This Sick Beat: A Socratic Dialogue

TAYLOR SWIFT: Tell me, Socrates, must the player always play, play, play?

SOCRATES: Well, that depends on what it is to be a player and what it means to play. Could you be more specific?

SWIFT: I’m thinking of the dirty, dirty cheats of the world. Those about whom so many get down and out, while they could be getting down to this sick beat. Alcibiades, for example, abandoned Athens and sought refuge in Sparta, then left Sparta for Persia before finally returning to Athens, leaving an inter-imperial trail of broken hearts.

SOCRATES: Yes, I see. Alcibiades is, in fact, a player who will play, play, play.

SWIFT: Yes, very much so.

SOCRATES: But must he? That is the question at hand.

SWIFT: I believe he must for, consider that the hater must hate, hate, hate, and the faker must fake, fake, fake. Why should the player be different?

SOCRATES: But might people change? Couldn’t something convince the player to stay, stay, stay rather than play, play, play?

SWIFT: Ah, but you see Socrates, it is not the player that decides to stay, stay, stay. Rather, the player becomes a stayer when he ceases to play, play, play.

SOCRATES: So then one must eliminate the other. A player can never stay, stay, stay because, according to you, he would then be a stayer and not a player.

SWIFT: That is correct.

The student has become the master.

SLATER AND GORDON: This law firm represents Ms Taylor Swift in connection with intellectual property rights. Your use of THIS SICK BEAT is a violation of Ms Taylor Swift’s common law trademark rights, common law service mark rights, and trade name rights, and this here text, y'all, constitutes Ms Swift’s demand that you cease and desist any and all use. You should immediately forward this information to your attorney who is to be referred to https://trademarks.justia.com/864/34/this-sick-86434794.html.

SOCRATES: It seems we’ve reached an impasse — you say players will always play, play, play, but its possible for them to appear to stay, stay, stay and yet this makes them a faker who will fake, fake, fake. But if they fake, fake, fake then they do not always play, play, play for there must be at least some stay, stay, stay for otherwise, they only play, play, play and hence, are a player and not a faker.

SLATER AND GORDON: 'Cause we never go out of  style.  https://trademarks.justia.com/864/34/cause-we-never-go-out-of-86434916.html

No stopping them

Since John and I met Shauna last April (Icons passim) the Hang Fire girls have been continuing to conquer the world one rib at a time. It is a privilege to observe them from afar.

 I think perhaps they should be awarded their own label here, but while I thjnk about that why don't we just rekindle singalongablog to mark their interview with Cerys (isn't it boyo).

All together

If all you've got to do today is find peace of mind

Come round you can take a piece of mine

And if all you've got to do today is hesitate

Come here, you can leave it late with me

Yes, Catatonia pretty much summed up work tomorrow, and how I am likely to cope, all those years ago.

Be prepared

It is July tomorrow, I should be thinking what Christmas single I am going to put out in December

A la  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F9Eck6rox0s  I am thinking along the lines of ...

White Christmas - I wanna Christmas
White Christmas - a Christmas of my own
White Christmas - I wanna Christmas
White Christmas - a Christmas of my own

Black people gotta lotta presents
But they don't mind throwing a snowball
While white people go to school
Where they teach you how to program in Cobol

An' everybody's singing
Gloved hands to hold too
An' nobody wants
To go to bed!

White Christmas - I wanna Christmas
White Christmas - a Christmas of my own
White Christmas - I wanna Christmas
White Christmas - a Christmas of my own

All the love is in the air
no one's rich enough to buy it
While we walk the streets
singing carols even as we mince pie it

Everybody's singing
Gloved hands to hold too
Nobody wants
To go to bed!

White Christmas - I wanna Christmas
White Christmas - a Christmas of my own
White Christmas - I wanna Christmas
White Christmas - a Christmas of my own

Are you taking orders?
'cause if you're taking orders
I will have some cocktails
and please bring me some h'orderves

Laughin' Policeman Blues

I know a fat old policeman, he's always on our street.
I know a fat old policeman, he's always on our street.
A fat and jolly red-faced man, he really is a treat.

