Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Preliminary Thoughts to a Desert full of Drafts

To Mock Sharmony,


View of Great Portland Street, London.
 
Forgive this old soul for being so presumptuous, but isn't there something you've plain old forgotten? Something mulled upon, and subsequently made a gentleman's agreement upon, in that casual eatery, a short walk from Great Portland Street.   We went there on Grimo's last day in London, heading back to Tokyo by way of Kuala Lumpur.  It was something about a desert island full of discs. Can you remember?  You can, can't you?  Don't say you can't.  That is something I would refuse to believe, anyway  - you see, the discs we talked of are and were Pure Manna from Heaven.  Fully nutritious; unquantifiable by currencies, equations, and markets of all forms.  Yes, I sense that you do remember!  But remember too that I wouldn't believe you, even if you claimed that you didn't.  Because music was always part of our sublime - an important part of our own heritage.  Compared with fighting ever-threatening flab, fighting the drift away from the full enjoyment of music is an easy task.  A necessary one, too.


Sublime Frequencies.

Built Diversions
 
Of course we have the children; beautiful wives way above our station, and demanding children who want nothing but our time.  And pressure filled jobs that demand a creative response ... now.  And of course the land we live on in Tokyo and Bishop's Stortford just don't come cheap.  Yeah, unlike some, we be working until retirement day.  But is that your attempt at an excuse!?  How could you have forgotten?  As the Everyday Kids of today might say, thumbs down, Knowing Kids of yesterday would have said thumbs down lambpit, with a tongue firmly in cheek; and certainly not allowed to loosely lol around. Still, the Kids of today are alright, aren't they?  They know their countries have been put on the click; they know that the perils of these Real New Realities give little Room to Live or even pause for thought.  But they are finding new ways ...

Away to The Sublime



F-Oldin Money by The Fall.

So, to recap, I won't believe you if you feign disinterest.. 


Both family and music reveal traces of the sublime.  Our nearest and dearest show us daily, through outpourings of love, that the fruit and tokens we win in mercantile life ain't really worth diddly squat.  At least, not in comparison to the feelings that they induce.  We know that their warm, unconditional loving selves, who we won and created freely through fair and square means, don't really give a fig about more dosh; nor do they weep aloud for bigger digs with better friggin' postcodes.  But the warming winds of futures to come remind us, subtly, not to forgo work and the attainment of property.  We need to provide the grounds for comfort-filled companionship with our respective women, in our doddling dotage.

But let it not be mistaken that these material gains will rival the finer feelings we have conjured up and are forever written in our hearts.  Those feelings which emerged when love sprang up, unawares, on our respective horizons.  Look at how unimportant brick and gold back were when those mysteries began to be spun?  Mysteries that lead to Evan, Emily, to Will and Imogen.  Mysteries that made us willingly fall to our knees in lust-tinged obeisance....




Kurt Godel.

Nobody will quantify the act of falling in love.  Modern mathematicians will try, but I doubt they will complete it.  Godel's incompleteness theorem will explain away their twaddle, anyway.  But they will try.  And just like World Currencies file claims into the lives we have forged, Worldly Ways will never fully possess the essence of our Mutual Loves.  There is, of course, no choice but to follow worldly rules, and we must pay, come what may, but the source of our fortune will forever be free.  Our genesis made it that way.
 

And we will do anything not to let them go. 

It took so long to find them; they came in unexpected ways...

... I spent time aboard Foxbase Alpha and similar minded ships, willingly submitting to the whims of the Dice before I had earned the right to Approach Her, while you, - as you willingly recognise, have the persuasive Words of Grimo, uttered on a campus in Hull, to thank, in part.  Without those words, 'Lissa, you'd have missed her' -- she'd have flown outside your port.  

Your 'Lissa; my Hiro' - two ladies who make me believe, in small moments, that a God-Force exists; and that Ascension is not solely accessible to the likes of Leonard Cohen.  While Work attempts to convince us that it is out of reach, Her unknowing movements show and evince a Diviner, Sublimer Truth.  We wrap ourselves into Her arms and allow Her sublime essence to overcome us.  We disprove Work's dictum that to slow down is wrong; we know that His words are mere evocations, of aggressivity.  .

