Oh damn, still in this dream.
Below are the 50 most recent journal entries recorded in the "johnny9fingers" journal:
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I saw the Glam Ex today for the first time in years. She came over for guitars and catch-up chatting.
I always did like her. But then again she looks like a combination of the best bits of Audrey Hepburn and Gina Lollobrigida. It is easy to see why I was smit. And still am rather, despite everything.
She still has her Senegalese partner who is half her age. And nine feet tall. So should she visit again I don't think I'll mention how beautiful she is in anything other than a completely dispassionate way.
Oh, the Donald...|www.buzzfeed.com/kendalltaggart/trumps-lawyer-we-met-with-him-in-pairs-to-avoid-lies
Now this is from 1993, some twenty-three and a bit years ago. One sincerely hopes the leopard has changed his spots.
When I moved out, my ex redecorated comprehensively. I had removed 90% of my library from the house, so it made sense. She also bought new blinds, and had the place painted from top to bottom.
Today, my almost 6 year-old son told me he wanted to go home. I suggested to him that he only thought that because Daddy was too strict. After some thought he replied along these lines:
"No, it's just you have too many books."
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
"There are too many books. Your flat is too cluttered. The blinds aren't right. The sofa is too big. And there are books everywhere."
Evidently my son has become too much of an interior designer to want to stay in my flat.
It's right about now that I start thinking of paternity tests.
Tags: irony, kids, me
First dreamwidth post.
Whoever thought I would leave LJ? Not me. However the Putinbots (some remarkably clever and nice-seeming, the sort who disguise appalling views as jolly banter, and who are unfailingly polite and courteous - others of course being not quite as adept at pretending to the values of civilisation) have finally made of LJ Dodge City before Wyatt Earp.
It's a fun place in a desperate sort of way; and the few communities in which I still participate are, for LJ purposes, and in the world of FB and Twitter, vibrant.
LJ may be a fun place, but it has become even more a small battlefield in the phoney-cyber-conflict between polities, virtual polities, and political alignments. The levels of casual racism have risen to a point where I am having difficulty controlling my temper. Maybe it was always thus, but like Edward VII, I am of the opinion that even these casual forms of racist behaviour are disgraceful.
The problem then becomes, of course, when faced with this, do all of us sort-of-informed non-gender-specific chaps engage against that which we consider to be objectionable, or keep quiet for the sake of harmony?
I know I paraphrase some part of a Hamlet soliloquy, but taking virtual arms against a sea of prejudice and disinformation seems like a reasonable thing to do. (You can never end it though, in this Hamlet is wrong; I suppose the struggle just gets passed on to other folk.)
Anyway, it's time to borrow Achilles' armour. Epistolic aristeia awaits, if not for thee, then for me.
Tags: helo birds helo clouds helo sky, me
A Happy New Year to one and all.
I want 2017 to be less interesting and event-filled than 2016. But my wants are pretty immaterial.
All my misgivings about 2017 may prove to be wrong: Que sais-je?
And 2016 brings us another unwelcome present....|
George Michael has died.
My commiserations go to his family and friends.
He was a nice chap and possessed of charm and wit. That's aside from the talent. I worked for him as a guitarist once, long ago. (I was part of Toby's band when George recorded Toby's song "Waltz Away Dreaming".) He'd just been done for cottaging and was really amusing about it all, telling the tale whilst ensconced in the studio control room in Tin Pan Alley. Quite a brilliant raconteur. Always had excellent weed too.
Well, I think that's all the Christmas shopping done. A few last hand-delivered cards and present-wrapping left.
May your Christmases be merry, joyful, and er, um, rainbow-coloured and multi-cultural. And I'll still call it Christmas and not the holidays, so there.
So... since my separation I have been rather kicking over the traces (if that's the phrase I'm looking for) when I don't have the kids with me. The kids though are the ludic meaning of life, for all that one has to correct them.