He's too kind for a policeman, he's never known to frown.
He's too kind for a policeman, he's never known to frown.
And everybody says he is the happiest man in town!

He laughs upon point duty, he laughs upon his beat.
He laughs upon point duty, he laughs upon his beat.
He laughs at everybody when he's walking in the street.

He never can stop laughing, he says he's never tried.
He never can stop laughing, he says he's never tried.
But once he did arrest a man and laughed until he cried!

Oh ho ho ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Oh ho ho ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Ho ho ho ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

His jolly face is wrinkled and then he shut his eyes.
His jolly face is wrinkled and then he shut his eyes.
He opened his great big mouth. It was a wonderous size!

He said "I must arrest you!" He didn't know what for.
He said "I must arrest you!" He didn't know what for.
And then he started laughing until he cracked his fat old jaw.

Oh ho ho ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Oh ho ho ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Ho ho ho ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

So if you chance to meet him while walking 'round the town.
So if you chance to meet him while walking 'round the town.
Shake him by his fat old hand and give him half a crown.

His eyes will beam and sparkle, he'll gurgle with delight.
His eyes will beam and sparkle, he'll gurgle with delight.
And then you'll start him laughing with all his blessed might!

Oh ho ho ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Oh ho ho ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Ho ho ho ho ho ho ho. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Prodnose: It's that crazy it just might work.

Hello, Hello. It's good to be back

Myself: Did you miss me?

Prodnose: Yeah

Myself: While I was away? Did you hang my picture on your wall? Did you kiss me?

Prodnose: Yeah

Myself: Every single day? Although you couldn't kiss me at all? And did you love me?

Prodnose: Yeah

Myself: Odd that. I hardly thought of you.

I'm only dancing

Myself: Dancing?

Prodnose: I'm having so much fun

Myself: Dancing?

Prodnose: Too bad my back has gone

Myself: Dancing?

Prodnose: Boogie down with daddy now. (I'd give my house in the country, if you'd slept it's so funky.)

Myself: Music?

Prodnose: I'm dancing in the street

Myself: Ah, music

Prodnose: I've torn the shoes from my feet

Myself: Romancing?

Prodnose: It's got me dirty and sweet

Myself: It's got you reeling and rocking ....

Prodnose: Won't you let me slam my thing?

Myself: John.....

Prodnose: I'm only dancing

Myself: She turns me on

Prodnose: But I'm only dancing

Containing Multitudes

Myself: In 2011 I will generally be blogging about "a wholesale collapse of British culture, virtue and belief" and how it has led to "increasing fear, lack of trust and abundance of suspicion, long-term increase in violent crime, loneliness, recession, depression, private and public debt, family break-up, divorce, infidelity, bureaucratic and unresponsive public services, dirty hospitals, powerlessness, the rise of racism, excessive paperwork, longer and longer working hours, children who have no parents... seemingly immovable poverty, the permanence of inequality, teenagers with knives, teenagers being knifed, the decline of politeness, aggressive youths, the erosion of our civil liberties and the increase of obsessive surveillance, public authoritarianism, private libertarianism, general pointlessness, political cynicism and a pervading lack of daily joy".

Prodnose: Hook. Poppin' bottles in the ice, like a blizzard. When we drink we do it right gettin' slizzard. Sippin' sizzurp in my ride; in my ride, like Three 6. Now I'm feelin so fly like a G6.

Entire Company: Like a G6, Like a G6. Now, now, now, now, now, now I'm feelin so fly like a G6. Like a G6, Like a G6. Now, now, now, now, now, now I'm feelin so fly like a G6.

Curtain.

mashable

Myself: I was working in the lab late one night, when my eyes beheld an eerie sight, for my monster from his slab began to rise and suddenly to my surprise ..

Prodnose: He did the mash?

Myself: He did the monster mash.

Prodnose: The monster mash?

Myself: It was a graveyard smash.

Prodnose: He did the mash?

Myself: It caught on in a flash.

Prodnose: He did the mash?

Myself: He did the monster mash.

