rather be focusing your paranoia on the “Korperwelt” posters everywhere (one of which, from the series, juxtaposes a flexing nude Rhine-maiden with a flayed corpse)…?

  97. mishari permalink*
    June 10, 2009 3:52 PM

    That’s gratitude for you. Tom Hanks is saving us from..erm…not quite sure, but it’s bad. What’s more, he’s doing it for a measly $50 million a year. Respeck…

  98. June 10, 2009 4:09 PM

    @SA

    Dr Gunther von Hagens’s Travelling Carnival of the Performing Dead (for such I belive ’tis) visited Whitechapel a few years back for a residency.

    My girlfriend lived one street up from Brick Lane at the time. There were posters everywhere. He yowza’d up a crowd with an ‘illegal’ live TV autopsy. Now if there’s one place the top-hatted departed belong, it’s Whitechapel, where the ghoulish Doctor could rely on drop-ins from the Jack the Ripper guided tours.

    On which subject, when does atrocity become fun, marketable history?
    Some of these murder-guides wear full ‘Saucy Jack’ costume. Like seeing a cheerful tour guide on Wilhelmstrasse dressed as Hitler.

  99. June 10, 2009 4:24 PM

    People! (blurted sigh)

  100. June 10, 2009 4:41 PM

    When does atrocity become fun, marketable history? I think it depends on the social group who have had the atrocity committed to them doesn’t it? Prostitutes featuring low on the scale of those who are going to raise a stink when the slaughter of their kind is turned into a tourist event.

  101. June 10, 2009 5:03 PM

    Getting to the question of democracy, I said to a friend the other day that I couldn’t believe that what it had come to was that people would vote for a party based on such pointless reasons that we might as well all just turn up and tick random boxes. She said “Well that’s democracy isn’t it? Being given the freedom to throw it all away.”

    So I bought a car the other day, I can’t actually drive yet, but I’m learning. I have to go through countless tests to prove that I am able to drive it sensibly and not be a danger on the roads. But people given the vote can just point it wherever they want and plough down everybody in the way. They don’t have to prove that they know how to use it or that they can cast it sensibly. This is wrong, but I’m not sure what to do about it. Is it the sad fact that true democratic freedom means the right to vote against democracy (as in voting for parties who will not represent all the people – only the ones they approve of)?

    I know the people who protest vote for the BNP, they’re the people who are nice and friendly to all people they meet in the pub, but when they notice there are no people of a different race in the pub they proudly tell a racist joke to anyone who’s listening.

  102. freep permalink
    June 10, 2009 5:07 PM

    Among the British illuminati would be Mandelson. He loves power as the Owl loves the mouse caught in the clearing. And when parties collapse, as they are doing all around, such a latter-day Rosicrucian should be watched. Even if you loathe him, his footwork has to be admired.

    Whence cometh thy biscuit, o mighty one? I am unaccustomed to swapping doggerel with a jaffa cake.

    Kennedy’s GU blogs make a nice little playground, as alarming and I are finding. She doesn’t take herself too seriously, but can write.

  103. June 10, 2009 5:16 PM

    @Polly

    Each vote should be weighted. The voting form would include a multiple choice questionaire on the policies of the parties and on international and national political events since the previous election.

    Individual parties’ leaflets and other crap would be banned and each voter would be issued with a document several months before the election; this would contain a summary of political events and each party’s manifestoes and policy pledges. All you’d have do is read it a couple of times to be able to answer the questions. Just read the thing and try to make an informed choice. Every question you get right gives your vote an extra credit. Like a Nectar card but for democracy.

    And obviously, the private contract for the production of these leaflets would go to the Daily Mail group.

  104. June 10, 2009 5:46 PM

    Is there still time for me to work the carefully-crafted neologism “Illuminutty” into the conversation?

  105. June 10, 2009 5:56 PM

    SA yes

  106. mishari permalink*
    June 10, 2009 7:29 PM

    freep, a Jaffa cake is erm…a cake, not a biscuit (although this is a matter for fevered debate on CiF).

    Actually, I was typing in user names (arttatum, deusexmachina, countbasie, et al)…and snarling with frustration at their all being taken when one of my sons said “have a biscuit”, et voilà

    …and a very nice biscuit it was, too. Very like a Mint Milano, a biscuit made in the US by the estimable Pepperidge Farm but sadly unavailable here.

    Actually, XB, your method is far too cumbersome and requires too much effort on the part of the mouth-breathers. What should happen is the contenders should be put into an arena, one at a time, armed with a short-sword and scutum or trident and net and fight a crowd of angry voters. Fights to the death, natch.

    Winner gets to hold office for 12 months before being tested by combat again . In the meantime, they are paid nothing and live like Spartans–gruel 3 times a day, sleep on stone floors, 25-mile runs with full-pack daily.
    When they reach the end of a 12-month period and there are no voters angry enough to want to kill them, they get the easy life–a good salary, etc. We’d soon sort the wheat from the chaff…

    BTW, XB, I’m sending along Blood Meridian with the music. It gnaws at me in the long night watches that you haven’t read it..

  107. June 10, 2009 7:49 PM

    “…and a very nice biscuit it was, too. Very like a Mint Milano, a biscuit made in the US by the estimable Pepperidge Farm but sadly unavailable here.”

