DEADMAN TURNER


30 July 2008:
tenue labrum cunei (III)

A fairly finished version of Tenue Labrum Cunei is now available at macidol.com.  Other versions may be uploaded to other sites later.
 
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13 July 2008:
tenue labrum cunei (II)

posted in music
Here is a sample of a backing rhythm for Tenue Labrum Cunei.  The percussion (apart from the bass drum) is vocalized by Alfred, Thorfinn and Informal.

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12 July 2008:
A Rap: tenue labrum cunei

posted in art and nudity
It’s been quite a while since I made an entry here.  Among other reasons, I’ve been quite unwell for much of the time.  A partial list of some recent musical uploads can be found at the Deadman home-page.
I provide below some words to a little rap I wrote following the recent outcry over pictures of naked, young girls in art galleries and on the covers of arty magazines.  As you’ll see below, the hysterical response from the Australian Prime Minister, and the like, seems to provide a tenue labrum cunei—a thin edge of the wedge—, whereby prigs, prudes, puritans and nanny-staters try to control all aspects of erotic behaviour.  Not only do I suggest that one man’s heat is another man’s frisson,
or, in other words, what some bloke think be really hot, another cove would argue not, but I apprehend that some pious, self-appointed protectors of innocence have a warped and misanthropic view of human sexuality.
I may yet record this one of these days; until, then, imagine for yourself, if you like, a sttandard rap rhythm whereupon you can chant the words yourself.  (The stress is iambic throughout, by the way—thus, for instance, a line below should be stressed “ought we to ban each cat- a- logue”.)  You’ll notice, I hope, that in my rap you’ll find no sexist or racialist  calumniation, contumely or self-aggrandizement.
Art, Nudes and Deviants
or
de gustibus non est disputandum
   
Nam castum esse decet pium poetam    
ipsum, versiculos nihil necesse'st.       
(Catullus, C. xvi, 5-6.)       
   
 “Frankly, I can’t stand this stuff.”   

 (Kevin Rudd)      
I.
There is no image pure and chaste
that won’t find some perverted taste:
some men may tremble at those sights
of lissome lasses in their whites,
and some derive the keenest joy
from pictures of a well-dressed boy;
some welcome junk-mail with a grin
who favour photographs therein,
and, shunning models, others stare
at images of underwear.
Ought we to ban each catalogue
which might set even one agog,
and should we censor magazines.
which could be used for carnal means?
Thus, if we prove a paedophile
has found some joy in Country Style,
and often reads, with foul intent,
say, Inside Film or Monument,
the Lancet, Mad, the Village Voice,
Get Up and Go, Computer Choice,
perhaps some quarterly reviews
or Australasian Transport News,
Down Under Quilts or Marie Claire,
ought we to burn them then and there?

II.
Some folk would censor views of skin
in case someone be led to sin,
insisting children be unseen
until the age of, say, nineteen
unless they be completely dressed
in what some imam might suggest.
Now I, for one, should think it mad
to care too much how we are clad
and freely own that I’d not care
if nearby females wandered bare.
(Yes, female nudes are fine by me
from, say, thirteen to forty-three—
acknowledging that some look fine
well past the age of forty-nine.)
But I digress.  The point I make
is this: that if an artist take
a picture of a willing lass
it should not lead to some crevasse
in public structures and laments
of how our bodies cause offence.
We really should not let some prudes
promote such killjoy attitudes.
If we ban nudes, then what is next?
First goes the picture, then the text.

III.
Investigations could be made
into the literary trade.
Some paraphiliacs, we’re told
are drawn to many tales of old
in Ovid, Homer and, of course,
in Vergil, with the wooden horse,
and other poets, now obscure,
who evidently were not pure.
How Zeus appeared to Danaë
appeals to urophiles they say;
the zoöphiliacs enjoy
the myth of how a smart decoy
enabled Pasiphaë’s plan
to be a taurine courtesan;
Catullus’ Carmen 63
oh, keep that fury far from me—
has been, bizarrely, known to please
men wanting orchidectomies;
some epigrams of Martial, too,
attract a certain, cultured few;
and scholars find depravity
inside the Greek Anthology:
go read therein* and you might pale
at what the poets dared retail.
  
* In some editions of that work translators felt obliged to shirk the task of giving English form to practices outside the norm; they chose instead to put the Greek in Latin, to protect the meek.

