Forum Replies Created
-
Posts
-
seen this many a time but it’s still good thistle.
And look at Denis Compton ! He scored a century at Lords against those Aussie chaps this morning, and then, after applying a modest dab of brylcream and crank-starting the old Morris Minor, made it to the football in time to score the winner and put the Arsenal in the jolly old Cup Final !
Where’s me woodbines and me rattle !(actually, more true than you may realise)
@cath 55 wrote:
life!!!!!!!!!
They closed the M25 earlier, near the Stanstead turn-off. I switched engine off, smoked one, demolished the jaffa cakes in the glove compartment (where I have never, ever, kept a pair of gloves), opened door and stretched. My advanced yogic exercises in the fast lane went down quite a storm with the other car-drivers, and I’m glad I had my lilac speedos on. Shared the latest from LBC’s traffic bulletins. Fame at last.
Saw lots of people who were trying to get things moving by staring intently ahead with their arms crossed. Thought about family, JC peeps, and my bunions. Looked at some interesting cloud formations over Epping Forest. Then joined the rubber-neckers who must also be horror film addicts ? I feckin hate rubber-neckers.
wot cath said !
it’s not new, it certainly doesn’t shine, but it is what I’m listening to.
Poetry meets Punk
eric cantona’s dead ?
why didn’t she just get her dad to pay the tax bill ?
Eric must have made bundles playing football……..
agreed, this was the performance that made me rate Paddy Considine a cut above. I believe he co-wrote the screenplay too. I’ve watched him in Backwoods with Gary Oldman this week, and also in The Martins, and am favourably impressed by him in such different roles.
The Shield of Achilles
She looked over his shoulder
For vines and olive trees,
Marble well-governed cities
And ships upon untamed seas,
But there on the shining metal
His hands had put instead
An artificial wilderness
And a sky like lead.A plain without a feature, bare and brown,
No blade of grass, no sign of neighborhood,
Nothing to eat and nowhere to sit down,
Yet, congregated on its blankness, stood
An unintelligible multitude,
A million eyes, a million boots in line,
Without expression, waiting for a sign.Out of the air a voice without a face
Proved by statistics that some cause was just
In tones as dry and level as the place:
No one was cheered and nothing was discussed;
Column by column in a cloud of dust
They marched away enduring a belief
Whose logic brought them, somewhere else, to grief.She looked over his shoulder
For ritual pieties,
White flower-garlanded heifers,
Libation and sacrifice,
But there on the shining metal
Where the altar should have been,
She saw by his flickering forge-light
Quite another scene.Barbed wire enclosed an arbitrary spot
Where bored officials lounged (one cracked a joke)
And sentries sweated for the day was hot:
A crowd of ordinary decent folk
Watched from without and neither moved nor spoke
As three pale figures were led forth and bound
To three posts driven upright in the ground.The mass and majesty of this world, all
That carries weight and always weighs the same
Lay in the hands of others; they were small
And could not hope for help and no help came:
What their foes like to do was done, their shame
Was all the worst could wish; they lost their pride
And died as men before their bodies died.She looked over his shoulder
For athletes at their games,
Men and women in a dance
Moving their sweet limbs
Quick, quick, to music,
But there on the shining shield
His hands had set no dancing-floor
But a weed-choked field.A ragged urchin, aimless and alone,
Loitered about that vacancy; a bird
Flew up to safety from his well-aimed stone:
That girls are raped, that two boys knife a third,
Were axioms to him, who’d never heard
Of any world where promises were kept,
Or one could weep because another wept.The thin-lipped armorer,
Hephaestos, hobbled away,
Thetis of the shining breasts
Cried out in dismay
At what the god had wrought
To please her son, the strong
Iron-hearted man-slaying Achilles
Who would not live long.W.H.Auden
sharongooner wrote:a bad mistake to have made Sharon, while feeling angry
many thanks + I have edited
x@bassingbourne55 wrote:
He deserves to have very close tabs kept on him wherever he goes and comes across as an extremely unpleasant old man even leaving aside the evil things he’s done.
It occurred to me that if he’d chosen a career in a more hard-edged sector of the pop industry, rather than glam-rock poputainment for teenyboppers – say punk, death metal or gansta-rap, Glitter’s notoriety might have been less of a barrier or even boosted his career. After all, Sex Pistols music is still played although one of the group (Sid Vicious) was a murderer.
given the recent and unsavoury American court case involving R Kelly you may well have a point bass. Despite being accused of having sex with an under-age girl (and worse) he even recorded a track about it all.
However, the best Pistols music was made before Sid joined the band, and afterwards when the album was recorded, he was in fact so incapable that the lead guitarist had to play the bass instead.
I remember watching a documentary about Glitter some time ago. A quietly spoken woman appeared who was the best friend of his daughter back in the seventies. She stayed overnight at his palatial Surrey dwelling and described how exciting it was having a sleepover at the mansion of a much loved pop star.
During the night she found this animal on top of her having full intercourse. Not knowing what was really going on, this brave woman explained on national television how she had a shower afterwards and never said anything to anybody until much older. She was eight years old at the time. ………
Yes, evil in two foot high silver boots but how many other victims are out there ?
I agree with Sword, in this case his celebrity status will allow for constant monitoring, whereas most offenders will disappear under the radar.
