Statue of limitations

 If I just stand there

and do nothing,

What am I?

The Statue of limitations

American dreaming

 Let's hear it one more time for

The American dream

Fear and loathing

It's a brand of clothing

You can buy in a Walmart

But if you're smart

The Chinese have made it

And you've paid for it

With the American dream

Oh everybody's equal

Or so it would seem

But only in America

Because that's what it means

But really what they're saying is

We're better than you kids

Comprendez?

It's a foul game,

It's a penalty

Except the referee's

The one holding the keys to Life and Liberty

And how about the pursuit of happiness?

Well that only exists in excess

So buy, buy, buy your way to heaven

Unless you live the American dream

Who knew things could go so wrong?

It's just a show kid, no need to be your swan song

It's like we're playing Risk or a game of double jeopardy

On the Tv, with your host the President and his First Lady

It's not as if this is reality, could have fooled me

How about a parody? How about a comedy? How about a tragedy?

Is it any wonder that the world's a disparity?

The glass is half empty, or is it half full?

Well I know some have plenty and others hungerful

Can you see enough vulgarity, is it wonderful

Is this what you Americans want on your dinner plates?

Just a plastic president who spouts out rage and hate?

 Just a smarmy army, full of red neck types

Just a whisky swigger and stereotypes

Tell me if it's wonderful or really if it's ripe

That you're eating chicken by the binful

And scoffing down the tripe

I need to take a moment, I can't believe my eyes

No, justice is blind, or I thought that was right

Now I can't believe my ears are those my cries?

Or someone else in pain and should I try to be nice?

