Thursday, September 30, 2004

Otherwise Detained

Been a bit busy lately - procrastination can take it out of you - which means that I've been a bit backward in coming forward in updating the blog. I may or may not get back to regular blogging in the next few days. I'm not sure if I want to continue with this blogging business. The original *cough* mission statement, in setting up the blog, was to try and get into the habit of regular writing. The truth is I can't really be arsed - I will always be more Oblomov than Goncharev when it comes to such dedicated and disciplined matters.

If I do get to pull my finger out with regards to the blog, then I really will have to change the template - it has been bugging me for ages now (and has probably contributed to me not updating the blog as often as I should). Nothing fancy - just another shameless steal from Bloggers offer of free templates. I would also have to update the sidebar. I really need to update my links - reciprocating to those who have linked to my blog, etc. Apologies to those of you out there for my slackness - it is just part of a general pattern.
Rather than just leave this message and blog hanging in such a 'face like a slapped arse' miserablist fashion, I thought I would take the opportunity to take a leaf out of the SIAW triumverate's book (otherwise known as shamelessly ripping them off) by reproducing below a favourite poem of mine. They have for the last few days taken it upon themselves to updating their blog with a selection of their favourite poetry. As they apparently got the inspiration for the idea from this guy , I don't feel half as guilty about also partially lifting the title of their thread, 'Otherwise Engaged', and calling this post Otherwise Detained.

I can't pretend to be the greatest afficiando of poetry - this blogger here knows his onions when it comes to poetry - but I read the following piece in a collection of thrities poetry recently and it caught my eye for its humour. The collected lyrics of Paul Weller may be cut and pasted at a later date.

Bagpipe Music 

 It's no go the merrygoround, it's no go the rickshaw,
All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.
Their knickers are made of crepe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,
Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with head of bison.
John MacDonald found a corpse, put it under the sofa,
Waited till it came to life and hit it with a poker,
Sold its eyes for souvenirs, sold its blood for whiskey,
Kept its bones for dumbbells to use when he was fifty.
It's no go the Yogi-man, it's no go Blavatsky,
All we want is a bank balance and a bit of skirt in a taxi.
Annie MacDougall went to milk, caught her foot in the heather,
Woke to hear a dance record playing of Old Vienna.
It's no go your maidenheads, it's no go your culture,
All we want is a Dunlop tire and the devil mend the puncture.
The Laird o' Phelps spent Hogmanay declaring he was sober,
Counted his feet to prove the fact and found he had one foot over.
Mrs. Carmichael had her fifth, looked at the job with repulsion,
Said to the midwife "Take it away; I'm through with overproduction."
It's no go the gossip column, it's no go the Ceilidh,
All we want is a mother's help and a sugar-stick for the baby.
Willie Murray cut his thumb, couldn't count the damage,
Took the hide of an Ayrshire cow and used it for a bandage.
His brother caught three hundred cran when the seas were lavish,
Threw the bleeders back in the sea and went upon the parish.
It's no go the Herring Board, it's no go the Bible,
All we want is a packet of fags when our hands are idle.
It's no go the picture palace, it's no go the stadium,
It's no go the country cot with a pot of pink geraniums,
It's no go the Government grants, it's no go the elections,
Sit on your arse for fifty years and hang your hat on a pension.
It's no go my honey love, it's no go my poppet;
Work your hands from day to day, the winds will blow the profit.
The glass is falling hour by hour, the glass will fall forever,
But if you break the bloody glass you won't hold up the weather.
Louis Macneice

21 comments:

Will said...

Being a bit slack with yor blogging doesn't seem to apply when it comes to leaving comments at other peoples places though does it? Pull your digit out man.

1212121212 said...

Mental health warning: Backword Dave clearly hasn't the slightest fucking idea what "misanthropic" means. If you can read a poem about a suicide, for instance, and call it "misanthropic", you're not saying anything relevant, you're just woefully misreading an expression of compassion. We could also point out that most of the poems we posted are love poems: if Backward thinks they're "misanthropic" he must be even more warped in the head than we'd realised. Similarly with MacNeice's poem here: there's nothing misanthropic about it, which is one reason why it has lasted this long in people's affections, and will last long after Backward has disappeared up his own backside.
Have a good weekend, everyone.

