I suppose I must be a socialist. I never thought I was. I always imagined a proven lack of awareness of socialist tenents would make someone utterly unqaulified for such an appellation. Yet I hear comedians such as Mark Steele or Mark Thomas speak and it is like brain nectar; refreshing and exactly in tune with my own feelings at the same time. I hear Billy Bragg and I hear a man speaking good sense.
By contrast when this David Cameron comes on the screen I change the channel immediately with a few well chosen Gallic oaths questioning his parentage, humanity and etc. This person is right wing and everything he says just makes the mind feel more leaden and the feeling that you are being told a downright pack of lies. That you know you are being sold falsehoods and you must pay. Vile little man.
Another glance in the glass and well fed by a sharp white, this is such a method to while away the afternoon in a sufferable blur. Then I am a socialist, it is indeed nice to have these things decided sometimes. Meanwhile on the record player I have Zoot Allures upon the platter, not for the usual connotations but because one of my favourite musicians happens to be Frank Zappa. I have begun side B with the excellent aural philosophising of 'Find Her Finer' and its even more excellent warning of how trying to impress a girl with your finer qualities will get you nowhere in love.
I have no finer qualities but I am nowhere in love all the same. I would surmise that you could play the willfully ignorant man mountain card but how do you maintain such a guise for the rest of your relationship? She will find your finer qualities out sooner or later and then you will be dumped I suppose. It would be a very stressful act to maintain but again not wholly without benefit.
However to speak with any authority I must turn to the phrase that my name gave form to:
"Not so lucky, Pierre."
This does begat a whole area with which I can talk with absolute conviction and qualification and therefore must be explained. However it will be next time as the bottle calls, until then, yours,