Now I've lost the power of speech, I'm mute

But the voice of reason it doesn't sound cute

And it wouldn't get a season on the Disney plus network

So Let's all just play dumb until the President forgets it

And nothing he says means anything at all

Because there is no truth just a game of lies 

in his American dream

Impeachments

 Moving to a country, gonna have a lot of impeachments

 Moving to a country, gonna have a lot of impeachments

Impeachments come from a can, they were put there by a man

In a courthouse uptown

If I had my way those impeachments would be here to stay

Like a ladder of law that never fade

 Moving to America, gonna have a lot of impeachments

 Moving to America, gonna have a lot of impeachments

I looked at a little map, where the routes all twist

Squished a rotten president in my fist

And dreamed about America's freedom

I poked my nose inside the white house doors

And made room for one immigrant or more

Nature's justice in my hand, impeachments come from a can

As American as apple pie

Millions of impeachments, impeachments for me

Millions of impeachments, impeachments for free, look out

Millions of impeachments, impeachments for me

Millions of impeachments, impeachments for free, look out

Freedom's train

 I travelled on a train heading west

Through the country that I loved the best

Every city we seemed to pass

the lights went out like the last

It was all same on the train

Oh liberty was its name

So come on and get on board

This train carries rich and poor

You don't even need to know its name

Just wait on on the platform for Freedom's train

I'm looking out of the window

And the country is falling into shadow

The carriage light is all that remains

Shining across the land like a flame

And in each city the same story's told

Of the fight for land, glory and gold

And the frontiers have always changed

But you can travel to the coast

And see the sea and drink your toast

To a land whose face you've rearranged

Everybody is trying to win

What they felt they'd lost to begin

But nobody can hear the spirit sing

And if this train can ring a bell

And people can walk free from hell

Then let's hear the whistle blow once again

For it's time to get on board the liberty train

Yes, this train is leaving soon

It's got to travel by the moon

Because the restless riders don't want it to stop

In case the bandits try and hold it up

If you see freedom in the light of day

You may wish this train would stay

But this train keeps rolling right on through 

Freedom is it's name, Freedom for me and you

The disappearing democracy blues

All the houses of the high and mighty

Have fallen down like dominos

The diamonds glitter in the clubs

While with golden spades their fields are dug

And the hearts and minds have faded like a dream

Oh Wish I knew America, 

and that when it looked into a mirror

It wasn't only vanity and greed that could be seen

But I'm afraid that humanity and Christianity

Have been replaced by fear and an idiocy

That threatens the fabric of democracy

And leave a lunatic king to order executioner's insanity  

While civil war beckons within the American dream

So I sit at the card table, 

the one where Eve loved Cain and Abel

But After Cain had cut the deck, 

he used a knife and slit Abel's neck

And reshuffled all the hearts and clubs, 

he slipped in a Joker to distract the judge

Then behind the smoke and mirrors smudged

 the constitution written on the walls

And then he whitewashed the white house halls, 

painted them in blood

Like in hellish balls, 

while Noah and his animals waited for the flood

So I wish to see America, 

one more time before she disappears

And liberty's statue falls into the sea, 

behind three monkeys closing their mouths, their eyes and ears

Yes I wish to see America, where is she? 

I can't see her through my tears

All that I loved about her in the Eighties 

when I was growing up she was changing through the years

But it's not that I have changed and she has remained the same,

It's just I have the disappearing democracy fears

So Good Night to you America

I hope tomorrow the world will not seem so dark

Because today you snuffed out the torch of liberty

And with it you have killed a big piece of my heart

So Good Night to you America, 

Don't take down the flag that once you flew

Over a world where we looked to you like a symbol

For tonight you've got the disappearing democracy blues

The American dream

 We were watching a film or a play

I was talking with men and women

Throughout the day

There were childhood friends and flames

Set in my best friend's house back home

And the play was a watcher

The watcher watched the play

I looked over my shoulder to see a disabled man there

I said alright

He said yeah

I said do you want my seat he said I thought you'd never ask

He had no arms and no legs

I walked over to the side stalls away from the main crowd

And sat down in the balcony with my back to the show

It hadn't started yet and I didn't know

What it was about

and didn't care

Someone a teacher friend gave me some snacks and I began to eat them

In the next room where previously there had been a party they were staring

naked poker

Since I had been miraculously losing my clothes already from the waist down

I thought I'd have a go, what;s the harm?

There I saw the native American indians and Mexican Indians with giant willies

clinging tight to their wives

And I saw Boris Johnson who said alright

He still wore his clothes though

Then behind him I saw my father who surprised me

But said he thought he'd give it a try

Dumbmoney

 In the cinema of certain dreams

Where the 'dumbmoney' themes

Retro-actively alert and stimulate

An already heightened audience

There are the pronstar couple -one black the other white

who begin kissing every

time the protagonist mentions running

naked through lightning with his dick out

The word dick is a activating one for her

for some reason

I shift uncomfortably in my seat as they are

directly in front

Then the young men who love a toke

Began to move when the young brother spoke

And smoked upon his big bong

Then the older couple who sat at the front thought

What have we done wrong

When the music with explicit lyrics came on

About sticking her pussy out and her bum

Or big ass pussy as in the American is common

And that's about the size of it for me

What people do for a thrill on  Saturday

In a public space

It seems the cinema theatre has become a stage for all the people

For whom they see on film the You tuber

Sway and cajole and persuade

With his engaging enthrall

And being brave

Well hey, we have been inverted in our culture too

You can see the couple who have watched too much porn

The internet grave

Or those who follow the dumb ass videos of 'retard' can I say?

They do in America, they do on the internet where nobody

stops them, where they ride the wave of popular opinion and reaction

And harbour dreams of being millionaires in shares

And stock options

Sticking it to the man

Like on the planet of the Apes

But can I say, I am still abhorred

By the extent to which people can gamble away

And put a squeeze on the hedge funds

Who short the stocks on the ordinary man

Working in the ordinary company

Which it bankrupts in the end

No wonder, I can understand

But the whole culture is one of greed

I deny these Robin Hoods are any more moral

Yet he says the system is broken

He is trying to equalize the struggle

The stock market should be open

For anyone smart enough to play it

Not only the rich few

Sure perhaps it is the land of the free

And the home of the brave

And he really did study the fundamentals

Of the company gamestop before investing

But the others did not, they just followed suit

And he lead them to change

Well the same thing happens to humans all over

And sometimes it works out

Sometimes not, it's all just a gamble

I respect the risk they took

American Frontier

 West of the Mississippi

"historians sometimes define the American West as lands west of the 98th meridian or 98° west longitude," and that other definitions of the region "include all lands west of the Mississippi or Missouri rivers

On Mars the say the

boosterism

sobriquet

noun [ C ]   formal (also soubriquet)

UK  /ˈsəʊ.brɪ.keɪ/ US  /ˈsoʊ.brə.keɪ/

 

a name given to someone or something that is not their or its real or official name:

These charms have earned the television show's host the sobriquet "the thinking woman's heartthrob".