    I loved how the old coot in the commercial would say, “Peprij faaum”

  108. mishari permalink*
    June 10, 2009 7:55 PM

    Goldfish were good, too…as you mentioned the great Tex Avery, here he is at his best:

  109. June 10, 2009 9:46 PM

    Ha ha! My daughter’s ne plus ultra is the proto-Sylvester-and-Tweety “The Cuckoo Clock”… but *this* one you’ve turned us on to is take-one-abackishly sexy isn’t it? And funny as allfuck, too.

  110. June 10, 2009 10:27 PM

    Non sequitur time again. Anyone else think that the second sentence in the following couplet (authored by a “Shanna Moakler”) deserves a t-shirt of its own?

    “First and foremost, my faith has been restored in the Miss Universe Organization and with Donald Trump. I believed eventually what I intimately knew would come to fruition,” Moakler said.

    I BELIEVED EVENTUALLY WHAT I INTIMATELY KNEW WOULD COME TO FRUITION.

    Excellent campaign slogan. Make a decent mantra, too.

  111. mishari permalink*
    June 10, 2009 10:30 PM

    Apparently, when this cartoon premiered, the audience went batshit and refused to quiet down until it was shown again, which it was.

    …and you’re right, it is wildly sexy, at least for a 1943 Warner Bros cartoon…

    Re: that slogan sounds like it might actually mean something, I mean once you pick the bones out of it. And how could anyone doubt Donald? The Walnut Whip on top of his head has made him a deity to me for years. I keep expecting it to talk or eat his tie or something…

  112. June 10, 2009 11:29 PM

    Sounds like Donald Rumsfeld arguing with himself

  113. mishari permalink*
    June 10, 2009 11:34 PM

    There’s something fishy about Donalds. Trump, Rumsfeld, Duck, Ronald McDonald, Donald Where’s Your Troosers…

  114. pinkroom9 permalink
    June 11, 2009 7:08 AM

    Osmond?

  115. June 11, 2009 8:50 AM

    Donald Duck is at least honest as to his intentions – he says failing once again to distinguish between art and real life.

  116. June 11, 2009 9:02 AM

    BTW: a rather better David Bromige poem here:

    http://hypsarrythmia.livejournal.com/162288.html

    Donald Sutherland?

  117. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 9:05 AM

    Osmond, very definitely. Don Rickles. Don Ho. Don Quixote. Quietly Flows The Don. Oxford Don. Don Bogart That Joint, My Friend…I see a pattern emerging….

  118. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 9:13 AM

    I notice, Bill, that Bromige was published by Black Sparrow Press, as was your friend Cid Corman and our friend Tom Clark…

    Donald O’Connor (of Francis The Talking Mule fame, although he later redeemed himself in films like Singin’ In The Rain), Ramsay Macdonald, Donald Dewar, Don Ameche, Don Juan, Don Corleone…

  119. June 11, 2009 9:36 AM

    Not forgetting The Don Flows Down To The Sea and Donald Sinden.

    Black Sparrow published a lot of very good books, not least a lot of Wyndham Lewis’s novels and the writings of Charles Reznikoff, as well as Cid and Tom. The one problem I have with them is the choice of paper for the covers, whic gets grubby from being looked at.

  120. June 11, 2009 9:39 AM

    And one to break the rule; the ineffable Don Bradman.

  121. June 11, 2009 9:58 AM

    LonDon

  122. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 10:18 AM

    Doncaster. Donatello. Donut…

  123. June 11, 2009 10:18 AM

    Doncaster, Donegal and scenic CroyDon.

  124. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 10:21 AM

    The Devils of LouDon; Ruby, Don Take Your Love To Town; Don Van Vliet; Don Henley; Don Perignon, BasilDon, SwinDon, HenDon; You Don Need A Weatherman To Know Which Way The Wind Blows…

  125. June 11, 2009 10:41 AM

    This sinister Don conspiracy doesn’t just stop at names does it? It’s subtly creeping into verbs too – ConDone, Don’t, parDon,

    Where will it all end? is it over?

  126. June 11, 2009 10:58 AM

    Don de don don
    Don de don de don
    Do de don de don don don don

    I’m in love with the girl who lives
    in the house with the whitewashed gable
    and I won’t rest
    until she marries me.

    (it is now)

  127. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 11:09 AM

    Don bet on it…

  128. June 11, 2009 11:24 AM

    DeLillo. Knotts. Novello.

  129. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 11:27 AM

    How could I have forgotten the hyperthyroid Knotts? He was easily the best character in the Andy Griffith Show, him and Gomer…and hasn’t Opie come a long way? Apparently, posters of his latest film cover the walls of Berlin, causing XB concern…

  130. June 11, 2009 11:35 AM

    Don Delouise, the ultimate superhero… we wouldn’t be in this political mess if “Him” were here.

    But perhaps the best Don of all – Perignon!

    Is the song “Donald where’s your troosers?” about Donald Duck? He seems not to perceive the need for trousers, I would have thought if a chap was going to go semi-naked the preferred option would be to keep the trousers on, but then again he’s a duck so it’s probably all different…

  131. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 11:38 AM

    Not unless Donald Duck was from the Isle of Skye:

    1. I’ve just come down from the Isle of Skye,
    I’m no very big and I’m awful shy,
    And the lassies shout when I go by,
    ” Donald where’s your troosers.”

    Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low,
    Through the streets in my kilt I’ll go,
    And all the lassies shout hello
    Donald where’s your troosers.

    2. A Lassie took me to a ball
    And it was slippery in the hall
    And I was feart that I would fall
    Fur I hadnae on ma’ troosers

    Chorus

    3. I went down to London Town
    And I had some fun in the underground
    The ladies turned their heads around
    Saying “Donald where’s your troosers”.