Tempting as it might be to imagine that something like "A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall" was the soundtrack to the Cuban Missile Crisis, it was in fact Bobby Pickett's "Monster Mash" that topped the charts while the world held its breath.

I find this curiously reassuring. "Now everything's cool, Drac's a part of the band and my monster mash is the hit of the land."

I speak of the pompitous

I got the screen shot above just before Gordon Brown's 5pm announcement yesterday. "Statement form Dowing Street" anybody? Jeesh! Come back Lord Reith.

Now that the starting gun has been fired on the selection of a new Labour leader we can begin to deal with important questions.

The main issue is not "should it be David Miliband or Ed Miliband?"

It is "how on earth did Ma and Pa Miliband resist calling one of them Steve?"

If I discover that either Dave or Ed has a son called Steve Miliband I will join the Labour party and vote for him.

Prodnose: Some people call me the space cowboy, yeah
Myself: Some call me the gangster of love
Prodnose: Some people call me Maurice
Myself: Cause I speak of the pompitous of love

One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song

Now there's a word that I don't understand
I hear it every day from my old man
It may be Cockney rhyming slang
It ain't in no school book
He says it every time that he gets mad
A regular caution is my old dad
Rub the old man up the wrong way, bet your life you'll hear him say

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
Goethe!

When the kids are swinging on the gate
Goethe!
When the paperboy's half an hour late
Goethe!
When the pigeons are pecking at his seed
Goethe!
When the farmer (?) starts digging up his weeds (?)
Goethe!

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
Bar stool preaching
That's the old man's game!

Now the old man was a Desert Rat
Khaki shorts and a khaki hat
How me mother could have fancied that
I just don't know
But when the enemy came in sight
They gave up without a fight
They rubbed him up the wrong way
This is what they heard him say

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
Goethe!

When me rock and roll records wake him up
Goethe!
When the Poles knock England out of the cup
Goethe!
When the kids are banging on his door
Goethe!
When the barman won't serve him any more

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
Bar stool preaching
He's always been the same!

(piano solo)

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
Goethe!

When the dog's left a message on the step
Goethe!
Lester Piggott, when he lost it by a neck
Goethe!
When me brother kicks the toes out of his shoes
Goethe!
When the houseflies are flying round his food

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
Bar stool preaching
He's always been the same!

Goethe!
Goethe!
Goethe!
Goethe!

Goethe!
When me mother says he can't go down the pub
Goethe!
Sister's boyfriend put his sister up the club
Goethe!
When the tomcats, when they're kicking up a din
Goethe!
Tottenham Hotspur couldn't get one in
Goethe!
When me mother locks him out of the flat
Goethe!
When it's raining and he can't find his hat
Goethe!
In the mornings when his motorcar won't go
Goethe!
Next-door neighbour, when he won't give him a tow
Goethe!
Goethe!
Goethe!
Goethe!

In taberna quando sumus

For all that it sounds stirring, or even a bit pompous, Carmina Burana is not necessarily about elevated topics. So, as another entry in an emerging series of Sunday morning coming down posts, I give you song 14, while I go off to brew some strong black coffee.

Prodnose: In taberna quando sumus
Myself: When we are in the tavern,

Prodnose: non curamus quid sit humus,
Myself: we do not think how we will go to dust,

Prodnose: sed ad ludum properamus,
Myself: but we hurry to gamble,

Prodnose: cui semper insudamus.
Myself: which always makes us sweat.

Prodnose: Quid agatur in taberna
Myself: What happens in the tavern,

Prodnose: ubi nummus est pincerna,
Myself: where money is host,

Prodnose: hoc est opus ut queratur,
Myself: you may well ask,

Prodnose: si quid loquar, audiatur.
Myself: and hear what I say.

Prodnose: Quidam ludunt, quidam bibunt,
Myself: Some gamble, some drink,

Prodnose: quidam indiscrete vivunt.
Myself: some behave loosely.

Prodnose: Sed in ludo qui morantur,
Myself: But of those who gamble,

Prodnose: ex his quidam denudantur
Myself: some are stripped bare,

Prodnose: quidam ibi vestiuntur,
Myself: some win their clothes here,

Prodnose: quidam saccis induuntur.
Myself: some are dressed in sacks.

Prodnose: Ibi nullus timet mortem
Myself: Here no-one fears death,

Prodnose: sed pro Baccho mittunt sortem:
Myself: but they throw the dice in the name of Bacchus.

Prodnose: Primo pro nummata vini,
Myself: First of all it is to the wine-merchant

Prodnose: ex hac bibunt libertini;
Myself: the libertines drink,

Prodnose: semel bibunt pro captivis,
Myself: one for the prisoners,

Prodnose: post hec bibunt ter pro vivis,
Myself: three for the living,

Prodnose: quater pro Christianis cunctis
Myself: four for all Christians,

Prodnose: quinquies pro fidelibus defunctis,
Myself: five for the faithful dead,

Prodnose: sexies pro sororibus vanis,
Myself: six for the loose sisters,

Prodnose: septies pro militibus silvanis.
Myself: seven for the footpads in the wood,

Prodnose: Octies pro fratribus perversis,
Myself: Eight for the errant brethren,

Prodnose: nonies pro monachis dispersis,
Myself: nine for the dispersed monks,

Prodnose: decies pro navigantibus
Myself: ten for the seamen,

Prodnose: undecies pro discordaniibus,
Myself: eleven for the squabblers,

Prodnose: duodecies pro penitentibus,
Myself: twelve for the penitent,

Prodnose: tredecies pro iter agentibus.
Myself: thirteen for the wayfarers.

Prodnose: Tam pro papa quam pro rege
Myself: To the Pope as to the king

Prodnose: bibunt omnes sine lege.
Myself: they all drink without restraint.

Prodnose: Bibit hera, bibit herus,
Myself: The mistress drinks, the master drinks,

Prodnose: bibit miles, bibit clerus,
Myself: the soldier drinks, the priest drinks,

Prodnose: bibit ille, bibit illa,
Myself: the man drinks, the woman drinks,

Prodnose: bibit servis cum ancilla,
Myself: the servant drinks with the maid,

Prodnose: bibit velox, bibit piger,
Myself: the swift man drinks, the lazy man drinks,

Prodnose: bibit albus, bibit niger,
Myself: the white man drinks, the black man drinks,

Prodnose: bibit constans, bibit vagus,
Myself: the settled man drinks, the wanderer drinks,

Prodnose: bibit rudis, bibit magnus.
Myself: the stupid man drinks, the wise man drinks,

Prodnose: Bibit pauper et egrotus,
Myself: The poor man drinks, the sick man drinks,

Prodnose: bibit exul et ignotus,
Myself: the exile drinks, and the stranger,

Prodnose: bibit puer, bibit canus,
Myself: the boy drinks, the old man drinks,

Prodnose: bibit presul et decanus,
Myself: the bishop drinks, and the deacon,

Prodnose: bibit soror, bibit frater,
Myself: the sister drinks, the brother drinks,

Prodnose: bibit anus, bibit mater,
Myself: the old lady drinks, the mother drinks,

Prodnose: bibit ista, bibit ille,
Myself: this man drinks, that man drinks,

Prodnose: bibunt centum, bibunt mille.
Myself: a hundred drink, a thousand drink.

Prodnose: Parum sexcente nummate
Myself: Six hundred pennies would hardly

Prodnose: durant, cum immoderate
Myself: suffice, if everyone

Prodnose: bibunt omnes sine meta.
Myself: drinks immoderately and immeasurably.

Prodnose: Quamvis bibant mente leta,
Myself: However much they cheerfully drink

Prodnose: sic nos rodunt omnes gentes
Myself: we are the ones whom everyone scolds,

Prodnose: et sic erimus egentes.
Myself: and thus we are destitute.

Prodnose: Qui nos rodunt confundantur
Myself: May those who slander us be cursed

Prodnose: et cum iustis non scribantur.
Myself: and may their names not be written in the book of the righteous.

Realtime "Come Fly With Me"

Come fly with me, let's fly let's fly away

If you can use some exotic booze
There's a bar in far Bombay
Come fly with me, we'll fly, we'll fly away

Come fly with me, lets float down to Peru
In llama land, there's a one man band
And he'll toot his flute for you
Come fly with me, we'll float down in the blue

Once I get you up there, where the air is rarefied
We'll just glide, starry eyed
Once I get you up there, I'll be holding you so near
You may hear, angels cheer - because were together

Weather wise it's .....


You just say the words, and well beat the birds
Down to Acapulco Bay
Its perfect, for a flying honeymoon - they say
Come fly with me, we'll fly ,we'll fly away!
Prodnose: Ring-a-ding baby!

Myself (enigmatically): Cock your hat - angles are attitudes.

Mony Monday

Prodnose: How'd you find yourself this morning?
Myself: I just pulled back the sheets and there I was!

Prodnose: But you're feeling fit, you're ready for duty?
Myself: I toss and turn in the middle of the night, but I feel all right. I say Yeah ..

Prodnose: Yeah?
Myself: Yeah!

Prodnose: Yeah?
Myself: Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! 'Cause you make me feel ..

Prodnose: Mony, mony!
Myself: so ...

Prodnose: Mony, mony!
Myself: good!

Prodnose: Mony, mony!
Myself: so good!

Prodnose: Mony, mony!
Myself: so good!

Prodnose: Can we get on with it then?
Myself: J'errais dans un méandre; J'avais trop de partis, trop compliqués, à prendre; J'ai pris ..

Prodnose: Lequel?
Myself: Mais le plus simple, de beaucoup. J'ai décidé d'être admirable, en tout, pour tout!

Pepe Le Pew: I pierce you with the ack-ack of love, flowerpot.

Ashes to Ashes

David Bowie: I never done good things
Myself: I never done good things

David Bowie:I never done bad things
Myself: I never done bad things

David Bowie:I never did anything out of the blue
Myself: I never did anything out of the blue

David Bowie: Woh-o-oh
Myself: Woh-o-oh

David Bowie: Want an axe to break the ice
Myself: Want an axe to break the ice

David Bowie: Wanna come down right now
Myself: Wanna come down ........

David Bowie: Would you mind just shutting up for five minutes?
Myself (sulkily): I was only trying to help.

David Bowie: Well its getting on my nerves.
Myself (sarcastically): Sorreee

An uncomfortable silence ensues

Myself (muttering under breath): "The shrieking of nothing is killing, just pictures of Jap girls in synthesis". What's that supposed to mean?
David Bowie (taunts): It means I can live off royalties - "you ain't got no money and you ain't got no hair".

Myself: Oh, very clever. Come here and say that! I'll dilate your other pupil mate.
David Bowie: Bring it fatty.

Ashes to ashes, funk to funky
We know Major Tom's a junkie
Strung out in heavens high
Hitting an all-time low

It is unusual

Myself: One, two, three, four!
Prodnose: It's not unusual to be loved by anyone.
Myself: (Although you've just begun.)
Prodnose: It's not unusual to have fun with anyone.
Myself: (You're having fun.)
Prodnose: But when I see you hanging about with anyone, it's not unusual to see me cry, oh I wanna' die.

Guitar: Whah, whah, whah, whah.

Prodnose: It's not unusual to go out at any time.
Myself: (The rhythm and the rhyme)
Prodnose: But when I see you out and about it's such a crime.
Myself: (Are still sublime)
Prodnose: If you should ever want to be loved by anyone, it's not unusual it happens every day.
Myself: (Constantly)
Prodnose: No matter what you say!
Myself: (And to me)
Prodnose: You find it happens all the ti-i-i-i-ime!

Myself: Well?
Prodnose: It's ..... it's ...... it's a singalongablog!
Myself: I know man, you dig it the most. It's not unusual - the very best there is. When you absolutely, positively have less than 100 seconds to kill every MF in the karaoke bar...
Prodnose: Accept no substitutes.

Everybody knows I'm here

Myself: Gypsy woman told my momma
Prodnose: dunu dunu nu

Myself: Before I was born
Prodnose: dunu dunu nu

Myself: You got a boy-child comin'
Prodnose: dunu dunu nu

Myself: Gonna be a son-of-a-gun
Prodnose: dunu dunu nu

Myself: Gonna make these pretty women
Prodnose: dunu dunu nu

Myself: Jump and shout
Prodnose: dunu dunu nu

Myself: And the world will only know, a-what it's all about! Y'know I'm here. Everybody knows I'm here. And I'm the hoochie-coochie man. Everybody knows I'm here.

Prodnose: Do you feel better for that?
Myself: Much better thanks.

Prodnose: Everyone knows you're here now.
Myself: I guess so. Hello everybody.

Prodnose: And?
Myself (conspiratorially): Did I ever tell you I got a black cat bone?

Prodnose (wearily): Many, many times.
Myself: I got a mojo too. I got John the Conqueror, I'm gonna mess with you ..........

Street Fightin' Man

Myself: Help me pull back the furniture. I've got stuff to strut and lyrics to holler in the studiously loutish affected sarf London drawl of His Satanic Majesty, the Glimmer twin, old no-arse himself, Lord Mick of Jagger.

I think the time is right for a palace revolution
'Cause where I live the game to play is compromise solution
Well, then what can a poor boy do
Except to sing for a rock 'n' roll band
'Cause in sleepy London town
There's no place for a street fighting man
No

Prodnose: This is one of these secret message things I suppose, intelligible to a select coterie, possibly resonant for you when revisited in some tranquil future, yet opaque to the great unwashed, and breaching no confidentiality agreements?

Myself (settling into armchair and lighting pipe): Correct! You know my methods Watson, apply them. You will have observed that the "igh" sound in "street fightin' man" is a curious piece of spelling?

Prodnose: What on earth are you on about now?

Myself: Some of Caxton's typesetters were from Holland, and they introduced Dutch spelling conventions into their work. That is where the ‘gh’ in words like ‘ghost’ comes from as well.

Prodnose: That is of very little interest to me.

HotforWords: No, no it's fascinating.

Myself (peeling raw onion and batting eyelashes furiously): Yes it is Marina, yes it is. How little the world understands us. I think it was Swift who said: "When a true genius appears in the world, you may know him by this sign, that the dunces are all in confederacy against him."

HotforWords: My poor lamb, how you suffer!

LackLustre!

You better beware, you better take care
You better watch out if you've got long black hair
He'll come from behind, you go out of your mind
You'd better not go, you'd never know what you'll find

Aah, aah
You look in his eyes, don't be surprised
If you don't know what's going on behind his disguise
Nobody knows where Lustre goes
He'll steal your woman out from under your nose

Does anyone know the way, did we hear someone say
We just haven't got a clue what to do
Does anyone know the way, there's got to be a way
To Lack Lustre!

The cops are out, they're running about
Don't know if they'll ever be able to Lack Lustre out
He's gotta be cought, he's gotta be taught
'Cos he's more evil than anyone here ever thought

Does anyone know the way did we hear someone say
We just haven't got a clue - ow!
Does anyone know the way, there's got to be a way
To Lack Lustre!

Lustre, Lustre, LackLustre!

Prodnose: You just go from bad to worse.
Myself: Why shouldn't I sprinkle as much fairy dust as I please on Sweet's glam classic? We Brits may have taken it in with our mothers' milk, but over the pond it peaked at No. 73 in the Billboard Hot 100. It's practically my patriotic duty to promote it.
Prodnose: Then why the puerile changes to the lyrics?

Myself: An architect may pray in his own cathedral: I shall laugh at my own jokes. Ha ha, and for that matter, hee hee.

Prodnose: But the whole sordid spectacle, isn't it rather undignified for a man of your age and girth?
Myself: Certainly not, but bear with me; this blond page boy wig, these gold platform shoes, and yon satin catsuit are needed to give you the full effect. God is in the details old boy.
Prodnose (thoroughly unmanned): Ah, ummm, I think I may have left the oven on. Bye.
Myself and the Entire Company (reprise: to the wail of a siren and the stomp of boots): You better beware, you better take care ........