New Orleans, music, food

Buckwheat Zydeco

New Orleans. The yanks have guns, sure, but they also have New Orleans, Cajun Zydeco music and bands like these.

We have Simon Cowell and a prime minister who gallops about the place killing small animals with horses and packs of dogs, dressed like some sort of retarded clown while looking down at you and me.

I nicked that last bit from John Cale. Paris 1919 (if you don't have a copy, get one, HMV's due a closing down sale soon if the gloom-mongers are to be believed): 'So shocking to see, the old C of E, looking down, on you and me' (from Graham Greene). Don't get the deluxe augmented version. It's inferior to the original. If that's all they have listen to the first ten tracks and stop there. It's a true masterpiece, and a joined up album. Try to pick a single favourite track to My Jam. See? Impossible. Works as a whole.

This is great music. Electric and amplified, but full of the violins, accordions and whatever else authenticity takes.

Any culture based on food and music deserves better than to be abandoned by Washington and the insurance companies after a hurricane. Or maybe that's exactly what it deserves: freedom from interference. If you don't / won't help, then shove your tax bill and, that nose you keep poking in? Next time it'll cease attachment to your face.

'Sport' they call foxhunting in Cameron's circles. No wonder he was so excited about the Olympics. There's all that dressage and horseback volleyball for him to cream his jodhpurs over. I mean, really, huge packs of dogs and loads of toffs on horses chasing one fox, because, if they didn't, the poor farmers would drop below the subsistence line. You English, you kill me. All that forelock tugging. It must have an adverse effect on the brain or something.

In how many oblique ways did the RSPCA spokesman have to say “the filth and the CPS? Don't make me laugh. Two blind eyes there, buddy-boy” to the aggressive interviewer? Whatever it cost, bringing the case was worth the money.

Just a pity the punishment isn't being run down by a pack of hoodies on scooters before being torn limb from limb.

Talking about music, food and cultures, the kitchen boombox is now playing Dr John and the Donald Harrison Band. It's due a bit of TLC, I think. For an electronic item, it's food value must be quite high. Locked in a room with it, you'd not starve for a long while.

I bet Cameron's kitchen CD player's pristine. Playing his copy of “Tally Ho! The Greatest Hits of the Hunting Bugle” including “Out they way, pleb”; “I've gort a ho-arse, don't'cha know”; Hound Dog, and Foxy Lady.

Tabasco Sauce. There's genius from the deep south. Can't imagine the Cameron's get through too much of that.

Heard Miliband on the radio. He could do a job if there's ever a radio remake of The Elephant Man couldn't he? John Merrick voiceovers? Found your man. Is this some sort of special needs thing? Filling the talking shop with people with speech defects? Some sick joke? “I'm going to tell you, nay, lecture you at great, lose-the-will-to-live length on how thy shalt live your life”...

...not until you learn to speak properly you're not...