Sunday, 9 November 2008

Sunday Night is..

And, of course, Kristallnacht.

The YouTube Kristallnacht material is poor. Either school projects, worthy of course, but being dutiful and enthusiastic is somehow off the point. Or there is footage with average music. Or there is fascist punk stuff. So no movie, just a little picture.

As to the First World War, I know by heart some of the songs of the period. We used to have a book of sheet music and the words went in and stayed in. I almost prefer the songs to some of the well-known first world war poems. They know both less and more. They are mostly in Joan Littlewood's 'Oh What a Lovely War' but they are best sung without accompaniment or bare accompaniment. Not sung too well in fact.

Now to Newcastle


Coirí Filíochta said...

Sunday morning and i think, a Historic moment in the history of politics and mankind, Gordon Brown is blogging on cif direct to the voters who are mainly in three camps.

1 - Anonymous loonies affording him no courtesy, ranting at him, directing all their trollie remarks,

2 - angry ppl at least addressing him by a title of mister or Prime Minister

3 - and a few intelligent folk, Lionel at the top of page three has thus far been the most human in the way he responds to what some are claiming is mister Brown's rampant transparency of jumping on Obama's wave.

I had a similar thought when i first saw who i took to be a local weirdo, with battered bag and trenchcoat at an O'Donaghue and Paulin reading at a Liverpool Irish festival, who i thought was there to try and stand next to Paulin in the hope some of his magic may rub off on him.

I was Disabused of this notion when i discovered -- due to not being au fait with author photo's on jackets always being at least ten yrs out of date - the man i thought there to steal Paulin's vatic gift, was actually the real life Paulin.

Come on George, i think you should address him, for the good health of Poetry, go to Gordon Brown on cif and weave yr magic.


steses - letter sequence.

Coirí Filíochta said...

i fink i gorrit wrong again dad.

Gordon wrote a piece:

Our 2p pledge to all children
I want to mark the end of the slave trade in 1807 by tackling the modern slavery - ignorance.

on thursday jan 4 2007 and it got 134 comments, whereas this one, i've a feeling he's the pultice that's gonna be drawing all the poison from a very irate mob.

i bet..erm..1327, a copy of

Black Country Stock and Being john Ruskin by Wolverhampton legend and Stride poet Dave Reeves, andNor All Men Are From Mars anthology:

A Poetry Comilation Celebrating Women, by Peter Wyton, in support of Women's Aid "until womern and children are safe"

picked up at Ledbury this July when i spent a week camping with Roland MacMurran and where Astley nicked my talent at the corner of Homend, and made his escape to the Prince of Wales, cackling as he ran off, stripping naked until i phoned for assistance from a person i am not at liberty to mention for fear you will discover i am making it up..

Coirí Filíochta said...

arghh, he's got five pages of articles he's blogged. he's dumped there more than me.

but if you want to bet, 1327 is the number. lets see whose closest to bein a prophet. i dare you!!!

haringa - is the sequence, a ha, ring..

Gwil W said...

my mouse and I
now type to say
on this occassion
ignore BA!
keep George to us
and far away
from gordon brown
that blogger
with the formal frown
now blogging round
for royal bard

tell them firm at number '10'
that george has left and gone away
to geordie town
the town of call-me-tony
and will
partake another brown

blair's motion
is the royal squeaker
for singing birthday odes
for wales's 60th
coming up this very week -er

so beware
dear george when you come back
of blogger brown -
ignore BA and watch your back!

Coirí Filíochta said...

PiR, George pm'd me to ask i mind the window whilst he is in Newcastle, to keep out riff raff and the level of discourse at its curruent exoteric level, in which, when george is criss-crossing the country for the good health of Poetry, i am second in command, making sure everything ticks over how he wants.

He also vested in me, as his by far his most loyal and committed supporter, a full power of poetic attorney, to take full and frank responsibility for the smooth running of his domestic realm when he is off oop norf. not you, i'm in charge.

Gwil W said...

you're right about the riff raff
and they don't come any riffer or raffer than yer umble scribe
who to is credit it must be owned flogged 20 misprinted riffraff TV series t-shirts (only 50p each!)
to hardy fell runners from oop north by misty mistress pendle
but nevertheless and letitnotbesaid i cant take an int i will umbly give way and swear
to never take statute starred legislative lickspittle liberties ever again so help me by gott
the loose cannon gagged trussed bound and flung in the darling liffey ...

Coirí Filíochta said...

Gwii mate, eff that runnin off pal,
yer'll av a flippion art attack

leg it to the shop, twenty bennies
a bottle of jamies, two hot blondes

of either gender, 'n go alcoholic
all the top scribes are to class

drinkers ricotatin from one crisis
to another. you are lerrin us doon

mah why eye, cuz ah noo, ah seen
it like on tha telli, wi tha five

bellies, gazza's manbag, an if your
plee yiz cards right, yo kin bear

mine like, just like five bellies
yoh can be mah wing man, moppin

up in the park, drinkin wi trevor
learnin summat aboot life man

dis yi nivar think aboot me in all
this like, al thiz flippin messin

around 'n fer what like, fer vest
'n shorts, day glo spandex runnin

up a flamin hill? yer must be mad
ow come yiz not oot doon tha pub

wiv them lapdancin firemen, ah am.
a ha, sound Williams my deepest darling cipher of the gads be gob

once yer nail the sonics, they'll
be flockin to ya, them super-models

ah've bin toh eld cum wiv the job
of poet inj residence of stringies

gaffe like. is that wah yous iz nah?

persedat - letter sequence, a pert des..