    Chorus

    4. To wear the kilt is my delight
    It isna wrong, I know its right
    The islanders would get a fright
    If they saw me in the troosers

    Chorus

    5. They’d like to wed me everywan
    Just let them catch me if they can
    You cannae tak’ the breeks aff a Hielan’ man
    And I don’t wear the troosers

    Chorus

  132. June 11, 2009 11:45 AM

  133. June 11, 2009 12:15 PM

    Hm. Seems it’s just a coincidental Donald thing to be without trousers then.

  134. June 11, 2009 12:32 PM

    Just like Don Juan.

  135. June 11, 2009 12:33 PM

    You rarely see the lower half of Donald Rumsfeld so perhaps he waged war on Iraq with no trousers on. Perhaps his catch phrase ” Stuff happens” refers to something else????

  136. June 11, 2009 12:59 PM

    Is Trumps’ wig a way of distracting attention from his bare legs?

  137. June 11, 2009 1:20 PM

    Are Don DeLillo’s novels a way of distracting attention from his lack of trousers?

  138. freep permalink
    June 11, 2009 1:30 PM

    Donatello’s statues had no trousers. Statues don’t suit trousers.

  139. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 11, 2009 1:34 PM

    Don O’Van wore a kaft’an

  140. June 11, 2009 1:38 PM

    I once loaned Don O’Van a plectrum at a gig; he never gave it back. Still grates to this day.

  141. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 1:41 PM

    It seems to me I recently read something on the very subject of trousers leading to the impossibility of dignified statuary. I think there’s a great deal of truth to it. Anyone can attain gravitas in a toga or a wolfskin…but trousers? They just end up looking like the man that’s come to read the meter.

    One of the Everly Brothers was Don. I’m ashamed to admit I missed them once. I attended a concert by Mountain when I was about 15. The Everly Bros. were on afterwards, but I left because they were, you know…boring, man. What a fucking idiot I was. I probably missed them doing this:

    …or this:

  142. June 11, 2009 2:05 PM

    Mish if those with trousers look like they’ve come to read the meter what do those without trousers look like?

    Someone, somewhere described Emmylou Harris’ voice of wrapping around Gram Parson’s voice like a glove. He isn’t that brilliant but together they are heart-breaking – a genuine chemistry I think.

  143. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 2:23 PM

    Absolutely, Al. I think Parson’s real strength was as a songwriter. I mean, he had a pleasant enough voice but nothing special.

    However, when you add Emmy Lou…magic happens. The LP Grievous Angel has been much loved by me for almost 40 years now.
    And, having seen her recently, I can attest that Emmy Lou is as lovely in form and voice as she ever was…

    The ones without trousers look like champions of the Republic, even the tyrants. A toga’ll do that. Even George the Third looked passable in a toga…

  144. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 11, 2009 2:25 PM

    Lovely pun, Billy.

    I once went to a Mountain concert when I was 15.

    Lovely Grammy and Emmy. Tried looking for Oscar and Bafta singing Return of the Grievous Angel but this is the best I could do:

  145. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 2:38 PM

    Here’s Mountain at their best, (although Theme For etc, a Jack Bruce song, is terrific):

  146. freep permalink
    June 11, 2009 3:21 PM

    There are bad statues and appalling statues, and all the bad ones wear trousers, and this is the worst statue I have ever seen, of poor old Nye Bevan in Cardiff. Would you wear bronze trews?

    (Truly, that is one of the worst statues I’ve ever seen. What did the poor man do to deserve that?Ed.)

  147. June 11, 2009 3:33 PM

    I knew someone who worked as his one of Henry Moore’s assistants. Sadly towards the end of his life when demands for his work were high he used to just make a tiny maquette and get his assistants to scale’em up and knock ’em out. A pair of bronze plus fours could have distracted attention away from this production-line approach which did him no favours.

  148. June 11, 2009 3:33 PM

    Talking of trousers I once went out with a bloke who was trying to prove that the universe was shaped like a pair of trousers – for his physics PhD. I rather hoped he wasn’t basing it on his own trousers which were rather too long in the crotch. You don’t want a universe all filled with its own importance do you? Maybe our universe would “stuff” to look tough to all the other universes (universi?) …

  149. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 6:52 PM

    …here’s a song about a trouser-shaped universe…well, sort of:

  150. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 11, 2009 7:30 PM

    Great clip. That was the year when I realised what a great guitar player Becker was. The trumpeter is keeping an eye on his wife. And Cornelius on tenor is no longer with us. This blog is becoming, episodically, a musical treasure trove…

  151. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 7:44 PM

    Me too, about Becker, I mean. When Fagen released The Firefly, his first (I think) solo LP, I remember thinking ‘…so what did the other guy do?’. It sounded indistinguishable from a Steely Dan LP. Now I know what the other guy did…

  152. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 11, 2009 7:55 PM

    Nightfly, Mish. But it’s uncanny how your musical tastes mirror mine.

  153. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 8:01 PM

    Nightfly, right…I was listening to Two Against Nature today and thinking that it was remarkable that after a recording hiatus of almost 20 years (together, anyway) Becker and Fagen could release an LP that felt and sounded like a seamless part of their continuum.

    But I was always a great Steely Dan admirer. Sly, tight, witty, referential music; funny, intelligent lyrics–what’s not to like?