Tune In To The Light Side of the Moon

Their arms, their scent; their movements - they show us the Light Side of the Moon.  You used to talk of the merits of the Dark Side of the Moon, and there was always something in that, but even that title was misleading - Pink Floyd were purveyors of light, even when inferior Gilmore took them to larger caverns than Sid cared to reach.  Through music, they attempted to reach the sublime - and connect with emotions physical love cannot reach.  Perhaps to a state that Black Francis once termed, clumsily but accurately, as the eargasm.

Love of Women; Love of Music: It is no surprise that for the latter, such feelings are freely felt in childhood; back in teenage years when we have time to slow down, and appreciate art in full.  Our Women never liked us to rush the worship of their fine selves; neither should true appreciation of music be rushed, when played, or when enjoyed.  Contemplation must occur before any form of meaningful penetration, if you will.. 


The Half Moon, Bish St.

And you, of course, know this - for I saw the smoke of bygone years rise when we talked about music in the back of that Half Moon.  The mere fact that you waited that extra hour: to retrieve treasured feelings from a past that hasn't quite evaporated yet.  And never will.  Searching for a subjective slice of musical sublime - you didn't need to wait for Moon Unit to open up at the Half Moon. 

Nor purchase that Prime Slab of Blue Vinyl Tap. 

But you did.

 
 
Indeed, you did, and I found Fred Titmus toying with some hybrid Scouse cookie-men dancing on a Leftfield with a Rotten Lydon.  I've passed on that chemical rush to my own man now; the anticipation of the ear passed on to a Cut of My Own Cloth. The Renegades (Against Vinyl Extinction) are Alive and proselytising; willing to talk Deserts, Desserts and Desertion through Music. But you might well ask: Where Are We Now? 
 
Wrecklaw?  None will him to speak, or so they thought, and his time will come. 
 
Mheret and Bishop, we have but little reliable data. 
 
But as for Mock: I know that he spent almost as much time in Moon Unit as he did in Signals.   
 
Grimo's Desert Full of Drafts will slowly emerge for the hell of it with occasional explanations, 
creative licence on track listings, and whatever else is deemed appropriate for each separate draft.  It must be completed, lest more memories are sold on to Passing Time Merchants and are prevented the chance to grow more fruit.  Old branches are still fertile if you tend to then carefully.  This act must be completed before another one leaves their home and allows for more Family Vinyl to be sold.
 
 

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Furtive Fort

Furtive Fort (spontaneous)



Furtively, I return to a previous time

Survey the scene; see who remains

View the penmanship regulars

And imagine Authentic Voices to whine:

Turncoat!  That hotch-potch of a man!
Demote!  Return the dime of kindness, given freely
Deselect! You! Who quit without warning...

And nobody noticed depart

Move to Vote against those who leave without mourning...

Such thoughts are in my mind, at least.
Now necessary business is now complete,

But I want to swim back into the scene,
And quietly too

Taking pleasure in imagining refusal
While knowing one is

only

too

Invisible.

 

Sunday, January 04, 2009

Desperate but not serious.



When he saw her, he was desperate.

Desperate for normality; desperate for love.

Now looking back, for expectations that were not fleshed out,

he sees her world needs alien to his;

That the selfishness she claims is all her own.

"I walked into it;

I walked into your castle,

a filled exchequer and a tough history

With the distinct smell of carrion. "

What a carry on!

He was desperate, not understanding her social needs.

Calmly, it wells up again,

and the self admits an adamant truth,

heard in infancy:

"If I were kind and adoring

How would that be?

Very boring."

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Friday, January 02, 2009

Have They The Right?




From Heinz with his tribute to Eddie Cochran, we move to another Joe Meek produced 1964 smash hit, 'Have I The Right?' A song often referred to in pub quizzes owing to the bands female drummer, Honey Lantree, and her then unique role. It's typical of its time; songs of longing and love were popular with the British public, as indeed they continue to be. With its Mo Tucker-esque primitive drum beat and a piercing guitar line, it's one pop tune that unites pop fans with a more alternative breed.