Synonyms

moniker humorousnickname

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Postal_Service

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/General_Land_Office

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Quincy_Adams

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Westward_Expansion_Trails

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Jesup

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jefferson_Davis

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Jacob_Astor

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_C._Fr%C3%A9mont

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_River_(Colorado_River_tributary)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Pass_(Wyoming)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mountain_man

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedediah_Smith

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Texas_Jack_Omohundro

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hugh_Glass

palimpsest

noun [ C ]

UK 

 /ˈpæl.ɪm.sest/ US 

 /ˈpæl.ɪmp.sest/

 

a very old text or document in which writing has been removed and covered or replaced by new writing

 

formal

something such as a work of art that has many levels of meaning, types of style, etc. that build on each other:

His performance is a palimpsest in which you see all the layers of a single life.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Fe_Trail

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Spanish_Trail_(trade_route)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fredonian_Rebellion

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_San_Jacinto

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zachary_Taylor

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gadsden_Purchase

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilmot_Proviso

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_River_(Colorado_River_tributary)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Postal_Service

farrago

 farrago

noun [ C ]

 US formal disapproving

UK 

 /fəˈrɑː.ɡəʊ/ US 

 /fəˈrɑː.ɡoʊ/

plural farragos or US farragoes

 

a confused mixture:

He told us a farrago of lies.

Synonyms

hodgepodge US

hotchpotch mainly UK

mishmash informal

ragbag

Medley o

 For sometimes the dust mouse

With the balloon legs flies

And jars against the corners of coroners

Who are borrowing rainbows from wet skies

And velvet like a jet plane

That too smoothly

Leads the pop charts

In Rocket man serenades

Of American football players

As I empty my conscious mind on the page

And jollop of the trollop

Who with Anthony now pays

For his term in Hell

As berms like barrows swell

With ever more victims

Of Anglo Saxon descent

On cut corner garages

Where the fuel pipe is spent

By Alpha males who drive oil trucks

And dig the graves of otters

Who sereptiously at nightcall up their mothers

That twinly like the windmills

On Salisbury hill

Turn in ever soft records 

Where the blue birds trill

And fellow knights of Henry

Have arrived by Welsh appeal

To garner the orange men of Wednesday 

With their Zesty peel

And toothless crows will talk in hedgerows

Of Black Friday wills

Where Jesus was a charioteer

And Neil Diamond steals

The lime light of lemon trees

In elementary muse

So cut throat in pleasantries

That he must be killed

Emperor's New Clothes

 This is taken from Radiolisting.org about Radio 3's words and music programme tonight. I'm sharing some of the links to extracts and music that can be freely found on the web.

SUN 17:30 Words and Music (m001j4rv)
The Emperor's New Clothes

Jane Austen’s Catherine in Northanger Abbey wonders what she should wear to the ball, while Dickens’s Miss Havisham still wears her wedding clothes years after she was ditched. Aldous Huxley considers the folds in his trousers, and Diogenes folds his cloak in two for summer. Jenny Joseph threatens to wear purple when she is old, and the Emperor parades without any clothes at all. And in London Fashion Week we celebrate the wild and wonderful life and work of the late Vivienne Westwood. There’s music from Prokofiev’s Cinderella, Richard Strauss’s Salome, Anoushka Shankar, PJ Harvey and JS Bach. Our readers are Julia Winwood and Jonathan Keeble.

Producer in Salford: Nick Holmes

You might be interested in a discussion on Free Thinking about a poetry exhibition inspired by fashion at the National Poetry Library at London's Southbank Centre. Shahidha Bari discusses the display of writing by Gwendolyn Brooks, Stevie Smith, Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath and Audre Lorde with the exhibition organisers Sarah Parker and Gesa Werner.

