Ramblin'

Mm, yes, RAMBLIN’ (and ranting) is what I’m about to do, so if the thought of that horrifies you, click away now. Otherwise, stick around and along the way you’ll learn some FASCINATING facts, such as: YOUR BRAIN STOPPED GROWING WHEN YOU WERE 18. So I read. But how that can be a fact is a mystery to me because I thought everyone developed differently with small or large variations. Not that I know anything about biology. My brain stopped growing when I was 8 – FACT!
   According to Encyclopedia.com (Ornette) ‘Coleman hit a financial low point around 1980, living in a series of unheated apartments and cheap hotel rooms, and suffering two robbery attempts in an abandoned Manhattan school that he tried to turn into an arts center. After one of those attempts, he was left for dead by teenagers who had attacked him with a hammer.’ Can you imagine that?! Where are those teenagers now? Do they know they nearly killed one of the great musicians of the 20th century? They must have thought he was just another bum. But he rose, phoenix-like, yes, from the ashes of his own desperate condition, and towards the end of the decade was in fine shape, playing with his new band, Prime Time, at London’s Town & Country Club, where I watched in awe with the woman I would go on to share my life with ever since. There, a personal biographical fact for you.
   But this blog is not so much about my personal life, as you may well know. And whilst I’m on the subject, thank you for reading, looking, listening. Yes, you. Perhaps you’re a first-time visitor. If so, look around. You’ll find all kinds of interesting things. Honest. That’s not a plea, it’s a promise. Unless you’re not interested in my artwork, graphics from magazines, exclusive scans from books, film reviews, album reviews, LP downloads, book reviews, essays...and so on. Your time won’t be wasted, whereas I could be wasting mine right now, talking to myself. I talked to a fellow blogger an hour ago and we joked about our viewing stats in relation to the music press. I said ‘I don’t want to set the world on fire, just start a little flame in the hearts of readers who enjoy my site’ (paraphrasing an old song) – and it’s true. If I was stat-hungry, I’d have starved long ago. He raised the point that many mainstream newspaper music journos probably have private educations, y’know, the old (posh) school tie fraternity. I don’t know about that, but I’m sure their CVs were brimming with fascinating, important facts that got them the job, such as working on the Dalston Gazette for three years as a junior sub-tea-maker writing reviews of Indie gigs and albums. I live fairly close to where The Guardian’s offices are, I should go ask them. I should walk in and say ‘Where’s your music editor?’ Then say ‘How many cunts working for you went to posh schools? ‘Cause they ain’t worth shit!’ Before throwing a foam pie in his face.
   So there’s a gaping hole in the lives of News Of The World readers – to match the one between their ears. 1.6 million (roughly) morons without their weekly fix of shit. Well, they can easily get that elsewhere. If I was a member of the enquiry team yesterday I’d have asked ‘How come you preside over an empire that peddles puerile crap in the form of tabloids which serve to KEEP THE PROLES STUPID instead of acting responsibly and raising the intellectual, spiritual, and cultural aspirations of your readership by adhering to the notion that GIVING THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT is the way forward, the way to improve the health of the nation? Eh?’ I’d like to have seen Murdoch Jnr answer that one.
   On that note. I bid you farewell. TTFN