But the song title takes me off in another direction and stimulated the quesion: Does a state have the right to put cameras in classrooms? It's happening in England, a place where liberty is prized but there are more security cameras per head than anywhere in the world. People need to look even closer at what is happening. One writer who consistently does, Henry Porter, has just written a great piece on Comment Is Free entitled What Vaclav Havel Can Tell Us", which unfortunately has received far less comments that articles on stamping out prejudice in sport and the heavily funded advertisements for atheism adorning buses in the UK and US.

Havel, in a 1989 speech to the Czech people said, "Let us not be mistaken: the best government in the world, the best parliament and the best president, cannot achieve much on their own … Freedom and democracy include participation and therefore responsibility from us all."

But Porter notes that: "The British of today and the Czechs of two decades ago are hardly in comparable situations. The Czechs had moved rapidly from the long night into daylight, whereas we have slid from a society of enduring liberal values and respect for rights into a kind of half light that has been brought about by a determined state as well as the apathy and complacency of quite large numbers of people."

I don't know what it's like in the States, but in England people had better wake up quick. Here in Japan, as far as I have experienced, there are no schools which have put closed circuit TV cameras in the classrooms of four year olds. But in Britain, reports Jason Lewis, this is the case. A company called Classwatch is saying devices can be "set up to record everything that goes on in a classroom 24 hours a day and used to compile ‘evidence’ of wrongdoing."

Now, this automatically assumes that wrongdoing is everywhere. It isn't, but, as far as I have gleaned, seeing and experiencing wrongdoing is a valuable learning experience in itself. If a class is full of wrongdoers, then the teacher needs to change his or her approach. The cameras are an insult to all, and another tool brought about by that determined state that Porter has stated is weakening British society.

If we look deeper at the company 'Classwatch', a name which echoes Crimewatch - a BBC programme that reconstructs unsolved crimes, we find that the Shadow Children’s Minister Tim Loughton is the firm’s chairman. Does a Member of Parliament have the right to hold such a position? This interest appears to conflict with his parliamentary position, to represent constituents who may or may not have been consulted on the use of these intrusive tools. The Classwatch position, if reported accurately, is not mentioned on his blog.

I wonder if his children go to schools with CCTV fitted classrooms? It would be interesting to discover if they do, because I am trusting a Daily Mail article, after all. Classwatch have listed an article published in The Guardian on their website, that includes the claim that pupils like being filmed and that there are educational advantages to this. Have a look.

"Have I the right to hold you*

You know I've always told you

That we must never ever part

No no no no no."

* = (in the screen).

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Wednesday, December 31, 2008

(Saw in the New Year) .... Just Like Eddie!



Lots of good advice in the messages to the last post. Somehow Barbara imagined that I'd be whooshing down the slopes, and though I'd love to have been, it wasn't quite that way. As a Brit, perhaps that's unsurprising. Though full of admiration for those who effortlessly weave their way through slalom courses, and as a former avid viewer of Ski Sunday on BBC2, the twists and turns that I hoped would be evident in some form were somewhat beyond me. But I realised, when trying to recover from my umpteenth tumble, that I actually resembled an Olympic participant from the past. My poor balance, lack of flair and self-deprecating spirit made me appear just like Eddie.

Eddie 'the Eagle' Edwards was the first British participant in an Olympic ski jump contest. Despite him breaking down barriers, he was a figure of fun due to his lack of skill but a respected one in light of his will to challenge his self. Later declared bankrupt, he earned more than a pretty penny for his amateurish dares. He came up in conversation with the owners of Schiheil, the ski lodge we stayed in at Ishiuchi, within Niigata prefecture. Their service was nothing but first class, their lodge seconds from ski lifts that take you to the top of Niigatan mountains.

Their hospitality extended beyond the convenience for the slopes. The food served (delicious catfish with paprika sauce, home made bread dipped with blueberry yoghurt, beef stroganoff ....) was top notch over the two days spent there. Home comforts were also provided via an absurdly cute dog (Riku-chan), a ninja son the same age as my own and wireless Internet access. So, when my shortcomings at skiing were made clear, I could join in with making an igloo with the lad and the residents of the lodge.

Couldn't have been just like Eddie in a more suitable place!

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