1212121212 said...

You bait, we rise, you end up looking like a dickhead - what else is new?

Reidski said...

There's only one fool here and it's certainly not Backward Dave! I took a peek at SIAW blog and thought it the worst load of political drivel I had read in a long time - there is certainly nothing "socialist" about it.

1212121212 said...

Damn - Reidski (whose astrological sign is Libra - how materialist is that?) has blown our cover. He has deduced, merely from a single "peek", just what our evil anti-left conspiracy is aimed at, and there's nothing left for us to do but give up.
Never mind, though: socialism is obviously safe in the hands of Reidski and other bloggers, and needs no help from (for example) the working class.

Apologies to Ingrate - we should have guessed that simply pointing out what a wanker Backward is would attract another wanker to defend him.

Imposs1904 said...

See - this is why I never usually concern myself with poetry: it starts too many fights and I end of 'hauding the coats'.

I've learnt my lesson. In future, I'm sticking to posting about the peculiarity of being an SPGBer and the associated difficulties of attempting to prosecute the class struggle from my armchair - it causes less hassle.

Anonymous said...

Naebody caw's ma mate Reidski a wanker, ya bunch of pretentious middle class wankers wi yer fuckin rhymin poems. Jaickets aff ootside noo! Ah'll ge ye a fuckin Marxist analysis.

Big Malky frae Ayrshire (Virgo)

Reidski said...

SIAW, I'm not sure if it is your intention, but you really do come across as a stupid little young man. Of course, you could may be a stupid little young woman, but I would put money on you being male.
Your also an arrogant little cunt - one of those arrogant little cunts that inhabit "left-wing" politics who know absolutely nothing about the world.
Let me guess, but, if you reside in Scotland you'll vote SSP and if in England you vote for Respect? What a fucking twat.

Reidski said...

And, by the way SIAW, I didn't describe myself as being any astrological sign, you stupid turd, blogspot does that when you put in your age and, although I'm sure that your so worried about such things that you can access the settings to make sure that you wouldn't dare have an astrological sign on your blog, I, on the other hand, couldn't give a flying fuck.
Apologies to mel, by the way, for getting off the thread of the thread, but idiocies such as the horribly misnamed "Socialist in the blah blah blah" shouldn't go unchallenged.

1212121212 said...

“... stupid little young man ... stupid little young woman”: Nope, three middle-aged people, two male, one female. Confusing, huh?
“... arrogant little cunt ...”: Pot and kettle, baby.
“... inhabit ‘left-wing’ politics who know absolutely nothing about the world ...”: No, we’re happy to have said goodbye and good riddance to much of the so-called left a long time ago, and we know plenty about the world, thanks very much. We've even visited Scotland a few times. It was nice.

”Let me guess, but, if you reside in Scotland you'll vote SSP and if in England you vote for Respect?”: Guess again - you can hardly be more wrong.

Oh, and sorry (genuinely) about the astrology thing. We’ve never bothered to look into the Blogger profile system, and we didn’t realise that the bastards impose astrology on you rather than leaving it to you to choose to mention it.

Now calm down, take a nurofen or two, and ask yourself if what anybody says in the blogosphere is worth getting quite so freaked out about.

Reidski said...

No, SIAW, you being three people is not confusing in the slightest - the issue arose because, wow, wait for it, I DIDN'T KNOW! There, humility - have you ever heard of the term.
It also makes you lot even sadder and more pathetic than I realised. The rest of us do this blogging shite cos we are saddoes with no mates and not much contact with other human beings, so what's your trio's excuse?

1212121212 said...

"saddoes with no mates and not much contact with other human beings": Speak for yourself - and Backword Dave - since you clearly speak for no one else.
Oi, Ingrate, this is where you step in and say something prim and editorial along the lines of, This correspondence is now closed. It is for us, anyway. Bye!

Reidski said...