I'm too old for Tinder (there's a cut-off age I have somehow exceeded) and most dating sites seem... er... well I'll give 'em a go, but am not that hopeful.
Added to which the impulse to explore those things which I have never really gotten around to doing, yet were still within my moral framework, means there are so many possibilites that I'm as confused as a schoolboy about to blow his yearly allowance on a trip to the tuck shop.
I feel a dash of the Scarlet Pimpernels coming on. Or is it Valmont from another book I mean instead? Or maybe even I could try to be Marguerite this time around? Or Isherwood in Berlin...
Or maybe even just make sure I have the Adagietto to Mahler's Fifth on constant rotation on my iPod, and Venice shall be my Jerusalem.
After finding the small shadows on the lungs, and in light of this new single status, I think the bucket-list has to be explored pretty thoroughly. With appropriate decency to the other people involved, of course. And I should definitely try to get it all on cam to embarrass my descendants in the years to come.
Maybe not a woman this time. Unless the right one comes along, of course.
Young Harry has just released a statement from Kensington Palace.http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-37908096https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2016/nov/08/prince-harry-lambasts-press-over-meghan-markle-coverage
Now this is about the British press of the semi-fascist variety. The Scum, the Daily Fail, the Getsworse, and the Torygraph. (I happen to be a Tory, btw, though of a different kind to the sort that reads those not-fit-to-wipe-your-arse rags.)
How can you tell they are semi-fascist newspapers? Why, by the dog-whistle racism which they evince... hardly even in the closet.
I stand with Hal. I'm not the shape to be Falstaff, being too skinny by half, but I would be happy to attend him in his cups of both joy and sorrow.
Damn the gutter press. Damn them, damn them, damn them. William and Harry are both good blokes as well as being princes and gentlemen, and if either Harry's or Will's lass needs chaps to defend them against cowardly blackguards hiding behind thinly disguised prejudices expounded in polite language, I'm happy to call those blackguards racist fucking arseholes to their faces. And in print. And in front of their friends and family.
For those who don't know, the Royals can trace their family tree back quite a long way, and folk of most races appear on it. Harry is descended from both Attila the Hun and the Prophet Muhammed, as well as various Guelphs and Ghibellines. (And also from Ghengis Khan IIRC.) Someone needs to shake some decency and honour into the fourth estate. I blame the editors and proprietors. Maybe they should be held accountable in some way. Hahahaha.
Why do I bother...|
When this dude can do this:
He's called Brock Davisson; and his notes, to my ears, have weight, resonance, and meaning.
If there is a God, God gets it, I suppose.
It always pays to have the best informed critics.
I'm a lot closer to moving out. I'm waiting for the flat to be finished and then, when the kids are on holiday, I shall move. I am unhappy about the timing; but both Madame, and Kay our nanny, think that giving the kids a fait accompli is the best option. I am prepared to agree, albeit reluctantly. Still despite the absence of the kids (though I will be looking after them for two days a week and alternate weekends) I am looking forward to not having to live here. I must quit smoking, which I took up again after things started looking irreparable.
(The length of the ellipses is to disambiguate such a title from other things bearing similar titles, Steve Bell springs to mind, god love him, as does Lindsay Anderson.)
But anyway... if Theresa May can lead a government that is true to the principles and ideals of her speech, I will join the Conservative and Unionist party. We may yet have some hope with Aunt May. Maybe not with the Single Market, but just maybe by looking futher outwards again, as we were wont to do. (But this time with trade of substance rather than simple and simplistic exploitations of natural resources, coupled with not-very-thinly-disguised racism.)
We are still good at things. At many things we excel. We should be able to comply with and compete in any market. But it will take much hard graft to make it work. And there's a task for you Aunt May. Sort the house out; and we shall all go and be spectacular for you, or maybe amazing.
On the other hand....|https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2016/jul/10/chris-evans-says-top-gear-not-meant-to-be-matt-leblanc
Chis Evans (DJ for disambiguation purposes) is not a complete tool then. He's right. Matt LeBlanc is the best choice. He's very watchable in a slightly cool little brother way. But that's my age talking.