02 00:01:25
Jane Austen
Northanger Abbey. Read by Julia Winwood
Duration 00:00:01

04 00:05:35
Charles Dickens
Great Expectations. Read by Jonathan Keeble
Duration 00:00:01

She was dressed in rich materials,—satins, and lace, and silks,—all of white. Her shoes were white. And she had a long white veil dependent from her hair, and she had bridal flowers in her hair, but her hair was white. Some bright jewels sparkled on her neck and on her hands, and some other jewels lay sparkling on the table. Dresses, less splendid than the dress she wore, and half-packed trunks, were scattered about. She had not quite finished dressing, for she had but one shoe on,—the other was on the table near her hand,—her veil was but half arranged, her watch and chain were not put on, and some lace for her bosom lay with those trinkets, and with her handkerchief, and gloves, and some flowers, and a Prayer-Book all confusedly heaped about the looking-glass.

It was not in the first few moments that I saw all these things, though I saw more of them in the first moments than might be supposed. But I saw that everything within my view which ought to be white, had been white long ago, and had lost its lustre and was faded and yellow. I saw that the bride within the bridal dress had withered like the dress, and like the flowers, and had no brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes. I saw that the dress had been put upon the rounded figure of a young woman, and that the figure upon which it now hung loose had shrunk to skin and bone.

"Who is it?" said the lady at the table.

"Pip, ma'am."

"Come nearer; let me look at you. Come close."

It was when I stood before her, avoiding her eyes, that I took note of the surrounding objects in detail, and saw that her watch had stopped at twenty minutes to nine, and that a clock in the room had stopped at twenty minutes to nine.

"Look at me," said Miss Havisham. "You are not afraid of a woman who has never seen the sun since you were born?"

05 00:06:33 A Hawk and a Hacksaw
Bury Me in the Clothes I was Married In
Performer: A Hawk and a Hacksaw
Duration 00:00:02

06 00:09:04 JS Bach
Sonata No. 2 for violin solo in A minor, BWV 1003 - Andante
Performer: Sigiswald Kuijken
Duration 00:00:05

07 00:10:06
Anne Carson
Father's Old Blue Cardigan. Read by Julia Winwood
Duration 00:00:01

08 00:14:32
Gertrude Stein
Tender Buttons (A Long Dress). Read by Julia Winwood
Duration 00:00:01

09 00:15:07 Jay Livingston
Buttons and Bows
Performer: Dinah Shore
Duration 00:00:02
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8vTvCZzBRQ

 

10 00:17:09 Arthur Bliss
The Lady of Shalott
Orchestra: BBC Concert Orchestra
Conductor: Martin Yates
Duration 00:00:04

11 00:17:23
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Lady of Shalott. Read by Jonathan Keeble
Duration 00:00:01
ALFRED TENNYSON, LORD TENNYSON

The Lady of Shalott

PART I

 

ON either side the river lie

Long fields of barley and of rye,

That clothe the wold and meet the sky;

And thro' the field the road runs by

                    To many-tower'd Camelot;

And up and down the people go,

Gazing where the lilies blow

Round an island there below,

                    The island of Shalott.

 

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,

Little breezes dusk and shiver

Thro' the wave that runs for ever

By the island in the river

                    Flowing down to Camelot.

Four gray walls, and four gray towers,

Overlook a space of flowers,

And the silent isle imbowers

                    The Lady of Shalott.

 

By the margin, willow-veil'd,

Slide the heavy barges trail'd

By slow horses; and unhail'd

The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd

                    Skimming down to Camelot:

But who hath seen her wave her hand?

Or at the casement seen her stand?

Or is she known in all the land,

                    The Lady of Shalott?

 

Only reapers, reaping early

In among the bearded barley,

Hear a song that echoes cheerly

From the river winding clearly,

                    Down to tower'd Camelot:

And by the moon the reaper weary,

Piling sheaves in uplands airy,

Listening, whispers 'Tis the fairy

                    Lady of Shalott.'

