Thursday, 16 March 2017

Employee Of The Month

Mr Mason's mad, he found Satan in his Tesco shopping bag,
The Prince of Darkness by the milk and lemonade,
Watch out Beelzebub, that bag will bio-degrade,
Bio-degrade, like a slow motion hand-grenade.

They don't give you club-card points for that,
Not for horns and pitchforks,
You'll be picking bits of plastic up for weeks,
Then you'll really know what hell is.

Mr Mason's mad, milk is curdled, lemonade bad,
Customer Services, you're in for an epic fail,
The devil in a shopping bag can't be explained away,
And you only started in the job yesterday.

They don't give you any training for that,
Not for fire and brimstone,
You'll be on the phone to the helpline for weeks,
Then you'll really know what hell is.

Mr Mason's mad; he'll never shop here again,
Look sonshine don't you know he's fought in ten world-wars,
And as he storms away, shouting out the odds,
You think: Satan isn't the only red-faced bastard in here.

They don't give you any prizes for that,
Not for hue and cry,
Now you'll never be employee of the month,
Then you'll really know what hell is.

Tuesday, 14 March 2017

The Fifth Column

It's half-past ten again,
A note pinned to my door,
says "Your species has been destroyed
by a living alien spore".
I thought I'll ring mother an tell her,
but she's gone off with her fella,
They'll be dancing to Cliff Richard,
In a cellar in Landore.

This is how the end will start,
It's the start of the end.
A hundred girls with a hundred guns,
Will fight for you my friend.
This is how the end will start,
It's the start of the end.
There's a million emails across the world,
Which nobody will send.

First they came for Hockney,
Then they came for Gary B,
A thousand grasping tentacles,
Reached out from of the sea.
Some said we should appease them,
some other people teased 'em,
But nobody would say a word,
to the government who released them.

This is how the end will start,
It's the start of the end.
A hundred girls with a hundred guns.
Will fight for you my friend.
This is how the end will start,
It's the start of the end.
There's a million emails across the world,
Which nobody will send.

I flew my flag for glory,
I saluted the Holy See,
I took a million arrows meant for Shiva, not for me.
I showed my real colours,
I think I showed true grit.
I took a number six bus to Chiswick,
And drove off the cliff in it.

This is how the end will start,
It's the start of the end.
A hundred girls with a hundred guns,
Will fight for you my friend.
This is how the end will start,
It's the start of the end.
There's a million emails across the world,
Which nobody will send.

Friday, 9 September 2016

On the POINTLESSNESS of certain things, with PARTICULAR reference to JINGOISTIC RADIO and its ILK

In, what is no doubt, an infinite and complete triumph of the narrow mind, we are disturbed to encounter reports on a radio station UNION JACK which plays only British music ('Absolute Radio founders launch DJ-less national station', Guardian, 9/9/2016, and 'New radio station Union Jack launches playing British music only', FACT.com, 9/9/2016).

In an absolutely pointless move the station is described thus:

“Britain has been at the forefront of groundbreaking music for over six decades,” said Walker. “Union Jack will lead the way in celebrating this rich heritage, playing the greatest UK music and also discovering and supporting new British talent.”

It's a good job such national musical treasures such as The Beatles and The Rolling Stones weren't at all, in any way, influenced by music from beyond these shores(1). Music is, as it has ever been, a magpie art form that draws on global influences and reinterprets them for contemporary audiences.

A further question. Who decides, and by what criteria, what the 'best of British music' is? Who decides what British is? Is my conception of Britishness and musical taste less worthy than that of the opinion formers of Absolute Radio?

Folly of the highest order.

NOTES:
(1) This is Irony. I am well aware of the influences drawn on by Lennon, McCartney, Jagger, Richards, et al, However, I feel I must point out this ironic statement for the Hard-Of-Irony, who are legion in society at large today.


Wednesday, 7 September 2016

On the subject of BLOGGING, and GENERAL WRITING: Also featuring a JUSTIFICATION for embarking on this course of ACTION.

You write, THEY told me. You write a lot. You ought to have a blog. That's what THEY said.

And so it is - with little pleasure - that I set about making this journal, this blog, this reportage, for no other reason than the vanity of my own satisfaction.

The challenge - one only supposes - is finding enough time to keep this edifice updated so that THEY don't think I'm slacking in my labours.

Only time will tell.