Just about to gig at a party outside Winchester. Get in is 5pm. Sound check is as soon afterwards as poss. I should be back at the hotel by 1am and then sleep. In the morning I have to rush back home for my daughter's third birthday.
And my ears are giving me problems. :(
Never mind. Just more rubbish to deal with, I suppose.
Tags: family, me, music
So the pro European underground...|
Recognises each other through Beethoven's Ninth.
Makes a change from Beethoven's Fifth.
Oh, that was last time. Different conflict.
Dammit, I have to learn the words...|
Freude, schöner Götterfunken
Tochter aus Elysium,
Wir betreten feuertrunken,
Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!
Deine Zauber binden wieder
Was die Mode streng geteilt;
Alle Menschen werden Brüder,
Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt.
Wem der große Wurf gelungen,
Eines Freundes Freund zu sein;
Wer ein holdes Weib errungen,
Mische seinen Jubel ein!
Ja, wer auch nur eine Seele
Sein nennt auf dem Erdenrund!
Und wer's nie gekonnt, der stehle
Weinend sich aus diesem Bund!
Freude trinken alle Wesen
An den Brüsten der Natur;
Alle Guten, alle Bösen
Folgen ihrer Rosenspur.
Küsse gab sie uns und Reben,
Einen Freund, geprüft im Tod;
Wollust ward dem Wurm gegeben,
Und der Cherub steht vor Gott.
Froh, wie seine Sonnen fliegen
Durch des Himmels prächt'gen Plan,
Laufet, Brüder, eure Bahn,
Freudig, wie ein Held zum Siegen.
Gladly, just as His suns hurtle
through the glorious universe,
So you, brothers, should run your course,
joyfully, like a conquering hero.
Seid umschlungen, Millionen!
Diesen Kuß der ganzen Welt!
Brüder, über'm Sternenzelt
Muß ein lieber Vater wohnen.
Ihr stürzt nieder, Millionen?
Ahnest du den Schöpfer, Welt?
Such' ihn über'm Sternenzelt!
Über Sternen muß er wohnen.
Personal update. Locked. FFO.|
My tenant has moved out of the flat. I shall go round with a tape measure to see what I can fit into it. One room will have to be the kids' bedroom for the alternate weekend's stay. I shall have to shelve the entirety of the front room for those books which I am taking. I shall be leaving many behind: I will not have my children growing up in a house with no books.
I shall take about half my library with me, which will still leave them in a house of some two thousand books.
I shall also leave some of the furniture I inherited, and some of the art works too. Those in which Madame has expressed an interest I shall allow her to keep in the house. Thus far it's a few pictures, some statuettes and a few Georgian bits of furniture.
I shall miss living in this street. I shall do my best to ensure that my children do not miss me, and that I am available to them at all times. But as for the rest of it, it is better this way.
I will always wish Madame well, but to be candid, living with her can require armour of the kind I no longer wear, or maybe can no longer bear.
I shall be in Dulwich on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I shall have the kids on alternate weekends, and the rest of the time I will concentrate on trying to put my playing back together in my flat some 6 miles away. That and the dating apps, obvs.
Maybe the one way to fix all of this.|
Right. The UK is a parliamentary democracy. Parliament is sovereign.
Cameron needs to ask Parliament to reconfigure according the Brexit or Remain camps, and beg Her Majesty to dissolve Parliment and call an election on the basis of Brexit or Remain, with a specific mandate that the next Parliament would vote immediately upon the issue, and invoke article 50 as next business if required, or bury the issue if not.
But that's not going to happen now, is it. It would require politicians to be bigger than their party, and not purely out for their personal gain. It would require a bit of soul-searching and self-sacrifice from MPs, voters, newspaper proprietors, and maybe even Brussel's bureaucrats.
