My good friends, I feel renewed and quite splendid after having a lovely evening out with the famous miss Julia. We attended King Tuts Wah Wah Hut to hear some drunk Canadian called Ron Sexsmith sing. Imagine our surprise to climb those shaky stairs to nearly be knocked back down by a huge and powerful (yet gentle and subtle) lady voice - can you guess who it was? It was Monica Queen of course, and that John bloke who plays acoustic guitar. She was fantastic. I was awestruck and I think I love her. Don't tell Julia that. Her band, well, her and the acoustic guitar are called "Stars into paradise" or something, but my god for those of you who cannae stand her bit in LLPJ, you should have heard this. Fantastic. Then Ron came on and my my he was great. What a lovely lovely voice and lovely songs and a charming young fellow an that. He played for ages as well, even though all his songs are dead short. He played all the songs off his albums, apart from the shite ones and some new ones which sound fantastic. I was nearly crying at the end, it was so good. Hold on, no I wasn't I'm a man and I like rugby an that. It was just a bit dusty in there, that's all. The mysterious and beautiful Charlotte breathed
I'd like to nominate someone to produce next week's and I nominate, er, Chris Leonard as he is ineffably cute (I know, I've met him) and has produce the most exciting competition to come out of Glasgow since, since, since his last competition.
Oh, stop it. You made me blush. Can I keep you? I'm happy to do a Monday poem, but this coming Monday I'll be sweating in the hot showers of lovely Singapore. I'm not much of a reader, as you may have gathered from my shaky use of englisch, but I have invested in a novel for my Journey. It is "And the Ass saw the Angel" by Mr Nick Cave. I read the first page last night, and crumbs, it looks a bit hard. I think it may help if I imagine Nick Cave reading it to me. So anyway, since I can't do a Monday poem here's one for today. First some background on the Author: Hugh MacDiarmid 1892-1978 This was the pen-name used by Christopher Murray Grieve. He was born in Langholm and educated at Langholm Academy before becoming a pupil-teacher at Broughton school in Edinburgh. He then became a journalist. During the 1914-1918 war he was in the Royal Army Medical Corps. A controversial figure, as many of the most interesting artists are, he pioneered what many regarded as a Scottish literary renaissance in the 20th century. He held strong political opinions which, as they ebbed and flowed, coloured his writings, but central to his work was his intention to create (in his opinion re-create) the Scottish literary language. This involved using a vocabulary from all regions of Scotland and all historical periods which to some seemed forced and artificial, but to others was legitimate given the lyric use to which MacDiarmid put the words. His political views have irritated the simplistic from time to time since he held ideas which seemed to categorize him as a 'Communist', though his communist ideas were very much his own. He did stand as a Communist candidate in an election in 1963 but he had also been a founder member of the 'Scottish National Party'. In the early 1920's he was publishing his own poetry amongst collections of contemporary verse which he was employed to edit. In Scotland his most famous work is probably 'A Drunk Man Looks At The Thistle' (1926) which deals comprehensively with the condition of Scotland and the Scots. This no doubt explains its continuing poularity here. 'Facing The Chair' by Hugh MacDiarmid Here under the rays of the sun Where everything grows so vividly In the human mind and in the heart, Love, life, and all else so beautifully, I think again of men as innocent as I am Pent in a cold unjust walk between steel bars, Their trousers slit for the electrodes And their hair cut for the cap Because of the unconcern of men and women, Respectable and respected and professedly Christian, Idle-busy among the flowers of their gardens here Under the gay-tipped rays of the sun. And I am suddenly completely bereft Of la grande amitié des choses créés, The unity of life which can only be forged by love Oh, and Susannah said
Right, now all I have to do is work out my list crushes, enter Chris Leonards daft quiz...... It's not daft, and anyway I'm suspicious if your eligible for a prize, re Rule number 4. Joking???..
That's your lot, chris sexsmith ----------------------------------------------------------------------- This message was brought to you by the Sinister mailing list. To send to the list please mail "sinister@majordomo.net". To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to "majordomo@majordomo.net" List rules, FAQ etc., http://www.majordomo.net/sinister
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