12 00:21:34 Anoushka Shankar
Naked
Performer: Anoushka Shankar
Duration 00:00:04

13 00:21:55
Martin Jenkins
Diogenes the Cynic. Read by Jonathan Keeble
Duration 00:00:04

Socrates, who died when Diogenes was an infant, had also tried to live a simple life. He usually went barefoot (although he would wear sandals when the occasion demanded it) and he wore shabby old clothes; but he had a house and a family. Walking through the market, Socrates famously said, “How many things I don’t need!” Diogenes took Socratic simplicity to its logical conclusion, so much so that Plato, Diogenes’ contemporary, allegedly called him ‘Socrates gone mad’. The story goes that Diogenes saw a mouse eating the crumbs from the coarse bread on which he had been dining, and was inspired to reduce his own life to the bare minimum. So he reduced his clothing to a single cloak that he could fold in two, making him cool in summer and warm in winter. He consistently went barefoot. He carried a knapsack for such possessions as he needed – basically his food. He lived by begging, but was willing to be invited to dinner – though he once refused to dine a second time with a host whom he felt had not been properly grateful for his presence the first time round. He had no house, but notoriously slept in a large ceramic jar (which has often been called a ‘barrel’). Another story about his austerity is that he had a wooden cup but threw it away when he saw a lad drinking out of a cupped hand, and realised that he already had what he needed for drinking.

14 00:23:35
Kahlil Gibran
On Clothes. Read by Jonathan Keeble
Duration 00:00:01
On Clothes

Kahlil Gibran - 1883-1931

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the weaver said, Speak to us of Clothes.

     And he answered:

     Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful.

     And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain.

     Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your skin and less of your raiment,

     For the breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind.

 

     Some of you say, “It is the north wind who has woven the clothes we wear.”

     And I say, Ay, it was the north wind,

     But shame was his loom, and the softening of the sinews was his thread.

     And when his work was done he laughed in the forest.

     Forget not that modesty is for a shield against the eye of the unclean.

     And when the unclean shall be no more, what were modesty but a fetter and a fouling of the mind?

     And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.
15 00:25:40 David Bowie
Fashion
Performer: The Sunburst Band
Duration 00:00:03
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPHF4933h4w

16 00:25:47
Hadley Freeman
Vivienne Westwood, Read by Julia Winwood
Duration 00:00:01
Vivienne Westwood has become what she never wanted to be: a national treasure, the status conferred by a V&A retrospective, which celebrates the work of the punk icon with a strong sense of tradition.

 

I’ve never really felt that Vivienne Westwood was for me. But then, the feeling was probably mutual. Certainly the one, brief and pretty unmemorable time that we met, the designer with a notorious penchant for eschewing airkissing for brutal honesty gave that impression. It was at one of those annoying “mwah-mwah, dahling, dahling” kind of fashion parties a few years ago. In all honesty, we both looked equally bored, but that was where the similarities ended. A well-meaning but patently misguided PR (is there any other kind?) attempted to introduce us and make us the best of friends: Westwood, in an enormous draped crinoline evening gown, replete with gallumphing bustle, took a skating glance at my typical couldn’t-care-less attire of jeans, Converse and blouse, and turned away. Westwood was not for me, and I was not for her.

 

Think about Vivienne Westwood’s clothes and the word “high” comes to mind: high octane, high cleavages and very, very high heels. For those of us with a more timid approach to dressing, such in-your-face style can seem, at best, as intimidating as the lady herself. Yet the woman who once proclaimed that she “never wants to be a national treasure” has been given the final confirmation that she is just that, with a retrospective of her work at the Victoria and Albert museum.
17 00:27:51
Veronica Horwell
Vivienne Westwood.Read by Julia Winwood
Duration 00:00:01
No fashion designer ever had a Paris show like the one staged by Vivienne Westwood in 1991. Although she was by then 50 and had been making clothes for sale for 20 years – and the British Fashion Council had named her designer of the year – she stitched much of that collection on her own sewing machine in her shabby south London flat, hand-finishing it in the van that transported her, and the models, to France, where the couturier Azzedine Alaïa had invited her to guest-show. Despite those limitations, the collection was a major success.

