Sinister: Under the spreading atrophy

[poetryplace2]

Ahoy there, shipmates

ONE NIGHT IN BANGKOK
Hold on to your hats, because I have some disturbing news. While it is
delightful to bask in the rosy glow of victory, I fear there is something
rotten in the State of POP.  Our triumph may be forever tarnished. Pull up a
chair and let me tell you the sorry details...

Dedicated followers of football will have been shaken to the very core by
the recent news that our national game is actually controlled  by a shadowy
far-eastern gambling cartel. For these inscrutable chancers, the premiership
is a mere ball-bearing in a global roulette wheel of fortune, a trinket for
their  idle amusement. And now that they have been rumbled in their infernal
match-fixing, they have turned their attention farther afield, and their
cancer has spread deep into the heart of our culture.

Belle and Sebastian’s odds of winning the best newcomer awards at the Brits
this week were so great that as soon as the shortlist was announced,
phonelines around the Pacific Rim went  into meltdown. The entire Hong Kong
stockmarket was wagered on the screwball chamber-indie octet coming up
trumps. Brokers in Bagkok hoped to resurrect the Thai baht by banking on the
winsome troubadors victory. They could not be allowed to fail. And so the
BPI directors were treated to a slap-up meal at Wagamama, Steps were fobbed
off with a year's free shopping at Muji, and 5ive were given their weight in
Hello Kitty merchandise. The path had been cleared....

....And who is the shadowy mastermind behind the greatest gambling coup of
the twentieth century? Well, who do we know in the far east, who is au-fait
with the latest happenings in indie-pop, and is feared throughout both
hemispheres for her legendary poker skills? Yes, reliable sources inform me
that it is none other than our old friend “Lucky” Yingluck...OOOOOOooooon
herself! Rumour has it that she devised the entire scheme to pay for a
luxury private jet, painted with Badtz Maru characters, to ferry her to the
Camber Sands Bowliestock weekend. Who will end her malign reign???

LEONARD-SKEONARD
Meanwhile, in domestic news, I am pleased to announce that Mr Christopher
Leonard will be bringing the Sleekasounds roadshow to The Poetry Cafe Social
in Covent Garden next Friday, 26 January, from 7.30pm. Rumour has it that he
will be joined in his encore by none other than Mrs Murdoch herself, so make
a note in your diaries.  Fun and games and indie-schmindie hi-jinks for all
the family. For more details, directions etc, email me
(poetryplace2 at easynet.co.uk). Still only £3!

HE IS A ROCK HE IS AN ISLAND
I was reading a book last night (it was The Dalkey Archive by Flann O’
rien – highly recommended) and I came across the following nugget: that the
name “Peter” is derived from the Greek word “petros”, which actually means
R!O!C!K!. Well I never. Rock Miller, I salute you.

Stay pressed

Stevie Trousers

PS: To all the people I owe copies of Papercuts, I’ve just got a new batch
printed, and I will despatch them forthwith. Sorry about the delay!



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