  154. June 11, 2009 8:08 PM

    Oh dear. As it happens I’m Steely Dan-obsessed (even really like Fagin’s solo stuff; remember Karmakiriad?). Better avoid this one (for the sake of the rest of my evening)… but I will say that the greatesat instr. break in popular music history appears in “Do It Again”…

  155. June 11, 2009 8:09 PM

    ooops. Fagin?

  156. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 8:18 PM

    I’ve got the lot, Steven. Every SD LP and Kamakiriad. In an era of witless cock-rock, sub-Tolkienesque elf-drivel, followed by punk (which I loved but most of which was, on reflection, crap), New Wave, basically blow-dried punk (obviously, there were some great bands–Graham Parker and The Rumour, Elvis Costello and The Attractions, XTC, Buzzcocks, et al)–Steely Dan were an oasis of intelligence and craftsmanship. I cherish them still.

    I can’t say I’m in the least bit surprised you like them, too…any major dude will tell you:


    .
    .


    .
    .

  157. June 11, 2009 9:10 PM

    The odd thing was that Jeff “Skunk” Baxter was obviously straining at the leash to be a witless cock-rock guitarist which he managed to achieve post- Steely Dan but was obviously held in check by the bandleaders.

    I must confess I like their first 2 albums especially the first one but got more interested in other music when it came to their later stuff.

  158. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    June 11, 2009 9:13 PM

    From cock-rock to missile defence consultant. He had licks, chops and a moustache…

  159. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 9:29 PM

    Funnily enough, I watched a hilarious documentary recently called Overnight. The story of a Boston bartender whose script was picked up by Harvey Weinstein (Miramax Films) and who came a cropper by being the most colossally obnoxious prick I’ve ever encountered in my life, and I’ve met some beauties. 15 minutes into the film and you’re thinking ‘I can’t wait for this jerk to fall on his face’. He more than obliges.

    Thing is, not only was this idiot going to knock Scorcese et al into a cocked hat but he was a rock god as well. Of course, he really fucked that up as well. They brought in Jeff ‘Skunk’ Baxter to produce the LP and watching ‘Skunk’, a virtuoso guitarist trying to be diplomatic about the idiot’s (was it Troy something?[Troy DuffyEd]) playing was hilarious.

    He’s still got the walrus ‘tache…and speaking of matters tonsorial, this just in:

    70 Year-Old Man Is Bald Shock

  160. Captain Ned permalink
    June 11, 2009 9:49 PM

    I have recently come across an important piece of news I just had to share with you all. Julie Taymor is to direct a Broadway musical show of Spiderman, with songs by Bono and The Edge.

    http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/7909772.stm

    This must be prevented at all costs.

  161. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 9:53 PM

    Thanks, Cap’n. You’ve just ruined my evening. Never mind. I shall lull myself to sleep counting ways to kill Bongo (which I learned from Al is what Beefheart called him)…

  162. pinkroom9 permalink
    June 11, 2009 10:00 PM

    Didn’t Jeff Skunk Baxter become a general/strategist in the CIA or pentagon… I may be wrong? They should re-name him Donald Skunk, or something.

    Agree he was a great guitar player though.

    Hot and cold with Gram Parsons… about five songs are utterly brilliant but an awful lot of count. rock trebley chooglin too… the telecaster can be a horrible instrument at times. The EP would have been immaculate though. Brass Buttons is a particular fave and that other one with “…but that wont keep you warm at night…” line. Cant remember the title… Hot Burritos??? Taco Johnny’s??? Reminds me of my er… courting days, even more evocatively than Teaser and the Firecat. A terrible (in a good way). aching tone to that one. Further proof you can be a bad but great singer.

    Shame he should die with ice-cubes up his jacksie, an unworthy end.

  163. Captain Ned permalink
    June 11, 2009 10:00 PM

    I love the way that link I posted has the word ‘entertainment’ in the page address. A Broadway muscial show of Spiderman with songs by Otis Lee Crenshaw and John Shuttleworth – now that’s something I’d like to see happen.

  164. Captain Ned permalink
    June 11, 2009 10:03 PM

    Grievous Angel is a great record, but I’ve come to prefer GP, if only for ‘A Song for You’, which is one of the loveliest duets I’ve heard.

  165. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 10:19 PM

    I love them both, Cap’n but I think that perhaps because I came to Grievous Angel first (despite it being later than GP) it has a stronger hold on me. Plus, great stuff like Cash On The Barrelhead, Return Of The Grievous Angel, Hearts On Fire, In My Hour of Darkness and Love Hurts are just so good…plus, Parsons and The Flying Burritos opened the door for people like the great Steve Earle:

  166. Meltonian permalink
    June 11, 2009 10:38 PM

    Surely Caravanserai has the finest instrumental break in pop history. There’s a moment (All the Love of the Universe?) when Santana’s guitar seems to take a tin-opener to the can of perception.

  167. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 10:38 PM

    Pinkroom, Baxter did indeed become a missile defence geek. Even worse, according to wiki:

    He also occasionally plays in The Coalition of the Willing, a band comprising Andras Simonyi, Hungarian Ambassador to the United States; Alexander Vershbow, US Ambassador to South Korea; Daniel B. Poneman, formerly of the United States National Security Council and now of The Scowcroft Group; and Lincoln Bloomfield, former United States Assistant Secretary of State for Political-Military Affairs. On June 19, 2007, Baxter jammed with former White House Press Secretary Tony Snow’s band Beats Workin at the Congressional Picnic held on the South Lawn of the White House.–wiki

    …the horror, the horror…

  168. June 11, 2009 10:41 PM

    Just Bono and the Edge? The other 2 obviously had more sense or are writing songs for Animatronic Wombles on Ice – The Musical to be directed by Sir Peter Hall.