Oh well, no win there then. We're fucked and we know it. Well, some of us do.
Maybe it's only a minor thing. Most likely it won't affect me much unless I get mugged in my old age by a feral member of a new underclass. Note to self: use the armoured cars from here on in. This is how Syria developed. It was once a fairly civilised place, I hear.
I exaggerate, I hope.
So strange...our constituency, Southwark (73%), and the neighbouring one, Lambeth (75%), had the highest remain vote of all the mainland English contstituencies, but was comprehensively beaten by the slightly offshore constituency of Gibraltar (92%). Dulwich (mainly in Southwark) is a pretty educated and haute bourgeois
enclave, so no surprises there then; but Lambeth is home to some very deprived areas. I suppose that many of the folk in the most deprived areas are either immigrants, or live close enough to immigrants to realise that they are people much the same as the rest of us.
Nasty pockets of racism have broken out. The leave camp has retracted all of the promises made before the referendum. How strange that supposedly honourable people should do such things. So... no cap on immigration, which was the main issue used to stoke up the less than enlightened amongst us. No extra money for the NHS. No extra anything. However, the losses are beginning to mount up. Scotland, Northern Ireland, Gibraltar...
It is almost as if the Brexiteers haven't thought this through.
If we remain in the EEA we need to maintain freedom of movement. Also it will cost us; maybe more than membership of the EU costs us now with our various rebates. But still, we will be free. Free to pay more for an associate membership of an organisation we once had a small say in running.
I don't suppose it was actual treason on the part of the Outies. When it comes to thinking of the consequences of their opinions causality seems to be entirely beyond their comprehension. Folk I know knew Boris of old. Apparently he was once a bright and clever chap even if somewhat given to indiscriminate leg-over activities. You'd never guess that now.
As for Gove... a shit is a shit is a shit. And he's all of that.
So we have voted to quit the EU by a margin of 4%.
Scotland's parliament is preparing legislation for Scotland to cede from the United Kingdom, as Scotland as a country voted to remain. This is reasonable and will no doubt go through.
David Cameron gambled. He gambled the Union of England and Scotland, the Union of Britain and Northern Ireland, and much of Britain's future prosperity on a single stupid issue to appease the right-wing of his party, none of whom wanted to see the breakup of the United Kingdom, but all of whom appeared too foolish to see the bigger picture.
It's normally the Tower for folk who have done our nation such wrongs. Cameron and Blair do make an awful pair of ex Premiers.
Gigged at the weekend...|
In Tiverton, Devon.
Used the Helix and the Dickinson 2 x 12" combo. Sounded good, although the sound engineer wanted to take a line out from the Helix, so I had to re-engage the speaker emulations on the four patches I used. Apparently the FOH sound was pretty damn good. Always a win when the sound balance is right. :) Everyone played well though Frankie was a trifle, um er... wired. Singers, hey?
Ye Gods... Tragedy... Woe.|
Some (British) looney has stabbed and shot a British MP: Jo Cox, MP for Batley. She was in her early forties.
Lord rest her soul, and console her family in this their hour of grief.
She was a Cambridge grad and a committed campaigner for justice and human rights in the best way. More than this, she was a mum.
First reports indicated that the unbalanced chap who shot her was a bit of a loner, and an outer. Not a Muslim, not an Irish Republican, but a Brexiteer. I'm sure that these first reports will be shown to be mistaken, and anyway, I'm pretty sure that most Brexiteers aren't quite as extreme as to want to murder their Remain-inclined parliamentary representatives. But, as always, I'm prepared to be put right about this.
This makes me angry|
So...it looks as if I will be moving back to my flat in September, which will be a bit of a relief. We'll "do it up" so the kids can stay there. We shall be co-parenting, and it is all civilised, thank the gods. We shall keep on Kay (the kids nanny) at Dulwich, which will be their main residence, to provide a good sense of continuity for them. So that's another £50k a year on top of the loss of income from the flat. I shall exist on a small subsidy for now.
