Thursday 19 December 2013

Linear Philanthropy


It's that time of year again. Christmas! 'Peace on earth to men of goodwill,' and all that sort of stuff.  But, let's not forget, that it's also a time for huge over indulgence and simply bucket loads of questionable TV 'entertainment.' At our home, we've begun to accumulate bottles on the theme of alcohol, the like of which we've not tasted since last Christmas; it's what's expected in a monetarist society. "Another mince pie, anyone?" "Baileys?"

It's to be hoped, of course it is, that most families (those who behave like families) are able to muddle through to at the very least an acceptable, or maybe a passable, Christmas. Also that they make precious time for their more elderly and lonely family members, and manage somehow to resist getting sucked into the spending spree maelstrom, that's been chugging up through the gears since mid October. In my humble opinion many of the most delightful children often transpire to be those who have not systematically been overindulged at these times- of course there may also have been one or two other contributory factors.


Thanks and seasonal greetings to Constance Wiebrands

Fortunately, if one is not overly dazzled by the constant bombardment of TV, radio, high street et al glitz, one is still occasionally reminded that there's a tad more to Christmas than indigestion and hangovers. Hell, yes, there's also crippling hunger, the freezing homeless, aching loneliness; oh, and that humiliating guilt that many families are forced to undergo, when they can't afford the price of these seasonally prescribed overindulgences.

Just a teeny tiny point at this juncture, more than a 'fair' deal of the above is as a direct result of the current government's austerity drive. In the interests of political balance, it should also be mentioned that Cameron, Osborne, Johnson and the likes would have been driving home much the same sort of divisive measures, entirely without the operating screen of a recession.


Fantastic! Thanks to Alex Laurie

We have come to expect the precipitated excrement generally to prevail, regardless of the misnomer labels 'our' political 'representatives' choose to hide behind. In my defence, this is absolutely not a personal acceptance of the current government approach to anything- if there's something upon which we chance to agree then it's generally because I've overlooked or misunderstood something- yet it appears to be something into which the majority of those who still bother to vote have been prepared to sleepwalk. So, there we have it! I'd say the future looks sort of sludgy.

So, in the light of the long overdue 'revelation' that successive governments have finally managed to achieve their unstated goal, that of reversing the trend towards a more egalitarian society, is there still a line left to be crossed? In good ol' Britain, where the London Mayor may now openly celebrate spiralling inequality as, "incentivising," where the inheritance twins of Cameron and Osborne * may openly refer to many less-fortunates as being of, "a dependancy mentality," should we simply hunker down and prepare for the engineered return to an openly feudal system? Or are there still lines that should not be crossed?


Exactly, Byzantine_K

"And the generals sat and the lines on the map moved from side to side," but where are those lines today? Allow me to suggest that the following is still an example of just such a line being crossed. Stomach-churningly, such an occurrence as the following is by no means an uncommon mishap.

So finally, to clarify, my stated line was rudely violated the other day by one Giles Brandreth (BBC 1, The One Show). I would strongly urge that he is the type of character of whom we should all be wary. The man speaketh with forked tongue, he doth. On this occasion he was lecturing to the nation, on the theme of Victorian philanthropy. "Hmm!" we might be forgiven for thinking, particularly if we were unfortunate enough to have witnessed Giles's dalliance with politics in the eighties.

Yes you, much as I do, will no doubt recall that the very same Giles Brandreth once slotted perfectly into one of our more callous governments, even by today's 'standards' and that's saying (writing) something. Under Thatcher the word philanthropy was allegedly deemed unpalatable- "let the oiks eat cake!" Rumour has it that, prior to the facts being politically sanitised, Anne Widdecombe once almost choked upon the word. If you don't recall, I'll just whisper the words, "queen mother," and "fishbone," into your shell-likes.


Here we go, Giles. National Library of Ireland...

Anyway, Giles was recently savouring the sound of his own plummy voice, as he professed empathy for the less-fortunates of Victorian times. This he did through the painterly perceptions of Samuel Luke Fildes, a Victorian painter, of philanthropic bent. Giles was referencing Fildes' painting, 'Applicants for Admission to a Casual Ward,' in which we may witness a depiction of destitute Victorians queuing for tickets to stay overnight in a workhouse.

"Where was this pseudo-compassion, during your time in government?" the more elderly viewer should have been thinking- not necessarily shouting, red-faced, at the screen, as I might have been. Giles, replete with self-assembly acme spine in situ, could be heard to feign sympathy for the, "hard working man who's lost his job," and the, "widow with child." I'll bet he forces out a few crocodiles, during Christmas screenings of 'The Christmas Carol' too.

Again, in the interests of a bit of balance, Giles did also get around to heaping much praise upon the 'underground' benevolence of Victorian Britain. So, perhaps we should give him the benefit of the doubt; perhaps, in his self-appointedly Scrooge- like way, all he really hopes for is a Britain where the likes of the modern day Samuel Fildes will be able to salve his conscience by painting huge canvasses of the created poor. Happy Christmas, Giles!

And finally, let me also wish the equally benevolent Bono a plentiful New Year!

* Could sitting on an inheritance cushion of millions ever be considered a, 'dependency mentality?' Hmm...

Tuesday 10 December 2013

Magic


Had you been fortunate enough to have spent Saturday night (7th December) at the delightful Norwich Arts Centre you'd have witnessed the gathering of a slightly older generation of music types. More to the point of this post, I'm delighted to report that The Norwich Arts Centre is where I had chosen to spend my evening.

The attraction, on this occasion, was The Magic Band- that of Captain Beefheart fame, no less! Sadly The Captain is no longer with us, having succumbed to MS some three years ago. Entirely given to that of a somewhat complex persona during his performing years it is most unlikely that he would have put in an appearance, even if he'd been a spectacle of perfect health. The recorded history of the band leaves us in little doubt that he was not a man with whom to trifle over musical differences of opinion. But, boy, was he a producer and performer of edgy music.



Perfect, from Sundaram Ramaswamy

At the Arts Centre, as many of the man's loyal following gathered, words like 'gig' were once again heard to be uttered, coffees instead of beers were seen to accompany many of the punters into the hall; no pushing to the front, many of us were simply grateful to find a patch of floor upon which to sit and wait. Many in the crowd were older than your's truly, the prospect of all present standing throughout the concert had seemed a touch daunting at the outset.

I should never have doubted my own stamina; the mere sight of Rockette MortonDenny Reebo Feelers Walley and John Drumbo French striding onto the stage was enough to transport me back three decades. Sadly no Zoot Horn Rollo on this occasion.

For those unfamiliar with the music of Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band any amount of wordy explanation  could only fail entirely to convey even the merest essence of their unique style. Those lurching asymmetrical rhythms, the surreal poetry of numbers like 'Golden Birdies,' where on earth could one even start?



Many thanks to the creative brx0

In the absence of the band leader, the gravel-throated John Drumbo French had stepped to the fore, voice resonating up through the floor, from whence it seemed to gather force in the gut, partying with Morton's driving bass lines.

Excepting the notable error of permitting a short drum solo to start the second set- I find that they're never quite short enough- Beefheart aficionados could not fail to have been thoroughly delighted. Worth the ticket price just to listen to Denny Walley bending the hell out of those immense slide guitar notes.

For those familiar with the music: 'Sun Zoom Spark,' 'Moonlight on Vermont,' 'When it Blows it Stacks,' 'Alice in Blunderland,' 'Click Clack' and the immense once-heard-never-forgotten 'Big Eyed Beans From Venus' might have even impressed The Captain.

Well, if not unreservedly The Captain, they certainly kept me and a happy gathering of like-mindeds fully wired.