    Personally I’d like to see Bono fall over the edge .

  169. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 10:43 PM

    And the winner of this week’s Outstandingly Patchouli-Scented Bean Sucking Sandal-Wearing Acid-Gobbling Hippy Phrase is….(drum roll)…Meltonian for ‘takes a tin-opener to the can of perception’…congratulations and peace, man.

  170. Captain Ned permalink
    June 11, 2009 10:47 PM

    As we speak, Sirs Bob Geldof and Trevor Nunn are collaborating on a musical version of ‘The Dark Knight’. Christian Bale is reportedly not happy…

  171. June 11, 2009 10:53 PM

    Mishari that wiki update on Skunk’s latest band renders the Lost in Showbiz blogs null and void. I think I’d rather have Angelina Jolie commenting on sub-Saharan health policy than know that the US ambassador to South Korea trades hot guitar licks with the Hungarian ambassador. I can’t believe that piece of info is not a set-up.

  172. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 11:05 PM

    I know it seems improbable, until you read the whole wiki entry–then it makes perfect sense. Baxter’s a fine guitarist but a moral imbecile…

  173. Meltonian permalink
    June 11, 2009 11:08 PM

    Thank you. Neal Innes’ solo on Canyons of your Mind is also a contender.

  174. pinkroom9 permalink
    June 11, 2009 11:20 PM

    Horror indeed.

    Can there really be a Daniel B. Poneman, or a Lincoln Bloomfield, or do they give them these ludicrous handles upon entering the Military/Industrial complex and/or professional golf?

    Perm three from:

    Old Testamentish/previous president first name.
    Random/unlikely Middle name initials
    Surname with vague potential for inspiring behoof.

    add an “as if” jr. third or fourth to taste.

  175. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 11:21 PM

    I think I posted Intro To The Outro before, but here’s perhaps my favourite Bonzos track aside from that:

  176. June 11, 2009 11:25 PM

    Meltonian extraordinary! I was just thinking of the Innes solo. Not the first time this has happened. Are you quite sure you are not my brother? Do you recall being at Taunton Art College in 1970?

    I’d also add the solo in You Really got Me which is only marginally less bonkers than the Innes one. Possibly more bonkers as Dave Davies was doing it seriously.

  177. Meltonian permalink
    June 11, 2009 11:30 PM

    Their version of The Sound of Music is immortal. Beautiful Zelda, Hello Mabel, Hunting Tigers out in India… an endless list.

  178. mishari permalink*
    June 11, 2009 11:30 PM

    Here’s The Canyons Of Your Mind:

    …and The Kinks doing You Really Got Me:

    ..and because, as MM says, there are so many good ones:

  179. Meltonian permalink
    June 11, 2009 11:42 PM

    Well, my memory is not what it was, Al, so a brother or two might have escaped me. If you are exceedingly rich I think it’s time for a renewal of the unbreakable sibling bond.

  180. June 12, 2009 1:05 AM

    Jeezis Kee-RIST. Step off the train to piss on a bush and it’s 30km gone when I limp-run (dripping) back to the tracks…

  181. June 12, 2009 8:45 AM

    Meltonian Me rich? looks like it will be a distant Xmas card once every 2 years sort of relationship then

  182. June 12, 2009 10:04 AM

    Considering how basically harmonious our tastes in music are, why not form a Virtual Band? (*He said, not entirely sure to what degree he was joking…*)

  183. June 12, 2009 10:11 AM

    @SA

    Unless you were the guy busking a power ballad on the S-bahn from Warschauwer Strasse last night around 11.30, then I’m up for it.

  184. June 12, 2009 10:36 AM

    That wasn’t me, XB! (Me and Stumpy Joe, we do it in shifts, you see…)

  185. June 12, 2009 10:39 AM

    What’ll you be, then, XB… lead singer? Double-necked dragon guitar or SpyroGyra-type Keytar-wizard… ?

    Anyone else in? I can be the Virtual Tour Manager.

    Suggested initial name possibilities:

    1. Demeaning of Life

    2. All Gay Babies

    3. Erm

  186. June 12, 2009 10:43 AM

    (M: start getting those lyrics ready… we play Budokan in a week)

  187. June 12, 2009 10:45 AM

    My hearing is shot but I’m quite prepared to be the roadie – I’ve got one eye on the possibility of “memoirs” revealing “the truth” in the future.

  188. June 12, 2009 10:49 AM

    Al!

    Excellent. We’re nothing without our very own solecism-stuffed tell-all roadie-memoir. Don’t forget the time I fisted a chicken in the green-room jacuzzi whilst K (so famous she goes by one initial) looked on in bemused/bespattered horror. (That chicken-fisting rider in the contract was a brilliant idea, btw… whose was it?)

  189. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 10:49 AM

    The Power Cords. First LP–My Server’s Down

    The Blue Screens of Death. First LP–Insufficient Memory

  190. June 12, 2009 10:52 AM

    M: we’ll be needing about…. 20 songs?

  191. June 12, 2009 10:53 AM

    Get cracking! Budokan’s a sell-out!

  192. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 10:57 AM

    I should have thought, given that everyone who posts here is a talented wordsmith, songwriting duties might be shared…?