 

The life of Westwood, who has died aged 81, was like that, both rackety and responsible.

18 00:28:53
Billy Collins
Taking off Emily Dickinson's Clothes. Read by Jonathan Keeble
Duration 00:00:01
Taking Off Emily Dickinson's Clothes

 

First, her tippet made of tulle,

easily lifted off her shoulders and laid

on the back of a wooden chair.

 

And her bonnet,

the bow undone with a light forward pull.

 

Then the long white dress, a more

complicated matter with mother-of-pearl

buttons down the back,

so tiny and numerous that it takes forever

before my hands can part the fabric,

like a swimmer's dividing water,

and slip inside.

 

You will want to know

that she was standing

by an open window in an upstairs bedroom,

motionless, a little wide-eyed,

looking out at the orchard below,

the white dress puddled at her feet

on the wide-board, hardwood floor.

 

The complexity of women's undergarments

in nineteenth-century America

is not to be waved off,

and I proceeded like a polar explorer

through clips, clasps, and moorings,

catches, straps, and whalebone stays,

sailing toward the iceberg of her nakedness.

 

Later, I wrote in a notebook

it was like riding a swan into the night,

but, of course, I cannot tell you everything -

the way she closed her eyes to the orchard,

how her hair tumbled free of its pins,

how there were sudden dashes

whenever we spoke.

 

What I can tell you is

it was terribly quiet in Amherst

that Sabbath afternoon,

nothing but a carriage passing the house,

a fly buzzing in a windowpane.

 

So I could plainly hear her inhale

when I undid the very top

hook-and-eye fastener of her corset

 

and I could hear her sigh when finally it was unloosed,

the way some readers sigh when they realize

that Hope has feathers,

that reason is a plank,

that life is a loaded gun

that looks right at you with a yellow eye.
19 00:30:12 Richard Strauss
Salome: Dance of the Seven Veils
Orchestra: City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra
Conductor: Andris Nelsons
Duration 00:00:09

20 00:39:38
Katherine Mansfield
A New Hymn.

Sing a song of men's pyjamas,

Half-past-six has got a pair,

And he's wearing them this evening,

And he's looking such a dear.

 

Sing a song of frocks with pockets

I have got one, it is so's

I can use my `nitial hankies

Every time I blow my nose.

21 00:39:59 Erik Satie
Les Valses distinguees du precieux degoute no.2; Son binocle
Performer: Alan Marks
Duration 00:00:01

22 00:41:25 Lee Hazlewood
These Boots Were Made for Walkin'
Performer: Emilie‐Claire Barlow
Duration 00:00:03
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHjVyU_h690

23 00:41:25
Benjamin Zephaniah
Vegan Steven's Vegan Clothes. Read by Jonathan Keeble
Duration 00:00:03
Remember that vegan called Steven

Yes he would not kill for no reason,

Well I saw him today

Wearing nothing I say

But some cabbage leaves

With a few peas on.

 

Benjamin Zephaniah
24 00:45:17 Bryn Terfel (bass baritone), Annette Bryn Parri (piano) (artist)
La Bohè me; Act 4; Vecchia Zimarra, Senti
Performer: Bryn Terfel (bass baritone), Annette Bryn Parri (piano)
Duration 00:00:02

25 00:47:14
Hans Christian Andersen
The Emperor's New Clothes . Read by Jonathan Keeble
Duration 00:00:01
The Emperor walked under his high canopy in the midst of the procession, through the streets of his capital. All the people standing by, and those at the windows, cried out, “Oh! How beautiful are our Emperor’s new clothes! What a magnificent train there is to the mantle; and how gracefully the scarf hangs!” No one would admit these much admired clothes could not be seen because, in doing so, he would have been saying he was either a simpleton or unfit for his job.

