Is Paranoia Good for You?


Hello Good People who read this blog….

I’m not really sure what I am going to write in this blog, and that’s because I am paranoid that perhaps you aren’t going to like it, actually I am writing this blog rant because I have to go to a thing tomorrow that is making me totally paranoid but I am too paranoid to tell you what it is…perhaps with more wine and time, I will…..maybe you should be paranoid because in reading this blog you are associating yourself with a deeply subversive person and therefore your ip address or your phone will become linked to me and they will track you down and watch you from now on. Am I being paranoid? Yes! But paranoia is a good thing.

The problem with positive thinking is that it is essentially for the easily brainwashed oppressively dull people of this world.  Let me give you the example of a dog I used to know, to protect his identity I will call him ‘Rufus’.

Rufus used to like to bark at postmen, at tall males in general, he barked at rustling sounds during the night that were outside near the front porch and laughed himself into a frenzy if you tried to do yoga in the living room, silly humans!

Rufus also liked to steal tuna sandwiches and  a sausage or two. He happily lived in a house with nice subversive and cultured people who loved books, music and art… and when the family were sitting down eating dinner and having heated discussions about the arts, he liked to quietly steal the odd morsel off their plates and so he thought he was a very clever dog and that his human family were rather silly not to notice his little tricks.

However this nice family had a next door neighbour called Dave who was not so cultured or nice. Dave would come round with little sausages and the odd tuna sandwich to give to Rufus and they became best friends. Rufus couldn’t wait for Dave to come round and to pat him and give him tasty treats. The dog didn’t question Dave’s motives or politics, he just thought he smelt rather nice. However it turned out Dave was a policeman who used to like arresting people just because it was fun and that they weren’t English, and Dave was also a chauvinistic womanizer with no morals who framed people he didn’t like the look of and indulged in a bit of violence whenever he could get away with it.  Dave never really read a book and was annoying all the nice people living in that house who were also quite scared of him. But all Rufus saw, tasted and smelt were the nice sausages and tuna sandwiches and he liked being patted by his new best friend.

Rufus the dog exemplifies people who say that the glass is half full instead of half empty. Rufus should have barked at the nasty man but he wasn’t paranoid enough.

I say: Who gave you the glass? Why did they give it to you? What do they want? If it’s half full what is it half full of? Is it mineral water or is it more likely to be bleach? That’s how my mind works, I know it’s meant be bad to be paranoid, but it’s taken me years to get this way. I have worked on becoming paranoid without (too much) insanity,  and I think paranoia shows your brain is switched on. This was meant to be a fun post but perhaps has become a serious one, perhaps it is both..because I think that accepting and validating some level of paranoia is a good way to operate most of the time, not only that, but the longer you live in a city like London and use the internet or a smart phone or even a travel card, or a debit card and are a little bit subversive, the more you should value some forms of paranoia. Before I continue I am going to put some music on. Listen to it while indulging in your favourite vice, but don’t tell anyone what your vice is, they could turn it against you ( see how I cultivate a healthy degree of paranoia?)

Here is my first music video, it isn’t Black Sabbath’s Paranoid but it’s Riders on the Storm (The Doors) as interpreted by Infected Mushroom (2007). Many of the world’s best songs, stories, and thoughts are generated by paranoia, not through waiting for the nice man to turn up with a tuna sandwich. See the rather amazing video animation below! I just realised this was released in Israel and made by Israelis which is probably why it is been ‘unliked’ so many times on YouTube. Just want to point out that I am not pro-Israeli government policy, but that doesn’t mean all people who happen to be Israeli are evil! I am not pro-British government policy, but I am British so anyway… I don’t want to get into this debate even with myself!

As some of you may know this brilliant animation was made by Anthony Francisco Scheppherd (https://vimeo.com/anthonyschepperd) for a song called The Music Scene by Blockhead. I have to say that I think this superb video goes better with this cover of the Doors classic hit. I think I have become addicted to both this video and this new version after I got over the initial shock of hearing such a familiar song being tampered with. Both the music and the video seem to get better, and I notice new details in both sound and the visuals each time I watch it.

OK so now that’s made me a little paranoid but not too much. Everyone who doesn’t like Infected Mushroom or Israelis might now dislike my blog. The thing is I really don’t care whether you like or dislike what I write, due to something we used to call ‘free speech’ which has been replaced in 2018 with ‘be careful with what you say because other people might get upset’. That is another kind of paranoia.

I think there is positive paranoia, but just saying stuff that goes with the crowd to be approved of is not the kind of paranoia I want to indulge in, unless it is essential. I don’t really know what is going on at the moment with the British Labour party. Is taking an anti-Israeli government stance related to antisemitism? Let’s just say that all the Jewish people I know are : 1. atheists 2. very subversive 3. find Israeli politics very embarrassing and upsetting 4. find the British Conservative party and Donald Trump equally offensive 5. are not really interested in that kind of ‘organised nationalistic politics’ anyway. I was going to write more but need to go to bed… I shall have to write more about  paranoia another time…so goodnight British blog readers, good morning American blog readers, hello to everyone else. All nationalities and religions or none are welcome to my blogspace. I will leave you with more music but it’s still not Black Sabbath’s Paranoid, instead it’s War Pigs and a Whole Lotta Love splendidly blended together by Wax Audio. Love and Peace and end Nationalism! We are all sharing this planet and we need to work together to stop climate change, focus on that!

 

 

 

They don’t answer my emails because they don’t know I am the Messiah


Hello Good People who read this blog…

Yes I am still alive, very alive, so alive I cannot sleep on this night under the full moon of Friday the 13th. I felt wired remembering the stressful trifles of today, I wish they were sherry trifles, and I wish that when I said ‘trifles’ I could convince myself that they were relatively insignificant things that I worried about too much and that I was therefore to blame, but no these ‘trifles’ are big  hairy scary angry monsters.

I never read the book ‘Don’t sweat the small stuff’. The title tells me all I need to know, someone condescending telling me to pull myself together and to ‘Calm down dear!’ The thing is it’s not so much the  unanswered emails to important requests which drive me crazy in themselves, it’s the daily ageism, sexism and being treated like I am totally insignificant as a human being and that nothing I ever have to say or do is of any importance. It’s not two unanswered emails, after all my dear kind friends know how useless I am at answering their lovely emails myself when I am too busy, but it’s the 1000th and 1000 and 1th unanswered emails to urgent and important things that are driving me crazy.

Here is some music to give the atmosphere of how I was feeling as I walked out under the full moon on a clear cold winter’s night for a walk at 1.30 am with a rock in my pocket.

Led Zeppelin- No Quarter. This  one might be a semitone higher than usual but wanted to have the film in. Get the film ‘The song remains the same’ .

 

The rock I had in my pocket was important because I wanted to hold it up to the full moon and enthuse it with Moon Goddess spells, chanting things like ‘Please let me accepted and no longer be ignored and let people want to answer my emails for important things and realise that I actually matter enough for a reply regardless of outcome”.

Actually I said that quite a few times!

Why don’t you write me –Simon and Garfunkel

And I also asked the Moon or the Goddess or the cosmos to ‘Let me do good in the world, let people notice me but not for my beauty or age or some trivial superficial thing but let them accept me because I  want to do something important to bring peace in the world!’ Ok so now I have visions of dear departed Rik Mayal in this clip in Bottom:

We should never take ourselves too seriously but I also I could be the Messiah! Who knows? Then everyone would answer my important emails and text messages instead of ignoring me and my checking all my stupid devices all the time! Technology makes me feel so stressed and insignificant I can’t understand why people Twitter. I think Donal Trump must be the ultimate twat Twitterer and an advertisement for stupid people to Tweet or worse still ‘reTweet’ nonsense.

Speaking of Trump, let’s sit by the fire and listen to some anti-Trump music. Earlier while struggling to sleep I kept hearing the lyrics to this song, pure poetry, and just a great expansive song, like you start with the details of the streets and the everyday/every night experiences mixed into poetry and then it expands and expands into 10 thousand people maybe more… etc. Sheer brilliance, don’t know what it is about but it makes me feel good and I love hearing it. My subconscious seems to be tuning into Paul Simon tonight and I do not know  why, perhaps he will be the next classic pop musician to die or perhaps I am the messiah and Paul Simon and perhaps  Garfunkel will appear on my doorstep.

I also asked my rock, while I went out for a walk under the full moon for a lot of world peace a lot of the time. I thought about different aspects of politics.

 I realised the other day after thinking a while that Socialism is not the same as being anti-materialistic. All the ageing socialists I  know have bought their council flat, own a car, and  go for bloody good long holidays and have a pension, and drink smoothies made with their overpriced ‘bullets’. I am sure that drinking smoothies is good for you but they make me feel like I want to puke.

Plus I cannot cope with this obsession with hemp seeds. Plant them and they make very big pretty plants in your living room, which look like cannabis plants. Your neighbours and other official people dropping by will believe you are growing your own, even if you try to hide them behind the curtains they have a habit of  popping out and waving their instantly recognisable leaves to all and sundry. The reason why I spent £3.99 on a big bag of  hemp seeds was because a friend told me he  felt so much better after taking a herbal remedy called CBD and he told me  how much calmer he felt. I went to my health food shop and found 1. CBD was made of hemp seeds, 2. CBD cost over £20, 3. a bloody big bag of  Hemp seeds cost only £3.99. (Sorry I feel like I need to say bloody a lot tonight but since I am possibly the messiah it’s OK).

Now I am not a socialist who respects myself enough to have a reasonably paid job, no,  instead I  am the idiot who chose to be a non-materialistic hippie creative intellectual all my life, so I had to buy the bag of cheap hemp seeds. They look great, it takes me back. If you put them in a folded bit of paper with a bit of dried oregano, then it looks like the  Jamaican grass deals of the old days when we thought smoking dope cured asthma, didn’t risk turning you into a paranoid schizophrenic, and made you look cool. Instead it just made us make bloody good music and invent stories and make great art, and sit drinking cups of tea listening to Gong, Hendrix, Hawkwind, Steve Hillage and Here & Now, Pink Floyd  and  basically my entire vinyl collection which I still own but have no record player to play them on. So instead I’ll play a little now.

Gong:

My rock hasn’t saved the world, I am not the Messiah, my important emails remain unanswered, the nightmares of Donald Trump, Marine le Pen, Nigel Farage, Putin, Islamic extremism, all politics of hatred, Global Warming, poor people coming here and ending up on the streets at 2am in the freezing cold in London remain. But now I feel at peace with myself and so send this out to you. This is my ultimate unanswered email. Let the Moon Goddess if she exists, bring power to the kind-hearted people of this world, and let the bullies fight amongst themselves and leave the rest of us to live in a peaceful world where everyone has a decent life materially but where materialism and achievement are not the most important things in the world. Sometimes apologising and being humble is a sign of deep strength.

Imagine:

Leaving you with another tune,

Love and Peace

Born2rant

Bloc 2012 Festival Review


Bloc Festival Review or why you shouldn’t try to have a good festival in a paranoid London devoid of all common sense.

Hello Good People who might read this blog….


Postscript July 10th 2012: When I wrote this post, it was from a confused punter’s perspective, I’d just experienced the festival ,left early and the next day was trying to make sense of it ( and also review the music in my own daft way). I start off blaming health and safety rules being over the top then get very worried as I leave, due to angry crowds outside and  people being cramped and prevented from going where they wanted inside . Since then I heard a totally different story from the  festival crew, which I wrote on July 7th. I now feel totally differently about the whole thing. If the information which was told to me was correct, then I think that some people  were neglectful of public safety to different degrees and maybe when large sums of money and major investments are involved, we really do need health and safety rules.


It’s been a long time, sorry about that, I did start writing this blog under my real name but it didn’t really work, so here I am back briefly as Born2rant, to write about a festival I went to yesterday that could have been great, but which I decided to leave before it all went to pieces.

This will only be a review of my limited experiences. I guess I arrived at the Bloc festival site at London’s Pleasure Gardens around 4.30pm by 10pm I decided it was sensible to leave but had a lot of difficulty getting out.

I was due to hang out on the ship MS Stubnitz, which has successfully been sailing around Germany as a mobile art installation and general chilling out party place for some time. It takes coming to crazy Britain for the Germans to realise they are far better off back home where things are more liberal, the state has less control, and the general public has not lost its ability to make individual sensible decisions without external legislation. Forget gloating about how great and wonderful the British are when I was trying to leave the Bloc festival, it was like trying to escape from a “psychedelic concentration camp” and that was entirely due to Great Union-Jack waving, right Royal Diamond Jubilee, aren’t we proud to be having the Olympics in London, paranoid British madness.

I arrived at Pontoon Dock around 4.15pm. There seemed to be a lot of stressed out people in orange jackets obstructing the oyster card bleeping machines, so people got confused where to “touch out”. They ushered me to a bridge to cross over the road and immediately my bag was searched, then further on more people in orange jackets asking me for a ticket. Other punters were clutching tickets printed out from the internet, I thought that strange to start with, it might be OK for using a budget airline, but without computers, scanners, ID and a whole big security system how can you tell if a computer print-out is genuine? I asked where the guest entrance was after some confusion I was directed to a gate a few minutes walk away.

At the guest entrance I had my bag searched again, then a sniffer dog climbed up the back of my legs, then my bag was searched AGAIN!!!! I complained politely but complied. They couldn’t find my name on the guest list but gave me a wristband anyway because I was saying all the right names. I had to put the wristband on myself, also a bit strange.

It took me a few minutes to chill out after all the security measures, and dealing with stressed out people, lots of security guards on the site, and mobile CCTV units, but the security man I spoke to was friendly enough and to be fair all the police people I spoke to during the course of the day were polite, but then all the paying public I met at the festival were also extremely patient and polite considering we were treated like dangerous animals throughout the festival, and the people who payed £125 per weekend ticket must have been peeved.

At first I went on the ship, the MS Stubnitz where I had a great time. In Germany they do not have many health and safety regulations, and do not scream announcements to passengers on the tube to say that due to a little drizzle that people are bound to fall over and kill themselves on the potentially slippery floor. Therefore I think the general public were probably quite shocked to be on an actual fishing ship with many steps, some damp from rain, and bits of metal to step over, no warning signs and generally to be in a place where you actually had to take responsibility for yourself and keep yourself sober enough to watch what you did. Also there was a big central hole leading from one deck to another, this had some fencing and chains around it to stop people falling in.  From the all dancing deck below, I could see many punters going to the edge of the hole and testing to see if the fence was secure. I felt like saying “You are at a festival, you are free to enjoy yourselves now, so forget the fences, forget health and security rules and just enjoy the lack of them for once”. I feel that the British public and especially Londoners, are brainwashed at all times to seek fences and rules in order to feel safe. Of course bad things could and do happen, but life is dangerous, you can’t control everything, get over it and try to enjoy life!

People on the ship were having a good time, somehow in spite of sniffer dogs and CCTV everywhere, the odd person was skinning up on the top deck, most sat drinking beer, smiling beneath the warm sun bouncing off their sunglasses. Below many moved to the music whilst taking copious pictures of the ship on their phones. Downstairs there were at least two bars and padded “seating bars” around tables where they used to freeze and chop fish. The ship was an awesome place to have different party rooms, the angular industrial music bounced off the ship’s hull in a suitably sheet metal way.

My only gripe about the ship was the music, I would have preferred dancing to Led Zep’s Immigrant Song, that would have been perfect or some kind of heavy metal version of  the Ride of the Valkyries would have been great.Here is some Led Zeppelin with  The Song Remains the Same just for effect,old fart I am!

But the DJ I heard on the Stubnitz was mixing French café style accordion music with deafening heart-stopping bass and drum music, note I did not write “drum ‘n’ bass”. I am too old and psychedelic to know what type of dance music I was listening to but it was experi and mental. I left the relaxed atmosphere of the MS Stubnitz to go and see Steve Reich around 6pm.

This was another “odd thing” , I noticed that they put some of the biggest crowd-pullers on early on both evenings even though the music ended at 6 a.m. Gary Numan was due to be on at 6pm the following day (today). I started to realise that maybe there were “problems” with the festival. Well to be fair all festivals have problems, they are always a headache to run for the organisers but some are worse than others. You really need to know what you are doing when you run a festival, especially if you plan to run it in a dock full of water and then place barriers so people can’t get out.

I found the hugest biggest queue  zigzagging its way round a small bit of the site, but people were patient and well-behaved, I hardly saw anyone attempt to push in. I must have queued for over 20 minutes, everyone was saying they’d never seen anything like this and we could hear Mr. Reich playing from outside, we could not understand why security did not seem to be letting anyone in.

Once we got in the tent was only a third full and yet he had been playing for over 30 minutes. The sound quality was not good, the audience was pretty thin, so this did not help the general feel of the gig. Many people were waiting for their friends to be allowed in.

While watching Steve Reich there were times when I wanted to sit down or leave, but both options were difficult from where I was standing, once people were allowed in from their long queuing they tended to head into the crowd and stand and the only way out I could see was through the entrance with hundreds and hundreds of people blocking the way. I looked around and saw there was a zip in the side of the tent, if I’d been feeling trapped I thought I could always use it to get the hell out.

As people slowly and steadily dribbled into the tent, while many left, the music livened up a bit. This was when a full rock band ensemble in the form of Bang on a Can, complete with sheet music,  started to play. It was enjoyable but stilted at first. They sounded like ‘Yes’ doing a version of Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells, in fact I was beginning to wonder if Steve Reich had been listening to the final few minutes of Tubular Bells when he wrote it. I’m sure others must have thought the same as me! But then I decided that perhaps Steve Reich  wrote it first and Mike Oldfield and Yes who copied his style. Playing repeated patterns in unusual time signatures is the link. Steve Reich must be far more influential than I realised and I must listen to more of his stuff.

Here is Bang on a Can playing Steve Reich’s  2x 5 (2008)

( turn the volume up first, sorry about any ads that come up, try AdBlock)

But although Steve Reich is no doubt a genius and influenced Yes,

I’m afraid I much prefer the following clip which sounds remarkably similar,

compare the two introductions!

Perpetual Change by Yes  (1971)

OK I digress but it’s my blog so I can, and hopefully not bore the pants off you

After Steve Reich I couldn’t get back onto the ship because by now there were long queues and barriers preventing people from going on board, this made good sense to me because it was quite crowded and there was only one way on or off, unless you jumped into the water, but I still think that if people were left to their own devices that they could have managed to see it was too crowded before boarding instead of being restrained like stupid sheep.

I went for a walk about but there wasn’t a whole lot else going on, the cheapest Amber Leaf rolling tobacco on site was a staggering £7, so I decided to go to the local shop. I couldn’t find the way out as described on the map, so I went to the main way in. There were by now already hundreds of people stuck outside the entrance, and the security process was slow and they were clearly not in a hurry to let anyone in, I have never seen anything like it before, they allowed just a handful of people in then would let them wait a few minutes before letting in another few people, meanwhile crowds were building up outside.

I asked one security guard if I could go out and come back in again. He said “NO” sternly. I explained that I had a weekend ticket. He just said “You can’t leave till later and when you do leave, you can’t come back in again”. Since there were no camping facilities, I decided he was stressed out and uninformed and I continued to look for the exit but couldn’t find one, I asked another security guard but he didn’t seem to know anything.

Then I looked for the queue to go and watch Amon Tobin on the main stage. Another very long queue, at one point that queue got muddled into the ship queue and no one knew what they were queuing for or where the queues ended. After queuing for 20 minutes in the crowded area outside, I found the main tent almost empty once I got in.

It made no bloody sense at all.

This was a joke, why was everyone queuing outside virtually empty tents in a limited area surrounded by deep water, since the whole festival was in fact at an old dock?

Amon Tobin  came on. The 3D projections were fantastic. They had a big installation of a kind of cube shaped wall, I’d seen similar things at multi-media art installations, but this was huge and exciting to start with. Amon Tobin was inside one of the cubes which was see-through, it was a bit “Spinal Tap” but I’d rather have seen Spinal Tap.  I was bored, maybe if the sound had been better I would have enjoyed it. Like so much music in 2012, the visual element seems to be more creative and interesting than the sound itself. Maybe you disagree, here is a clip, it sounds better than I remember , it was visually stunning but after a while it was repetitive ( sorry Amon,I’m sure you are a nice guy, it’s just not my kind of thing)

While I was watching the show, all around me a load of very drunk vertically challenged girls wearing too much fake tan, too much make-up, with silly hats and no clothing but a few bits of white fur and denim, were hugging each other violently and squealing. They took millions of photos of each other to put online, they disregarded the music which was very loud and hard to ignore. On the side of the stage there was  a guy pointing a camera on the audience in a type of steering-wheel shaped frame, which I thought might be a CCTV camera scanning the few people that were allowed in. I decided it was not worth sacrificing my hearing for this, and being sober and not having a set of friends to hug, I decided to go outside to look for something else to do.

By this time there were a lot more people just hanging around outside trying to get into the various venues, queues here and queues there, it was ridiculous. Then when I walked past the main gate even more people were even more tightly packed and waiting to get in and being processed at a snail’s pace as if they didn’t actually want to let them in. Those waiting outside seemed remarkably patient, I am sure some of them had maybe shelled out £55 just to see Amon Tobin , the festival was sold out, but they were unable to get in, others may have paid £125 for the two days and the last DLR train back home would not leave that late.  I felt very sorry for these people waiting, thinking that they might not get in for more than a hour or two before they’d have to go home again. I went for a walk around the dock like others who got fed up with the queues. Thirty minutes later the crowds trying to get in were chanting and then someone let off a flare, the exiled crowd cheered, I wandered off for a bit enjoying the sunset and beautiful clouds, the weather was fantastic and there were some nice walks around the dock away from everyone.

But when I came back to the entrance the people waiting to get in had disappeared, something had happened. Inside the festival the crowds were growing a bit and all this queuing was taking up a lot of space, although walking around was no problem, but it was a pain to queue up all the time, I decided since it was dark to go home and come back the following afternoon. I still could not find the exit and a security guard suggested I went out through the main gate. Since there were no crowds left on the other side of the main gate, I thought that maybe they had all got in, but I could hear “booing” not far away. There were many metal barriers, in my way and I had to climb and crawl here and there, there were many security people thinking of not letting me out, and then telling me it was OK to leave, none of them directed me to the proper exit, if indeed there was one.

I got to stairs that led into the main road and then I was quite surprised at what I saw. A double police line at the top of the stairs, plus many more security guards and on the steps a huge crowd, well-behaved, but angry and a few shouting. Well wouldn’t you be, if two of the main acts had already been on, and you’d paid £125 for a ticket to get in?

The police were very calm at that point, some stood with their arms crossed smiling, they seemed surprised that I wanted to leave, they also could not tell me of another exit and they were very polite, and helped me to get out. As I went down the steps some man grabbed me and asked me a question and I pulled away and ignored him, then this other woman shouted to me and asked me if there was trouble inside, if it was safe to go in. I said “Yes it’s fine. It’s great!” but afterwards I thought maybe I should have told her about the amount of pointless queuing you had to do to get to see any act.

After I crossed the road to get into the station I turned around and then I realised that things were seriously wrong. I hadn’t realised just how many people were queuing to get in, there were in my rough estimation at least two thousand, booing. It occurred to me then  that either they had sold far too many tickets and had hoped to stagger the crowds by putting the main acts on at 6pm, or perhaps that having a computer print-out had allowed a lot of people to forge tickets. What I couldn’t believe is that there were ticket touts still trying to buy tickets off the queuing punters, it was clearly a nightmare situation by the large crowds unable to get in.

I worried then for my son who was working there and for all the people there because if everyone had got on the site and they continued to deny people access to all the stages, then it would be overcrowded and tempers would flare especially by 6 a.m. The thing is, the tickets were expensive, most people who were going there were well-dressed, calm, extremely patient and mostly seemed  sober and compliant with the law, but we were treated like we were criminals before we even got in. It was a disgrace. It was like being kettled and herded the whole time but at a paying gig. We were not  going to a riot, it wasn’t a political demo, in fact there were no politics in evidence of any kind, not even an Amnesty International stall.

After an anxious night I got a call from my son this morning to say he was fine.

It did get overcrowded and they had to get all the stages and DJs to shut down  the music at midnight, then the police cleared the whole area. There was another big stand-off with the police and a bit of trouble, nothing major that he knew of, none at all on the ship where the good vibe remained throughout.

I wonder now how people managed to get home from the middle of nowhere at Midnight or 1 a.m.. My son stayed there overnight. He seemed to think only one person got hurt with concussion but this whole queuing/kettling technique to deal with the crowds caused a lot of the trouble and people were very angry that they were not allowed to see the artists they had paid to go and see.

I hope there were no further injuries. The rest of the festival is cancelled. I wonder if they’d had no barriers at all,  if  just maybe people would be sensible enough to come and go as they pleased.

In less paranoid times, with an atmosphere of caring for one another and looking where you tread, could a few roadies and stewards, a St. John’s Ambulance, a fire  engine and maybe a few lifebuoys, be more than enough to keep this festival safe?

Will the police be kettling people all through the Olympic games for their own safety?

I need a musical interval, this next song was ringing through my head as I took the DLR home, very worried about my son and everyone left at the festival. In spite of my ranting about health and safety regulations, given the situation and the fact that people couldn’t leave easily, I am glad they stopped everyone from getting in, it could have been a dangerous situation, due to the tensions building up over a number of hours as well as the size of the crowd outside.

The Clash – London Calling (1979)

They should just have removed the barriers so people could leave at least!

The festival was sold out, did they sell too many tickets ? I can’t see that several thousand people would forge tickets.

 If you were there and want to say something please leave a comment.

Gary Numan who was due to play today, Down In the Park

Love and Peace

Born2rant

 

Day 2 at my Imaginary Glastonbury- Saturday


Hello Good People who still sometimes read this blog…

(still editing this, sorry about errors, it was written in free-flowing time)

In a fit of self-serving blogging to cheer me up, I am going to bore you all with Day Two of my imaginary ideal Glastonbury.

It’s Saturday , so it will be a long day. Weather is cloudy and unsettled, but hey it’s not raining. I got wellies on for the mud and last night had an imaginary sing song with bearded dread-locked strangers playing djembe by the fire until dawn, sharing bottles of scrumpy, herbal cigarettes,many jokes and looking up to spot shooting stars. I was woken up by the dawn chorus of birds and grumpy young tikes, am a bit dazed, but am looking forwards to foraging for breakfast and a cup of good coffee, and to see if there are any solar powered showers.  Can smell lovely bacon but am trying to be veggie. Maybe I can find a nice veggie sausage alternative.
By the time my physical needs are slowly sorted, it should be time for the first act of today ( at my imaginary Glastonbury…cheaper than the real one and with some of my favourite bands).

Led Zeppelin are billed on the Folk Garden Stage, ( playing electric later on Mainstage). Great, that will do to start my day. This pedal-powered stage is adorned with flowerbeds   and with creeping honey suckle plants hanging over the stage instead of a lighting rig ( this is not evident in the footage I have chosen…you need to use your imagination).
Going to California – Led Zeppelin

Well after that beautiful acoustic performance, I sit down on a bale of hay and chat to Jimmy Page about his acoustic guitar tunings and smile at Robert Plant who talks incessantly about Viking Sagas, ( John Paul-Jones has gone off for a morning shit in the backstage portaloo).
It is still dry, but the skies are turning dark grey.Was that a rumble of thunder in the distance, or an amplifier farting angrily? I don’t know, that Honey Rose cigarette I scrounged off Mr. Plant is giving me a strange sense of space, colour and time.
All the tents look the same as I amble back, I spend two and a half hours looking for mine, it’s blue and I bought it from Millet’s.

Found my tent and collapsed like a clean-living middle-aged hippie who cannot cope with intoxicants of any kind. I am woken up by what sounds like a load of balloons being inflated simultaneously.Ah, a herd of young people and their nitrous oxide I think! I don’t approve, but it’s a festival, and the UK do both festivals and excessive alcohol and drug consumption particularly well.

Managed to get a lift in the back of the van of some crew member to get to a supermarket. All the locals look at us with dishevelled hair and screw up their faces as they sense the smells of skunk and woodfires which suddenly seem to emanate from our clothing once indoors.
The security guard follows us around. I buy festival essentials:cuppa soups, rizzlas, rolling tobacco, tea bags, powdered milk,chocolate biscuits,beer,candles, spare lighter,loo roll and a magazine that I will never read.

Getting back into the festival takes a while due to queues of traffic and getting lost on country roads.My driver is a guy I never met before called Botty. I have  known three “Botties” before,and they were all pretty much the same. He wears a hat , a torn t-shirt and an evil grin.  He likes loud classic rock and  heavy metal music , and so while we are stuck in lines of traffic surrounded by fields, he enriches my musical education with his stereo blasting AC/DC, ZZ Top, Rush  and many other rock bands. He tells me I should investigate the Free-floating Anarchy Noise Tent this evening. So later I go and investigate and to my surprise find my old friends Treatment performing on stage.
Treatment -The Hidden Attack (at a Club Dog event at Shoreditch Town Hall?)

After dancing  like a maniac, I join Clive, Adam and co.  and they encourage me to stay to watch Acid Mother’s Temple from Japan.

I love loud musical anarchy.

Later on,it’s getting dark , and I walk around aimlessly, munching on a reasonably-priced and delicious nut-burger ( remember the prices are imaginary),who is this on the Acoustic Politico-Philosophy Stage? Yes it’s Benjamin Zephaniah, oh joy!

At the end of Zephaniah‘s act, an MC appears in a silly jester’s hat with bells on,  a big pink tutu , his hair in plaits dyed purple to match his beard.
He tell us that he runs “Men and Gender in the 21st century workshops”in the Healing Field and also reminds us that Bob Marley is about to appear on the main stage, creating a minor stampede of Benjamin Zephaniah fans to rush out into the rain. Yes it’s raining, out come the plastic macs distributed with free copies of the Guardian.

But as we plod through mud and showers, to get to the main stage , the sun appears,  re-awakening the evening sky. Bob Marley  is resurrected from the dead, like  a Messiah living  briefly once more to sing us songs of love, hope and tribulation all encased in Rasta spirituality.
Concrete Jungle

After Bob Marley, having  danced and sampled spliffs handed to me from smiling multi-coloured strangers in the crowd, who instantly became my friends, Steve Hillage appears on the stage as he was in 1977! (Steve Hillage  is as great now as he ever was but can’t find recent footage with  good sound quality )

I have been dancing my socks off,drinking some beer, met many strangers, had many laughs, got reasonably covered in mud. I have few possessions but  great happiness renewed in my  heart and spirit.
Late at night, now the booze has worn off, there’s a special guest  on the  Literary and Pensive Songs Stage . It’s my favourite songstress: Joni Mitchell.
This is a sung poem really, about a woman who will not commit or give up her freedom, and her abandoned lovers(or fans?). A few tears run down my cheeks as she sings, but they make feel more alive emotionally and I cannot regret them:
Cactus Tree

I need to go to bed now before I get too stoned ( in my imagination) to enjoy the rest of the weekend. I can’t wait until tomorrow. I have no idea who will be playing as I couldn’t afford a programme as usual.

Well I hope you have enjoyed my Saturday at Glastonbury, I have. I just need a time machine, a ton of money and to own a big plot of land near a spiritual place.

Love and Peace
Born2rant