    Budokan? Jesus…I never hear the word without thinking of the late, unlamented Cheap Trick, a band that made me want to kill things, mainly Cheap Trick…

  193. June 12, 2009 11:00 AM

    The Trick are opening for us man…

  194. June 12, 2009 11:01 AM

    SA I haven’t forgotten that you fisted a chicken. Why do you think I’m the way I am.

    But false-memory syndrome being the way it is I should make a killing not only on book sales but on the chat show circuit where I break down in tears and confess that it was all a bunch of lies then I get my own reality TV series where I try and conquer my demons in rehab. Then……….

    Future’s looking good.

  195. June 12, 2009 11:01 AM

    Lead singer suits me. I’ve got chops; I’ve been kicked out of some great bands. I also play a mean guitar (although I have been known to take it all too far on occasion).

    My current project, Energy Dictator, is rehearing and writing songs back in London ready for my return. The aim is to sound like Black Sabbath or the Stooges, whichever’s easier.

    I’m flexible regarding genre, though. Chamber pop, anyone? Here’s a great reason why:

    http://www.myspace.com/grizzlybear

  196. June 12, 2009 11:03 AM

    Al:

    Pretty hard to forget since I eat/sleep/shower in that t-shirt (I HEART FISTING CHICKENS) Mick autographed , innit?

  197. June 12, 2009 11:05 AM

    XB:

    Too late, man. I’ve already decided to go solo. Which is pretty hard, since I’m only the Tour Manager. But it’s something I need to do at this creative juncture of my life etc. Still, there’ll always be the lucrative two-date reunion blow out at… Budokan!

  198. June 12, 2009 11:07 AM

    Mishari if we share song-writing duties it opens up the possibility for squabbling over who really wrote what, court-cases, tell-all articles in the press and thus even more fame and money through self-degradation.

  199. June 12, 2009 11:08 AM

    No problem. I was feeling stifled, anyway. Good luck with the EP. Give Tappy my best (and tell him to stop hassling chicks in the loading bay. The white zone is for loading and unloading only…).

  200. June 12, 2009 11:10 AM

    Can I sue for stolen royalties yet?

  201. June 12, 2009 11:13 AM

    SA It was great never having worked with you.

  202. June 12, 2009 11:13 AM

    Billy, you’re already our Harry Smith. Royalties don’t come into it.

  203. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 11:13 AM

    Be patient, Bill. Soon come. Order the yacht now and avoid the rush…

    I must say, I’m looking forward to Tappy Al’s book, which of course, I will rebutt with my own book that tells the real story of…can’t remember what we were called…must be the drugs…

  204. June 12, 2009 11:17 AM

    Have I mentioned already that I’ve slept with two of you fellers’ mistresses (who happened to be my wife)…?

    (Put it in the book, Al)

  205. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 11:23 AM

    My book will make clear that I wrote all the biggest hits and we broke up because I outgrew you lot. Mind you, that troupe of Japanese contortionists you lot married didn’t help…

  206. June 12, 2009 11:26 AM

    The Japanese contortionist I married turned out to be my father.

    I didn’t write any of the hits but with the right lawyers I should win my claim to full royalties.

  207. June 12, 2009 11:29 AM

    I intend to dedicate my significant profile to higlighting the plight of Venezualan flume-weasels by adopting as many of them as possible.

    They are increasingly vulnerable to attack and violence from the local peoples due to their overpowering stench, unquenchable bloodlust and lack of nutritional value. 0.08% of royalties from my new album, Song of the Flume-Weasel, will go to protecting these endangered, misunderstood and revolting creatures.

  208. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 11:30 AM

    It’s all become so sordid. It was never about the $500 million I have stashed away in…never mind where; for me, it was always about the music.

    Of course, that’s the difference between an artist like myself and a bunch of desperate 3-chord chancers like you lot…

    Flume Weasels? Any bandwagon’ll do, eh? You and Bongo deserve each other…

  209. June 12, 2009 11:31 AM

    *My* book will feature a forward by Bono, only it’ll be called a “backward” because the book will be printed in reverse (to be read with a mirror)… because (have I mentioned this already?)… I’m kindof an Illuminati. Not bragging. Just factual, as it happens. Oh: and that’s not a rug… that’s Bono’s real hair (it’s a pretty long one, at that).

    (Al: I don’t know if you remember this but it *should* go in your book… when we found Jacko’s nose in the seafood salad after the “I Am The World” gig! Ha ha! Fucking priceless.)

  210. June 12, 2009 11:34 AM

    XB:

    You ARE aware that “flume-weasel” is my long-standing pet name for my… erm… ?

    You’ll be seeing me in court, man!

  211. June 12, 2009 11:36 AM

    My lawyers have instructed me to sue you all for writing comments on this blog which, in a lengthy court battle they will prove to have been written by me.

  212. June 12, 2009 11:43 AM

    Just got off the phone with my lawyer, Al. Turns out I built your giant pig. The Floyd will also be hearing from me for having ripped my idea off 30 years before I had it. It’s a new field, called retrospective counter-royalties.

  213. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 11:43 AM

    I am here as you are here as you are me
    and we are all together
    See how they run like pigs from a gun
    see how they fly
    I’m crying

    I am the eggman
    they are the eggmen
    I am the walrus
    Goo goo g’ joob…see you in court.

  214. June 12, 2009 11:46 AM

    @SA
    ‘You ARE aware that “flume-weasel” is my long-standing pet name for my… erm… ?’