 

“But the Emperor has nothing at all on!” said a little child. “Listen to the voice of the child!” exclaimed his father. What the child had said was whispered from one to another. “But he has nothing at all on!” at last cried out all the people. The Emperor was upset, for he knew that the people were right. However, he thought the procession must go on now! The lords of the bedchamber took greater pains than ever, to appear holding up a train, although, in reality, there was no train to hold, and the Emperor walked on in his underwear.

Clothes of Sand

Nick Drake

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oE6PfDsYVjA

 

Who has dressed you in strange clothes of sand?

Who has taken you far from my land?

Who has said that my sayings were wrong?

And who will say that I stayed much too long?

Clothes of sand have covered your face

Given you meaning, taken my place

Some make your way on down to sea

Something has taken you so far from me

Does it now seem worth all the color of skies?

To see the earth through painted eyes

To look through panes of shaded glass

See the stains of winter's grass

Can you now return to from where you came?

Try to burn your changing name

Or with silver spoons and colored light

Will you worship moons in winter's night?

Clothes of sand have covered your face

Given you meaning taken my place

So make your way on down to the sea

Something has taken you so far from me

27 00:51:00 Ottorino Respighi
Three Botticelli Pictures: The Adoration of the Magi
Orchestra: City of London Sinfonia
Conductor: Richard Hickox
Duration 00:00:09

28 00:52:33
Aldous Huxley
The Doors of Perception. Read by Jonathan Keeble
Duration 00:00:01

29 01:00:11
L. M. Montgomery
Anne of Green Gables. Read by Julia Winwood
Duration 00:00:01
After two hours of smoking and hard reflection Matthew arrived at a solution of his problem. Anne was not dressed like the other girls!

 

The more Matthew thought about the matter the more he was convinced that Anne never had been dressed like the other girls--never since she had come to Green Gables. Marilla kept her clothed in plain, dark dresses, all made after the same unvarying pattern. If Matthew knew there was such a thing as fashion in dress it was as much as he did; but he was quite sure that Anne's sleeves did not look at all like the sleeves the other girls wore. He recalled the cluster of little girls he had seen around her that evening--all gay in waists of red and blue and pink and white--and he wondered why Marilla always kept her so plainly and soberly gowned.

Of course, it must be all right. Marilla knew best and Marilla was bringing her up. Probably some wise, inscrutable motive was to be served thereby. But surely it would do no harm to let the child have one pretty dress--something like Diana Barry always wore. Matthew decided that he would give her one; that surely could not be objected to as an unwarranted putting in of his oar. Christmas was only a fortnight off. A nice new dress would be the very thing for a present. Matthew, with a sigh of satisfaction, put away his pipe and went to bed, while Marilla opened all the doors and aired the house.
30 01:01:49 Cole Porter
Silk Stockings
Singer: Don Ameche
Duration 00:00:02

31 01:03:55
Robert Herrick
Upon Julia's Clothes. Read by Jonathan Keeble
Duration 00:00:02

32 01:04:17 PJ Harvey
Dress (demo)
Performer: PJ Harvey
Duration 00:00:01
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yVbgYf5CUKs

Put on that dress

I'm going out dancing

Starting off red

Clean and sparkling, he'll see me

 

[Verse 2]

Music play, make it dreamy for dancing

Must be a way that I can dress to please him

It's hard to walk in the dress, it's not easy

I'm swinging over like a heavy-loaded fruit tree

 

 

 

[Chorus]

If you put it on, if you put it on

If you put it on, if you put it on

 

[Verse 3]

It's sad to see

Lonely, all this lonely

Close up my eyes

Dreamy, dreamy music, make it be alright

 

[Verse 4]

Music play, make it good for romancing

Must be a way I can dress to please him

Swing and sway, everything'll be alright

But it's feeling so damn tight tonight

 

[Chorus]

If you put it on, if you put it on

If you put it on, if you put it on

 

[Bridge]

"You purdy thang," my man says

"But I bought you beautiful dresses"

"You purdy thang," my man says

"But I bought you beautiful dresses"

 

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[Verse 5]

Filthy tight, the dress is filthy

I'm falling flat, and my arms are empty

Clear the way, better get it out of this room

A falling woman in dancing costume

 

[Chorus]

If you put it on, if you put it on

If you put it on, if you put it on

If you put it on, if you put it on

If you put it on, if you put it on
33 01:06:08 William Walton
As You Like It: The Forest of Arden
Ensemble: English Serenata
Conductor: Guy Woolfenden
Duration 00:00:01
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEvicAAH-ew

34 01:06:21
William Shakespeare
As You Like It, Act I Scene III. Read by Julia Winwood
Duration 00:00:01
Rosalind

Why, whither shall we go?

