Liar, liar, Alex on fire...

Yesterday, the hot wire story informed us that Her Majestys Rapacious Coercive (HMRC to  you) has insufficient tax experts in its' ranks, to tackle big business and its phalanx of tax avoidance...sorry, mitigation boffins. Was it ever thus. In common or garden speak, the people that make the rules, ain't as smart as those that break the rules.
It follows therefore, that it's far easier for the aforementioned Coercive to nail small business for every brass farthing due.. Now, don't get me wrong. I believe we should all pay taxes, due. However, in these ascetic times, when small businesses in particular, are hard-pressed merely to subsist, it does seem ironic in the least and plain wrong at best, to witness grandissimo fleecing of the people who, by and large, are least responsible for our economic woes, by those wankers (government of whatever persuasion) who fiddled (and then some) while Rome burned.
It's odd how capitalism can seem so...North Korean at times.
Anyway, i've been at the bugging again and can now exclusively reveal details of HMRC Chief Tax Collector Dave Hartnett's no nonsense meeting with Jim O'Neill, Goldigger Sachs Chairman, over outstanding tax and late payment interest...
Dave (for it is he) 'So Jimbo, what about this £20 million of unpaid tax then?'
Jimbo...'Er, how about lunch at Claridges, Dave?'
Dave...Fuck it, Jimbo. You know how to turn a boy's head'.
Jimbo...'Whose turn is it to pay?'
Dave...Why the fuckin' taxpayer, of course.'
Gales of laughter and popping of pre-lunch champagne corks.
Moving on...and before today's musical interlude, how I laughed when I heard Piers Moron's answer to the question of whether or not he was aware of phone hacking during his 'dear leadership' of the Daily Mirror, at the Leveson Inquiry...'To the best of my recollection, I do not believe so. I was not personally involved and all journalists knew they had to operate within the law'.
'Herr Hitler, were you aware of the genocide of 6 million Jews during the holocaust?'
'To the best of my recollection, I do not believe so. I voss not personally involved and Herr Himmler knew he had to operate within the Geneva Convention'.
I mean no offence. But with the greatest of respect, you wouldn't believe either, would you?'

Music...Another gentleman no longer with us. Incredibly, would have been 76 this year. Like so many of those flawed genius types, he was never going to get there, but entertained us royally whilst he was around. I never saw Alex Harvey in concert, so the clip I've posted, represents what I missed. However, at least there's still plenty of material around to enjoy. A true entertainer and all round bampot. Classic stuff. Luxuriate in all that is The Sensational Alex...

All in it together...

I see from last night's news and today's press, one of Prince Harry's bestest chums was mugged. Harry is now a hero, for sorting it all out...well, he phoned Plod and said, 'gosh, friend, robbed, Blackberry, you're ma' best pal, blaaaargh'.
My investigations (courtesy of some deep-throat phone tapping) reveal the true tale. It would appear that Tarquin Faw-Faw III was quietly becoming pished in Club Toffee-Arse, when some bounder stole the maraschino cherry from his favourite 'Shoot the Proletariat' cocktail. To make matters worse, the small gold embossed sword through which said fruit was skewered, was left tantalizingly perched on the edge of the glass, atop a single black velvet glove with the epithet 'WaNkA' and an appropriate hand gesture symbol inlaid in gold leaf.
Upon receiving a call from his deeply distressed buddy, Harry swept into action, without the merest fear for his own safety. He bravely finished the seven remaining courses of his light supper at Chez Silver Spoon, quaffed a HALF carafe of Chateau Mouton Rothschild (well, we're all in this together you know) and asked his fag to call 'those plebs with the moustaches' to get a number for Gran's Finest Filth and pass on his own deep shock at this 'jolly monstrous' turn of events.
So, there you have it. Hazzer to the rescue. All in a day's work for the Monarchy. Makes you proud to be from Great Britainshire (wipes tear from eye, salutes and sings national anthem).
Before I announce today's track, I also heard the disturbing tale of Marcin Kasprzak, who bound and gagged his fiance, before burying her alive in a cardboard box. Fortunately, the girl escaped and this useless piece of shit will do time for attempted murder. Given the fact that this has at least a semblance of a happy ending, I did manage a wry smile when it was reported that Kasprzak had only wanted to 'give her a fright'. Say fuckin' what?!? Whatever happened to jumping out from behind the toilet door and going 'boo'? A lot less arduous on the victim and unless the law has taken some dramatic turn of which I am unaware, not punishable with jail time. Tosser.

Let sanity prevail...music. My first ever gig, was at Greens Playhouse, City of Glesga', to see the late and so very great Rory Gallagher. I was 14 and sad to say, I remember very little about it, but the fleeting flashbacks assure me that I would have been blown asunder by the great man, close to or at the peak of his powers. I've always loved 'Live in Europe'. Still got it on vinyl and the track I've chosen, shows the versatility of the man, kickin the bejesus out of a mandolin rather than his trademark '61 Strat. If this doesn't have you leaping about like Michael Flatley on acid, you're dead already pardner.
Enjoy, with my compliments...

Reminiscenses gone astray...

It's been a while since I posted 'owt. It's not that I've run out of steam, but Planet Mad is so mad just now, parodying it, seems somehow like interfering with the most colossal self-fulfilling prophecy. For example, not so long ago I posted about Newt Gingrich, surely a jaw dropping satire of a potential future President of the USofA. He faded away on the Good Ship Obscurity as he was surely destined to and then...bloody hell, he's just reappeared as a serious prospect, because so many of the other hopefuls are such fuckin' contemptible maladroits. I know...it's America. Land of Reagan, where shit actors CAN be ElPrez. I'm just performing my civic duty in warning you of the dangers lurking across the Pond...
Anyway listen, 'tis the season to be exhibiting mirth, so I'm veering off my usual semi-foul mouthed tirades and turning to my eternal salvation...music. I'm also posting this for all my fans (Sid and Doris Bonkers) simultaneously, on Farcebook. Whoooo, I've gone all hi-tech. In truth, I was questioning the wisdom of continually blogging to mostly myself, so if anyone (virtually everyone) hasn't encountered my previous ramblings, you're now in for a treat (in my humble opinion). However, don't read them if you don't relish opinions or occasional swearing. I'm not responsible for any of my views (I didn't ASK to be born) and you can lose your property if you don't keep up repayments...disclaimer speak.
Back to the tunes. Given this time of year (reflection and all that) I'm just going to post some U-Choob bits and bobs, featuring faves that transport me to my lovely, lovely youth. Many of the artists are no longer on Planet Mad and whilst I don't want to go all maudlin, it seems kinda appropriate to remind everyone of some outstanding musicians sadly missed, given the sheer volume of utter pish that is mass produced today, with no small contributions from Overlord Cowell and his ilk.
All of that said, today will not be a 'missing' person. 'Book of Saturday' by the mighty King Crimson, is one of those tracks that never fails to surprise and delight me, simply because  it comes from a band and Prog era that did not regularly feature such delicate and achingly beautiful sparseness of arrangement. Additionally, the lyrical and vocal perfection of Mr John Wetton, a musical stalwart, means that it should never be covered by another soul, as long as I have the ability to purchase a firearm and take care of them. The album version is frankly, perfection. The live version attached for your delectation though, is faithful and entirely sympathetic to that original, just as it should be, given it is performed by the same artist, albeit about 18 years later.

Enjoy...you simply can't fail.