    As I said, endangered, misunderstood and revolting. My awareness is full. (OuchEd.)

  215. June 12, 2009 11:53 AM

    XB I’ll be hearing from my own lawyers.

  216. June 12, 2009 11:55 AM

    XB:

    Wait…. I….

  217. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 12:03 PM

    The music business: a system devised by lawyers to keep them rolling in money and to keep money out of the hands of musicians, who are a notoriously feckless bunch.

  218. June 12, 2009 12:12 PM

    Guys, I just had Harvey Goldsmith on the phone. There’s 6m Venezualan guilders in it if we’ll perform Tales From Flumographic Weasels in its entirety.

    Al, I think the giant inflatable weasel market just received a major stimulus.

  219. June 12, 2009 12:16 PM

    So, I just bought out all the legal firms representing you and will take 80% of all and any awards made to you in any court in any and all jurisdictions what and wheresoever.

    I’ve also bought a small island in the Aegean where it is my intention to set up a Zen monastery and clinic for superannuated rock stars. See you all there.

    As for your “books”, there are no more books, just downloadable Kindle files that nobody can read because the technology just became defunct.

  220. June 12, 2009 12:22 PM

    I’ve just OD’d on heroin.

  221. June 12, 2009 12:28 PM

    In the pool? Or on the pool table?

  222. June 12, 2009 12:29 PM

    In Liverpool

  223. June 12, 2009 12:35 PM

    @Al

    Great! Now those wretched solo demos you recorded on the way out might actually be worth something. At least you’re free as a bird, now.

  224. June 12, 2009 12:55 PM

    “The music business: a system devised by lawyers to keep them rolling in money and to keep money out of the hands of musicians, who are a notoriously feckless bunch.”

    Oh, it’s worse than that. Years ago, a friend of mine (not a good friend; married to the ex of my then-best friend, a fashion photographer) was doing the lighting for a major act whose name begins with ____ (I’ve chickened out here, as you see). This guy (married to the ex of my chum) , who was a real lightshow prodigy (and a Brit, living in the US), decided to beg off an upcoming tour (for personal reasons)… and got a phone call in the middle of the night, threatening broken legs unless he did the tour. He complied. This Artist often extols the virtues of Peace n love, btw.

    Then: as for myself: I co-wrote a song with a once-huge producer who was responsible for three of the biggest albums of the late-1980s (he’s produced Sting, Whitney, you name it). I wrote *all* the lyrics for this song… for which I still receive a whopping… *one third*… of the royalties… for the *lyrics*. The cunt is already rich, of course.

  225. June 12, 2009 1:00 PM

    @SA

    Did you read the Albini article I posted? Not that you’d be learning much new, from the sound of it.

    And pehaps you could tell us what the name of the leg-threatening artist rhymes with.

    @Mishari

    DickensDesk seems to think you’re atf. But comments have closed so you’re stuck with it now. Just tell me which Whitechapel skip you’ll be dumping all those sick, damn rock cds into.

  226. June 12, 2009 1:00 PM

    I’ll play the tambourine or make the coffee or buy the drugs, or maybe I’ll just mop up dead drummers… notice I’ll not volunteer to be drummer – bad things happen to drummers!

    I see Bradford is the world’s first ever City of Film. Obviously everybody’s first choice!? (not Cannes or anywhere really famous for promoting films)

    Of course I would give the film and photography museum many many points, but mostly for the Victoria sponge they serve in the cafe, which is the best I’ve ever tasted.

    http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/bradford/8096433.stm

  227. June 12, 2009 1:06 PM

    XB My memoirs of a period that I died before being able to experience are under the bed. Give the money to the weasels man.

    Off to London now see those of you who are still standing next week.

  228. June 12, 2009 1:08 PM

    “And pehaps you could tell us what the name of the leg-threatening artist rhymes with.”

    Via email only, Vince! larf

  229. June 12, 2009 1:10 PM

    Comments should be opening on something else fairly soon, I hope.

  230. June 12, 2009 1:26 PM

    @SA

    Not giving anything away? Fair enough. Well, whoever it was, your friend should be flattered. Clearly no one could take the place of your man.

    Also, when is the bloody weather going to sort itself out?

  231. June 12, 2009 1:28 PM

    ahem.

  232. June 12, 2009 1:34 PM

    Re: the weather: I see some sun out the window, XB… grab your shorts and get out there…. (looking at stopwatch)….NOW

  233. June 12, 2009 1:39 PM

    Too late. The sun just got blown away in yet another freaking hurricane.

  234. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 1:51 PM

    Three cool songs about being in a rock band:

    …BTW, seeing as how here’s little point in suing people who haven’t got any money, I’ve decided to sue myself…I mean, fuck it…I’m loaded...

  235. Meltonian permalink
    June 12, 2009 2:14 PM

    As a Prince I suppose you could break your own legs. As your sidekick I’m prepared to step in and do the job if you’re too squeamish.

    Goons arrived today. Thanks.

  236. June 12, 2009 2:19 PM

    A rare example of FZ becoming almost sentimental

  237. June 12, 2009 2:31 PM

    A real anthem for the healing power of being in a band. Apparently when ‘Moulty’ learned that the record company had released his vocal as a single, he stormed into their office and started smashed copies of the single over the executive’s head.