One, I've never claimed to speak on anyone's behalf except myself - and I don't always agree with what I've written either, by the way.
Two, the problem with SIAW is not the politics alone, but simply how boring you lot are. And, thank you very much for pointing out the error of my assumptions, but not having looked myself at your site, I picked you up wrongly. Now, after reading your rubbish, I really do know now how bad your rantings (well, they could hardly be described as ideology, philosophy, or any other semi-intellectual pastime, now, could they?) really are!
Come on mel, for fuck's sake, bring some humour back to this shite!! Scotland are playing Norway later today, so maybe that will be cause for a laugh.

Will said...

Reidski: Scotland are playing Norway later today, so maybe that will be cause for a laugh.

You were right there. I laughed.

Reidski said...

Not funny. Not funny in the slightest. I do feel sorry for wee Bertie, it must be said. Surely he didn't put them out on the pitch with the instructions to punt the high balls up to the smallest forward line in world football? AS for the critics such as Charlie Nicholas? He didn't seem to mind it when Scotland managers were picking him even though his grand total for the national team was a crappy five goals in 20 games!!

Imposs1904 said...

Hey Reidski,

you lot can tear lumps out of each other in my comments box - and someone can even cut and paste part of the Old Testament in my comments box (see passim comments) - but criticising Charlie is off limits - right? I still have dreams about that goal he scored against Switzerland all them years ago - what a star ;-)

So, this how I saw it yesterday: Scotland lose their first World Cup Qualifying game at home since 1985, with a decent goal disallowed and, in the process of conceding a penalty, get their best player of the moment, McFadden, sent off and thus lose him for the next couple of games. And people wonder why I'm a World Socialist, campaigning for a world without nations!!!

Being down 'sarf', I ended up watching the England-Wales game yesterday. The only things I took from the game are that: Owen should be dropped; Paul Jones should be playing for a Premiership division team; Robbie Savage has a vocabulary of less than 250 words and Alan Shearer, rather than it being the case that all these years he has been cleverly cultivating an image of the dour, taciturn figure WHO has interesting and thoughtful things to say about the game but refuses to pander to the whims of the tabloid media, he is in fact a dour and taciturn tube with fuck all to say, but will say it anyway. I bet Garth Crooks hopes that Shearer will quickly gets his coaching badge, 'cos otherwise there is a new monotone monosyllabic king of the bleeding obvious ex-footballing sheriff in town, ready to take Garth's disaffection in a football nation's loving hearts.

Good result for the Irish in Paris. They do have a fine team - Duff, Reid and Kilbane all had excellent games last night. Is too late for me to mention my Irish surname by way of claiming honorary 'Plastic Paddyism', and thus reflect in the glow of being able to support a decent National team? Aye - thought so. Fuck!

Larsson scored for Sweden at the weekend as well - ah, the memories.

PS - I'll try and resume blogging sooner rather than later. I've been spending far too much time in other people's comments boxes, while you lot have been fouling up mine ;-) No offence, I love you all really.

1212121212 said...

And we love you too (on the whole). Feel free to appropriate any other ideas for posts from our blog - we'll probably be stealing, er, borrowing from you sooner or later, after all.

Will said...

the only reason you don't like Shearer is cos he's always been a better player than Henrik.

Shearer's a top bloke. He once chinned Dyer in a car park in Ireland.

Imposs1904 said...

Will - Alan Shearer: great goalscorer and monosyllablic gobshite, erm, without the gob, that is. ;-)

I thought it was Keith Gillepsie that he chinned in Ireland? - but if it turns out that he chinned Dyer as well, then that is all well and *cough* good, but he will have to chin Bowyer, Bellamy and Kluivert as well before he truly goes up in my estimation.

Please don't mention Shearer and Larsson in the same sentence again - it's the footballing equivalent of mentioning Busted and the Undertones in the same sentence. It just don't look right.

Will said...

is this some sort of cunning plan that gets you out of having to actually post anything else ever again?

I'm not going to rise to your bait this time. I'm off to rip the piss out of lenny the fucking nazi now. Care to join me?

Will said...

I forgot to say: you were right about it being Gillespie in Ireland who Shearer chinned. I keep getting mixed up with the prima-donnas that Shearer has chinned. The stories about Gillespie in the Toon...good grief. He did however chinn Dyer but that was elsewhere (twice). Good lad then.