IV.
Like charity, the paederast
begins at home; from first to last
he tries to find an easy prey
and rarely (the statistics say)
will venture from his comfort zone;
and yet the media intone
that careful parents ought to fear
the ugly stranger, not those near.
A naked picture of a child
will lead to—what? A man go wild?
No, what they often fear he’ll do,
I think, is sin-by-hand thereto;
but wherefore modes of private fun
would need concern another one
(unless a child were harmed, of course,
or had been photographed by force)
is not so clear to me.  Indeed,
the goads to yearning, spurs of need,
are manifold and passing strange,
and there is clearly quite a range
of ordinary things which might,
to some, bestow a great delight
though leaving others unimpressed.
Some folk esteem old footwear best,
and some will even get their rocks
off with a pair of cotton socks,
and, as I said before, some stare
at photographs of underwear.

   De gustibus, then, I conclude,
they should not be contemned as rude.
 
† Whoever breaks the law, I say, should certainly be put away.  I sanction only—please be clear—that conduct which is lawful here.

V.

The ones whom you call sick might view
as perverts those who act like you;
if you yourself want liberty,
you must allow the same for me.


© 2008
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16 June 2007:
Hands and Knees

I've added a new, slight ditty, Hands and Knees to Macidol. It's meant to be vaguely amusing. Many years ago a critic, after reading John Lennon’s recently published In His Own Write, opined that it made one reflect differently on Beatles songs, and suggested that, perhaps, when Lennon sang “I wanna hold your hand,” he wanted to bite it. I’m rather hoping that listeners will extract the ludicrously maximum amount of innuendo from Hands and Knees.
  
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5 June 2007:
Down by the Literary Riverside & Twelve

posted in music
On Monday evening I recorded these two new songs: Twelve is a fairly long run through a twelve-bar, with all the guitar done in one take whereto I then added (contrary to my usual practice) the rhythm section and other instruments; I did it as a warm-up before recording Down by the Literary Riverside, a very short, vaguely traditional song which I adapted slightly, whereof the words are as follows:
Down by the Literary Riverside
  
I’m gonna lay down my Sword of Honour trilogy, and
Scoop, and Put out More Flags, and Brideshead Revisited.
I’m gonna lay down my Sword of Honour trilogy, and
Black Mischief, and Decline and Fall.
I aint gonna study Waugh no more,
aint gonna study Waugh no more,
aint gonna study Evelyn Waugh no more.
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31 May 2007:
Pure Foods Eggs Are Not Bad at All

posted in music
Last month, I bought some allegedly fresh eggs from the Fresh Fruit Market in Salamanca Place, Hobart.  When I discovered that some were rotten, I sent an e-mail message to the Fresh Fruit Market which included the following:
  
I purchased a 900 g box of eighteen “Fresh Tasmanian Eggs” from you last Wednesday (18 April).  Unfortunately, five of the allegedly fresh eighteen eggs were by no means fresh—they were,in fact, rotten.  One egg was so not fresh that, upon being opened, revealed instead of a yellow yolk what appeared at first to be a brown and black Freddo.  Fortunately, I opened the egg into an empty bowl and so did not spoil other food, but it emitted a noisome stench which made the entire kitchen far from pleasant.
I do hope that this is not a common occurrence.
   
I received a reply from the Fresh Fruit Market which said that my message had been forwarded to Pure Foods Eggs, the supplier, who had been asked to “respond to [my] email and work out how to reimburse [me] for the 18pk eggs.”
I had thought that it would be the vendor’s responsibility to reimburse me, but at least the vendor had apologised; and I awaited a response from Pure Fresh Foods.  After receiving no further communication, I sent a message a week later:
    
I thank you for your speedy reply to my message of last week.
You said (inter alia):
> Please email us back if you do not get a reply email [from Pure Foods Eggs].
I have not yet received any communication from Pure Foods Eggs.
   
After waiting a month without receiving any further response, I decided to take stronger action.  Accordingly, on the 27th of May I dashed off the music and words of the following song.  I acknowledge that it might not be totally fair to Pure Foods Eggs—the nature of a sledging song is not particularly suited for impartial commentary—and, after all, the company did provide some good eggs in its carton; but, though my carton of eggs had some good ones, I have no wish to purchase a curate’s egg-carton; call me picky if you will, but I should as lief buy cartons of eggs which contain only good eggs and absolutely no bad ones.
Pure Foods Eggs Are Bad
   
I went to the Fresh Food Market to get supplies one day
It is not so far from me, down Salamanca way
Therein I bought a box of eggs—and fresh ones, I believed—
but five of them were rotten and and this is why I’m grieved.
   
Those Pure Foods Eggs they are certainly not pure—
whether they be food at all, I cannot be sure.
If you wanted counsel, this is what I’d say:
“those Pure Foods Eggs are not worth the price you pay.”
    