  238. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 2:41 PM

    Stuff the band…take me right back to the track, Jack…

  239. June 12, 2009 3:10 PM

    (Just to clarify… *he said, nervously*… the rockstar feller himself, whoever he actually was or no matter is height… wasn’t the Italianate voice on the other end of that leg-imperilling call…)

  240. June 12, 2009 3:14 PM

    Now that would have been fantastic.

    If you’re worried about reprisals, SA, I’m sure Mishari will delete the offending posts (i.e. sorry if I’ve been indiscrete).

  241. June 12, 2009 3:17 PM

    Nah. We’ve been speaking in code, innit?

  242. June 12, 2009 3:24 PM

    Yes….

    but a code Meltonian could break

  243. June 12, 2009 3:42 PM

    Itshay, uryay ightray…

  244. Meltonian permalink
    June 12, 2009 5:01 PM

    What the fuck do you mean, Vince or ExitB or Baron or WN7 or whatever you call yourself. What code?

  245. June 12, 2009 5:06 PM

    @Meltonian

    My apologies. I misinterpreted one of your previous posts. I thought you’d acquired information that, given your wide-ranging and subterranean influence, could be used in some future crowbar job against Mr Augustine.

    @Steven

    I think you’re safe.

  246. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 6:01 PM

    Calm yourself, anytimemowbray7 or whatever you’re calling yourself today. Fame beckons. Poster Poems is back…

  247. June 12, 2009 6:02 PM

    (groans broken-leggedly from nook under keyboard

  248. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 6:35 PM

    BTW, Steven…I know that like me, you’re an admirer of Satie and I think I mentioned Federico Mompou to you.

    Mompou was a Catalan composer and pianist who was strongly influenced by Debussy and Satie. He recorded all of his own solo piano pieces and they’re available on a five-CD set that can be downloaded HERE.

    It’s rapidshare, so you’ll have to wait a couple of hours between downloads unless you have a rapidshare account…

  249. June 12, 2009 7:00 PM

    M! Feeding my offspring at the moment, but if that link is still around later in the evening, I will pounce on it!

  250. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 7:02 PM

    It’s a permalink…

  251. Meltonian permalink
    June 12, 2009 7:33 PM

    Apology quite unnecessary, ExitB. I was jesting. Strangely enough, the disappearance of a well-known German racehorse has just been reported on the news. I’m sure it’s a coincidence.

    I prefer posting poems on here, I think. Those recommend buttons really get on my tits. It’s like a bloody school report.

  252. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 7:40 PM

    I thought you’d resolved that annoyance pretty smartly, MM, by simply recommending everything, although I agree with you–they are puerile…

  253. Meltonian permalink
    June 12, 2009 7:41 PM

    Ooooh, three of my favourite people to kick off the PP thread. Super!

  254. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 7:48 PM

    Yeah, I noticed that. For someone who’s always griping about the vulgarity of ‘junkie rappers’, atf uses some pretty fruity language herself. Think I’ll keep my powder dry until the canaille have moved on…

  255. Meltonian permalink
    June 12, 2009 8:08 PM

    The comment she made on Kennedy’s blog made uncomfortable reading. Nothing could make me sympathise with her, but not speaking to anyone for 12 years opened some doors which I would have preferred to remain closed. It’s odd how she starts these informal threads by trying to lay down some rules.

  256. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 8:16 PM

    I know. It is very odd. She did it when Bill opened the nominations for the anthology as well. A craving for order, perhaps?

    I missed the comment on Kennedy’s blog. Not speaking to anyone for 12 years? Jesus…that can’t be good for a person’s equanimity. Is that K’s most recent one or an earlier one?

  257. Meltonian permalink
    June 12, 2009 8:28 PM

    Yes, the one that’s up now. It seems to have killed any further comment, not surprisingly. I think she did the rule-making thing in that Xmas poetry comp as well, especially over the sockpuppet thing (and remembering that makes me think some hard thoughts about WN7’s conduct at the time).

  258. mishari permalink*
    June 12, 2009 8:33 PM

    WN7’s behaviour on that Xmas comp was repellent. Goading someone vulnerable and then pretending to be shocked at the result. Poisonous. I’m ashamed of allowing myself to be provoked to rage by atf on that same thread, but I hadn’t realised she was not quite stable…

    Oh, Jesus…I just read the comment. I now feel even worse…fuck.

  259. Meltonian permalink
    June 12, 2009 8:58 PM

    That’s what alcohol’s for, boss.

    A couple of days ago I was forced (car, wife) to listen to Woman’s Hour. Amongst the HRT and stuff-you-don’t-want-to-know-about-women’s-bodies items was a piece on men’s swimwear in which Speedos were referred to as ‘budgie smugglers’. What a beautiful phrase. I’d never heard it before. I’m thinking Australian- pity para’s not about.

  260. Meltonian permalink
    June 13, 2009 1:28 PM

    Since para hasn’t been released yet I looked it up in the Urban Dic recommended by HLM. Definitely Australian. Our host’s swimwear would likely be classified as hummingbird smugglers.

  261. mishari permalink*
    June 13, 2009 2:31 PM

    You are pleased to joke…ha-ha, very droll…it is to laugh. Although it is true I have the figure for ‘budgie smugglers’ (think olympic swimmer although in my case, it would be more a case of ‘Great Bustard’ smugglers), there’s something about them that just makes me shudder with horror.

    The fact that my wife once suggested I wear them made me realise she has bouts of insanity (either that or being French, she’s just used to seeing them on men of all sorts and sizes, most of them very seriously misguided)..

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