Celia

To seek your father in the forest of Arden.

Rosalind

Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

Celia

I’ll put myself in poor and mean attire
And with a kind of umber smirch my face.
The like do you. So shall we pass along
And never stir assailants.

Rosalind

Were it not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand, and — in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman’s fear there will.

Celia

What shall I call thee when thou art a man?

Rosalind

I’ll have no worse a name than Jove’s own page,
And therefore look you call me Ganymede.

36 01:11:23
Jenny Joseph
Warning. Read by Julia Winwood
Duration 00:00:01
Warning

Jenny Joseph

 

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people’s gardens

And learn to spit.

 

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

 

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

 

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
37 01:12:50 Gogol Bordello
Start Wearing Purple
Performer: Gogol Bordello
Duration 00:00:01

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkkIwO_X4i4

Chicken

 Chicken wow, chicken in the trousers

DANCE AROUND YOUR PEN

Hen pen these chickens

They will love you if you speak to them

With a chicken heart

Some call of way back when

The Hen was brought from South America

Dashing across the forest floor

Chased by the native Indian

Who in turn was being chased by

A conquistador 

But can you see her this half human bird

Half a girl she is like half an angel

Who will never fly

But she will try

Perhaps to the tree top

Then stop

Perhaps she'll

Spy the moon

She'll hear the cock crow thrice

And her beautiful chicken dreams will fade

But be born again in her eggs

Specially hatched

To one day reach the sky

Translating Rap 1

 Bust a cap in sb's ass = shoot someone in the bottom

Arapaho = used to be a native American tribe = now means a rapper's girlfriend 

Getting jiggy with it = getting sexually aroused by someone or really enjoying Irish dancing

See Will Smith for further details

Shepton Show

 A is for apple

Just a pure comedy song

Just the way we can grapple for where we go wrong

Live and be merry

Die and get long

Like the shadows in the orchards

When I was young

Cow play of the herd

Instinct, moo movement

Turd ringlet, who ever heard

Of a bull

With a ring in the end of his nose?

Shire horses suffolks

Built like tree trunks and their buttocks

Not even the endless toning in a gym

Could come up to the mark on him

His great grand daddy was an American Stallion

Brought over by the owners

Mustang, no mustang Sally

Drive your rodeo out of town

Clip, clop, tightly prigged

Pony tails of the braids

Like their riders so tight lipped with bit in mouth

And dressage horses,

slim of ankle

Not these tanks,

They have no fur for the clay earth

To clog in

Shoed

Ever East

 Ever East, they kept extolling

The virtues of the Northern trolling

Like a pack of hungry wolves

Baying at the bar room brawls

And laying out their cousins flat

With the guard room mower

And the Frenchman's cat

But I see no ships said the sailor

Who spied and spied with his eye

But none could back up the failure

To launch or the success to fall

As a moon rocket or a thunder ball

And choking on the second chance balloon

That coughed up from the song of stomach Hume's

And looms of lice

And virtues paid for in paradise

We sequestered the lion to pull Daniel Through

The eye of the needle

And the Camel's pill

That once swallowed could

Yet be sniffed at

Though really the steam roller

Kept running him flat

And coughing

Oh the corners breached

Just the coffin sound that screeched

Like a howling bird of flight

Unfurled like a flag so bright

And reached into the great unknown

That was America then

When I was young

And wished for it again to be

Home of the brave and land of the free

Word of the day

 insuperable

adjective

   formal

UK 

 /ɪnˈsjuː.pər.ə.bəl/ US 

 /ɪnˈsuː.pɚ.ə.bəl/

 

(especially of a problem) so great or severe that it cannot be defeated or dealt with successfully