Not the Royal Wedding

I wish the Royal Couple well. An emotional and very long event. (There wont be a a dry seat in the Abbey).

While the world of politics takes a break today for something else, I thought I would just drop a line to the few souls who miss WW.

Several things have made me want to dash to the keyboard over the past few weeks, but alas, I am busy with the other blog and related projects. I now have several interviews with musicians to transcribe and edit. Those who agreed to talk have been very generous with their time.

Angela Eagle, who has most certainly some sort of habit of sucking piss off a nettle, appears not to enjoy being the butt of a fairly thin, desperately un-groovy allusion to popular culture. "Calm Down Dear" I think the phrase was, used by David Cameron at some point during the machinations of the Mother of Parliaments, possibly in a failed attempt to be with it. Elsewhere, someone was arrested for playing Kung Fu Fighting, since this was clearly a terrible slur on a passing oriental.

The lesson for today then is not to speak to anybody but your closest and most trusted friends and relatives, becuase otherwise you may become the target of some playground bickering. Only in this case, instead of telling teacher that he or she was "mean to me", the stakes have been upped to include parliamentary debate and recourse to the increasingly preposterous plod, who seem to have nothing better to do than to look for scapegoats and undermine the rules of common sense and justice. I don't blame the police by the way, they are institutionally incapable of thinking for themselves - the direction comes from above and they are still carrying out the daft political diktats of Labour.

This nonsense is changing. Eric Pickles is clamping down on wasters and self-styled guardians of the wheelie bins. If all else fails, Pickles can sit on detractors.

There is a real world out there that needs to be addressed. Since the police have taken to burying their heads up their bottoms over black on black violent crime, what better displacement activity than to arrest anybody who plays crap disco music. Gosh, perhaps Anybody who plays crap 70s disco music should be arrested.

Symbolism is overrated in my opinion. I don't have much to do with manufactured observances and I only dance naked in the moonlight at the solstice, a natural and entirely politically resistent occurance.

We are coming up to a referendum on our voting system. A lot of people, including me, are being influenced by the "stars" who have aligned themselves one way or another. I am inclined to do a tally of the loonies, the luvvies and the liars, and then vote for the solution they don't endorse.

Labour is desperate. They mostly want AV. It is the only way they can see a return to Government. That in itself should be a warning.

Soon on Rock Legacy I shall be publishing a review of a Chantel McGregor gig and a review of her new album, doing a piece on an incredible keyboard player and a few snapshots of things like The National Steel Guitar, how When I'm Dead And Gone got to be made and all sorts of stuff. Raymond Benson, a prolific and respected American writer and musician has sent me a piece about the Canterbury Scene, which will go up later today.

In the meantime I wish you well. WW is not dead, merely hibernating and attempting to do some actual primary resource journalism, and unless you have a juicy, first-hand bit of info to pass on, things will just tick over for the time being.

For those who seek a genuine and refreshing alternative to today's big bash, here is a song that I remember from the days of Children's Favourites. God help me if it contains references to sensitive orientals.

No comments: