Well, here’s a sneak preview: Track 4, Another Dumb Pop Song (go to the My Songs link above to hear it).

The leader of the Russian Revolution
Stole a Beatles’ name
And then he had the nerve to spell it wrong

A famous painter cut his ear off
In a fit of rage
And yet he wound up in a dumb pop song

The verses too short the chorus too long
Another dumb pop song
The verses too weak the chorus too strong
Another dumb pop song

A thousand years from now
Historians will go to early graves
Endeavoring to find out why we listened to ‘em

Imagine their revulsion
When they hear the ringtone craze
Convinced by now our culture’s nothing but a ruin

The verses too short (etc)…

There’s a pop star from yesteryear
Whose fame’s not short of fabled
Let’s not say his songs are lame
Just – differently abled

Another dumb pop song (etc)

© Paul Inglis 2008

And just to see if anybody reads this far in my posts, here’s my cover version of a Kate Bush song, a non-album track recorded at the same sessions: Hammer Horror

(click on the photo to enlarge it)

Only 280 types of beer? What were they thinking? I reckon that if they got rid of some of those giant Duvel bottles there’d be space for several more types of beer. I’ll be happy to take those giant bottles off their hands. It’s a sacrifice, but one that I’m willing to make.

Here’s little more detail about what you can see through the window (note the giant glasses):

Today I see a similarly inappropriate juxtaposition between not two but three stories:

So two people are in trouble for using cameras to infringe on someone else’s personal freedom, and quite rightly so. However, it is apparently OK for the government to take pictures that see right through your clothes. I guess it is just all part of the spirit of this gee-whillickers Flash Gordon age that we find ourselves living in.

I’ll be posting more of these juxtapositions.

http://www.smh.com.au

I can imagine it already:

God save Britney

And her vacuous regime

She can’t keep her panties on

So I wrote her a song

Last time I checked, schools still tend to like you to show up at the airport to collect your children when they arrive back from parts yonder, so we opted for the “Good Parent Plan” instead of the “Magical Mystery Tour”.

I’ll just sob quietly for a while.

This is the view from outside the bedroom window:

I just took that photo. It’s about 10PM, so as you can see it gets dark quite late. Click on the photo to enlarge it (that will be the case with all photos that I post).

My hopes of getting an upgrade to Business Class from Sydney to London were knocked on the head when it turned out that the entire flight (QF31) was full. Even some full-paying Business Class passengers were bumped back to Economy, so one of the Qantas staff informed me (although Premium Economy sounds more likely). Excess baggage charges apply. Quite excessive charges, I can assure. $60 a kilo.

May 11

My flight arrived at London Heathrow at around 6.30AM. Anticipating chilly weather I pop on a jumper. The aircraft has pulled up short of the terminal and we have to disembark onto a bus. Much to my surprise the weather is actually quite balmy (especially for 6.30 in the morning). The bus transports us to Terminal 4 from where most of us need to catch another bus to get to Terminal 5. Naturally this involves a bloody big long queue. Eventually I manage to get onto a bus, which features an automated announcement from a woman who sounds suspiciously like the voice of Holly from Red Dwarf. According to this announcement it takes 18 minutes to get to Terminal 5. Then we are treated to a video telling us how to get through the security checks more quickly and efficiently. It’s nice that this responsibility should be placed on us, the paying passengers, rather than anyone who actually gets paid to run the security. Fortunately the bus only takes about 8 minutes to get to Terminal 5. Less fortunately inside there is a huge queue for transit passengers. This, as it turns out is not the queue for the security check, but rather the queue to get your boarding pass reissued (apparently now a new requirement at Heathrow). This queue turns out to be even longer than the subsequent queue at the security check. I resist the urge to mockingly comment in an old man’s Cockney accent,

“We suffered in the Blitz … now it’s your turn”.

Fortunately I still have plenty of time to get to the boarding gate. The flight to Amsterdam is very crowded.

It turns out that Amsterdam is just as unseasonably warm as London. My darling wife shows up with Peter, who is some sort of general factotum for her company, in tow to do the driving.

Our flat is large by Dutch standards. 2 and half bathrooms is virtually a luxury for a three bedroom flat. Quite a large main bedroom, with an ensuite and walk in robe. Decent living area leading out to a backyard with a shed. I’ll have to take some pictures one of these days. Had late lunch at Chicanos, which is a sort-of Tex-Mex place.

May 12

As all the supermarkets were closed yesterday (for Pentecost) we ventured out today for groceries. Today is Monday but it’s the Pentecost public holiday. Apparently everybody else in Amsterdam is at the same supermarket, as the aisles are choked with people queuing for the checkouts.

I’m down to one guitar, an electric as that’s the only thing I’d trust to go on a plane (you’d have to do a Pete Townshend on this one to damage it). However, my trusty 12 string acoustic is being moved by professionals.

This does mean a slight delay in finishing the album. I can still work on the mixes, and I do have a microphone and appropriate software and hardware, but that’s about it.

I’ll go and hang elsewhere tonight as the house is a tad empty.

Had a painter in to look at getting the house repainted and he quoted the usual NASA-derived estimate that tradesman are wont to supply. Actually, it wasn’t too bad, and as a bonus not only will the house get painted but I will also have a moonbase named after me.