Anyway, we are doing it the old-fashioned way. We shall not divorce for the sake of the property and the children. We shall live separate lives in nearby establishments where the kids can see each and both of us.
Strangely, since we (ahem) made the decision, Madame has been much nicer, which has made the atmosphere tolerable. Perhaps I should not have agreed with her solution quite so readily, however...
A trifle upsetting nevertheless. But there you go.
No way of titling this at all.|
"So was it Walt Whitman, or A. E . Houseman who wrote 'Seven Types of Ambiguity'?"
"Neither, it was Empson, who was a Wykehamist; and at heart, a Wykehamist."
"Isn't that just a pretty tautology?"
"That's the thing with you scientist chaps: you think that a distinction without a difference doesn't matter: in language it is sometimes called emphasis...old thing."
"Well, you passed the Whitman and Houseman stupidity without blinking, which was impressive. And then proceeded to explain Empson."
"I did wonder if a peculiar form of dementia had settled on the table: I fear I may have been ahead of myself."
And a third voice...
"Ah, the scent of contrition: sometimes it is good to be humble at this table, but never meek. Is that 'a distinction without a difference' enough for you? I can assure you it matters." The Master's gravelly baritone, posh Welsh, never either humble or meek, brought the subject to a close.
It was almost time for the Cherry Pie. What to do with the stones? What to do with the stones?
Answers on a postcard please to the usual address.
And I speak as a Spurs supporter. :)
2016 seems to be quite a year for it...|
Prince, aka Prince Rogers Nelson has died. He was a bit good. What a crying shame.
I think litotes or meiosis may be the term for emphasis through understatement.
More monkey business....|
Why even go abroad?
The link between fraud and deregulation is rarely more apparent then is shown in this article.http://www.theguardian.com/business/2016/apr/19/offshore-central-london-curious-case-29-harley-street
So now other folk get to look at what the post-Thatcher-and-Blair, post-deregulation, market-driven UK business environment is really like.
Napoleon was only half-correct. We are a nation of fraudulent and corrupt shopkeepers.
Tags: business, fraud, u.k
And just in case people thought that US companies were any different...|
They seem to "offshore" just as much as anyone else:http://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/apr/14/us-corporations-14-trillion-hidden-tax-havens-oxfam
They are all run by
businessmen, accountants, and lawyers.
The governments priorities are pretty fucked.|
Sir George Martin.
Musician, producer, arranger, and above all mentor of the greatest composers of popular music the world has yet seen.
Art and stuff...|
There is an exhibition of Hilma_af_Klint
's at the Serpentine Gallery on at the moment. Having seen some of her abstract work, and understood its context and historicity, I really want to see this.
Tags: art, pioneers, women
Pretty shoddy from the government. Pretty damn shoddy indeed.
Pretty damn good show from la Ullman. Standout moments must be her Camilla and the theatrical dames Judy and Maggie. But it is all good.
I can't believe that this hasn't begun the process of Trump's political derailment. It is so outrageous.
Either that, or the US is actually a far more racist place than the rest of the world ever imagined: and if so, it has gotten to that point by the toleration of the gradual and systematic erosions of the gains made in the '60's by the Civil Rights movement exposing the injustices and inequities of the system.
Twenty years after the end of a war fighting against the evils of fascism and racism, it was possible for the average man to know and understand the wrongs inherent in racism. Seven decades away, it seems our media cannot draw the same obvious conclusions based on similar evidence.
The chap after whom the Edwardian era is named, Edward VII: a rake, a playboy, a ne'er-do-well, was unusually anti-racist for his time, or even it appears, for these times. When accused of race-crime in supporting the Japanese over the Russians he is quoted as saying [he]"could not see it. The Japanese were an intelligent, brave and chivalrous nation, quite as civilised as the Europeans, from whom they only differed by the pigmentation of their skin"; and thought the N word too offensive to use; and in letters home from India he complained of the treatment of the native Indians by the British officials: "Because a man has a black face and a different religion from our own, there is no reason why he should be treated as a brute."
And he died in 1910. (I must confess here that I'm a bit of a fan of "Bertie" despite the sideways trouser-crease. Unusually in a man, and even moreso in a King, he was a man who knew how to live, live well, and, whilst within the constraints of masculinity in his era, live honourably.)
Sometimes even historical Kings are better than current Presidential candidates.
Some of us are of the opinion that we should shackle those who rule over us properly: that is what a constitutional monarchy is all about. Shame about the life sentence they get, though. And all that bloody soldiering: especially if you're more interested in architecture or interior design.
Tags: because reasons
David Bowie has died.
Impossible to quantify the loss.
And since I have gotten it, I've been doing an awful lot of playing. :)
I can get my Marshall JCM800 50wt single-channel-no-reverb head and my c.1968 model 1968 4x12" cab sound to about 99% of the real thing, even through my stupid powered monitors. Through the Dickinson 2 x 12" combo, well, it sounds pretty damn amazing.
Tags: gear, guitar, helix, kit
has arrived. O frabjous day!
There is a situational modifier called context. It's a funny old world, hey?
In the season of Christmas, when in the close dark we can move from hangover to inebriation without even pausing for breakfast, some things become obvious to me.
Firstly, having grown a full beard for the first time in my life I can confirm I look like a slightly slimmer version of Gerry Adams. And also growing such a beard is a tacit admission that actually I probably won't get laid too often now. And probably I don't care. Much.
Secondly, that even if Metrocamel get up and running I still have songs that won't fit in with the band's oeuvre, if that's the egg I'm stretching for, and as the inimitable philosopher/poet Wodehouse would say.
Thirdly, that I'm not in the habit of giving other chaps ammo when debating. Especially when I think I have a point.
NSFW at all...|
Tags: bizarre, nsfw, rude, youtube
Happy birthday felephant
Guitars in the New Year?
All the best, old thing.
Last night I went out with chaps from a band I was in at the turn of the millennium.
I'd met Paddy, the drummer, on the tube a few months ago, and we exchanged phone numbers. So I met him and Phil, the pianist/singer, in a pub in Battersea.
We all have partners and children now. Nannies and school fees are things with which we are all familiar.
But more importantly, everyone was itching to make music.
Anyway, I'm still waiting on my Line 6 Helix. GuitarGuitar in Epsom have had my deposit since October. I rang them today and they prevaricated. Not impressed really.
Tags: guitar, kit, music
Well, back to Edwardian medicine here we go.
As an aside, I've been informed my health issues aren't urgent, which is nice, and a relief. :)
This is why Rugby is better than football|http://www.theguardian.com/sport/2015/oct/31/sonny-bill-williams-world-cup-winners-medal-14-year-old-fan
Though football is the beautiful game, it has been spoiled by the people playing it, and even more by those administering it.
Yet another great footballer has been implicated in the FIFA scandal.
How many great people have been corrupted by Blatter and his minions? Platini was bad enough: a really great player and from what I understand, a good man too. But Franz Beckenbauer? No, say it ain't so, say it ain't so. Not Kaiser Franz. If there were ever a man whom one would have thought incorruptible it was Beckenbauer.
I don't want this to be true.
And as an addendum to yesterday's post.http://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2015/oct/19/homan-square-chicago-police-disappeared-thousandsHabeas Corpus
, anyone? Rights to representation? There should be some sort of restitution for this. Prison sentences for those promoting this, and compensation for the victims?
Hahaha...it will never happen.
Tags: injustice, justice, usa
Food for thought?|
Tags: corruption, justice, u.k., usa
A Guardian article worth reading....|http://www.theguardian.com/business/2015/sep/30/how-the-banks-ignored-lessons-of-crash
And this situation is au courant
, if that's the phrase I'm looking for. Sometimes one just has to laugh.
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