Friday, June 01, 2012
Having closed May, one expected (by me) occurrence hasn’t happened. The ongoing situation is making it difficult to find the time and energy to actively post here. This has all intensified the consideration that I’m sick of jumping through hoops and somewhat sickened at other crap that’s going on in and around my vicinity. This general malaise has resulted in a lot of “sleeping with the TV on” only there’s no recollection of William Powell dying amidst any of it but anyway it’s a while since I just wittered on so let’s see where some of this goes.
I’ve read acres of yatter about Adele’s record and how great it is but there’s not one song on it that comes anywhere near Amy Allison’s “No Frills Friend”. Nothing to do with being contrary just calling it like I hear it. Now if the aforementioned multi-million seller were to recognise this and record “Hell To Pay” then we’ll say no more about it. Anyway, it’s my plan this weekend to not travel far from the bunker. To try and knock it into some kind of shape or at least just plank stuff up in the loft, to paraphrase another Amysong “out of sight, out of mind”.
Eric is back and blogging as only he can.
Much is being made of the alcohol pricing being mooted to “save lives”. Now I’ve heard some pish being spouted but this ranks right up there. Really, do they think our heid’s button up the back? Now, if one really thought such a levy would benefit the health service then it wouldn’t be a problem but the revenue stream will be diverted into some other lamebrain scheme. I don’t trust government to do anything but to keep pruning our civil and sundry other liberties. That particular pastime is the sum total to which they excel.
Finally got around to finishing “You Only Rock Once”, The Jerry Blavat book I was gifted last fall. It’s a star-studded affair that tells the story of the Philly legend that actually invented the televised rock’n’roll hop. I was particularly taken with his remarks regarding The B*atles. The Geator is still packing them in along the South Jersey Shore and beyond and there’s no sign of him letting up. If you haven’t had the pleasure of Ben Vaughn’s Birthday tribute to the Boss with the Hot Sauce then do so now. The book expands upon the theme set down over the course of that two hours but the sheer excitement generated during Ben’s celebration is pretty damn infectious.
Sometimes when the TV just goes over the score in terms of shite, an executive decision to watch more Car 54 (Season Two) has been taken. So let’s see what transpires tonight but expectations should be kept on the DL. Punk Britannia is on tonight and so is the TV Smith documentary. The big question around here is “will BB Quattro be in it”?
In relation to the recent deaths of Robin Gibb and Donna Summer I was thinking about the pigeonhole known as Disco. Of course it has since taken on the mantle of “club” which is probably supposed to sound better. Certainly more vague. My early encounters with the form were odd. While there were good records, the whole ‘lifestyle’ aspect just didn’t appeal when measured against that of the various strains of rock’n’roll. When I saw Saturday Night Fever, I hated it apart from the use of White Castle. After all, this was where The Dictators were pictured on the inner bag of Go Girl Crazy. SNF at that point was as close as I ever expected to get to it.
The “Death To Disco” movement was sort of fun too and it seemed like a good idea at the time. The notion of life being cut and dried is as far from reality as a galaxy way, way out there (points to the heavens). It seems even further away now. I have no idea what the deal is with physical postage overseas but the recent hike here is less than agreeable.
Pay more for a crappier service seems like the order of the day. So I guess the outcome of this is that I’ll be forced to use the service less – or find lighter things to mail overseas but records, confectionery and haggis tends to be weighty. Consolidation isn’t the answer either but I’ll figure something out.
And to top it all off, we’ve got to sustain all this jubilee guff. The country is close to being towed out into the ocean to be sunk and we’re being force fed an antiquated notion that went out with the ark. A historic occasion apparently. Well not to me. And as for this upcoming “sporting” event, that’s an even bigger obscenity just visible on the horizon. Most of the "events" will be papered due to a mass epedemic of cannae-be-arsed. Even the idiots aren't on board for this bun fight.
But hey, it’s the right side of Friday and the BBC is serving up Punk Britannia to celebrate our sceptic isle. Oh how the more things change, the more they stay the same. But it could be worse, right?
Posted by Lindsay Hutton at 7:30 PM 1 comment:
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