So, don’t use them in your kitchen unless you feel like retchin’;
don’t use them when it’s time to cook unless you’re keen on being crook;
and don't use them to make a cake: that would be a bad mistake;
omit them from your quiche lorraine unless you fancy stomach pain;
don’t use those Pure Foods Egg at all—aye, that is my advice—;
they’re not pure and they’re not food, and they’re not very nice.
   
Pure Foods Eggs are bad, Pure Foods Eggs are bad,
Pure Foods Eggs are bad, Pure Foods Eggs are bad,
Pure Foods Eggs are really bad.
   
So, don’t use them to make custard or you will be disgusted;
don’t use them when it’s time to bake unless you quite like stomach ache;
and don't use them to make your tea: that would lead to misery;
omit them from your breaky cup unless you fancy throwing up;
don’t use those Pure Foods Eggs at all—yes, that is our advice—;
they’re not pure and they’re not good, no, they’re not very nice.
An mp3 file of this song, by Pedicabo Vos & Irrumabo, can be downloaded from Macidol; and you can also listen to an mp3 file of the song’s chorus sung by Alfred (aged ten, mainly on the left channel) and Thorfinn (aged seven, mainly on the right channel) here:
8 June 07:
update

  
I received an e-mail message today from the Salamanca Fresh Food Market asking for my name, e-mail address and telephone number (which I did immediately supply—though I had already provided these details, which can also be located readily in the telephone book and on-line); and I saw the posting, in the comments section below, allegedly sent by Pure Foods Eggs, that Pure Foods Eggs had been unable to contact me. I therefore sent my addresses and telephone number to that e-mail address too; but, as you can see by reading the second comment below, that e-mail was undeliverable.
In case you were wondering, the links here, such as the one which says “e-mail Deadman,” do work.
  
8 June 07:
further update

  
I just spoke on the telephone to Ian Jongschaap, of Pure Foods Eggs, who apologised for the rotten eggs I had bought and for the delay in contacting me.  (See also the third comment in the comments section below.)  He sought details of the rotten eggs, and explained how a rare slip in quality might occur in their usually excellent quality-control process.  I may have to change the name of this song to “Pure Foods Eggs Are Only Occasionally Bad,” or even “Pure Foods Eggs Are Actually Quite All Right.”  This requires more thought, and I’ll come back to this again.  Meanwhile, I welcome your suggestions.  It does seem unikely, now, that I’ll be issuing a dance-mix of the song on CD.
  
15 June 07:
further update

  
I today received a carton of nice new, fresh eggs from Ian Jongschaap of Pure Foods Eggs (as well as a lovely shirt and cap which Alfred and I model below).  We discussed, among other things, the likelihood that I shall rewrite the words to the “Pure Foods Eggs” song and, without being pressured in any way whatsoever, I was happy to say that I shall probably soon record another version (or even a different song entirely) with words more complimentary to Pure Foods Eggs and its sterling products.
   

   

  
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30 May 2007:
The Wilderness Society's Exemplary Conduct

posted in misc.
I received the following notice in my mail-box today (along with a brochure which I tossed into the rubbish bin without reading):
a jpg file of the notice
Some unthinking, narrow-minded people may consider that this notice smacks of hypocrisy: “after all,” these foolish boobs might say, “don’t people purchase ‘No Junk Mail’ stickers—often from The Wilderness Society—in the expectation that it will prevent all junk mail from infesting their letterboxes once affixed thereon?  Is it not hypocritical when an organisation, such as The Wilderness Society, which loudly and regularly calls for laws and regulations to be enforced in the cases of other people and corporations, is not itself prepared to comply with laws, regulations, rules and conventions?”   Sadly, these unreflective dopes fail to realise that The Wilderness Society and its members are special, and are fighting for what is right, and need not obey any direction from any authority or individual citizen which goes counter to their own deeply intuitive ideas.
That The Wilderness Society is special, and right, and may therefore ignore anything it deems inconvenient does, of course, set an example for other special people to follow:  you too, if you are walking your dog, may allow it to crap on the footpath, and leave the turds there to inconvenience other pedestrians, in contravention of the law, if you think that you’re special and would rather not dispose of the faeces properly; you too, if you wish said canine to roam around the playground near the children playing, despite the signs announcing a prohibition of dogs’ being within ten meters of the slides and swings, and you think that you’re special, need only write a note saying so, and you may act as you list; if you wish to exceed the speed limits, to drive on the wrong side of the road, to take cuttings of plants from any public land, to nail signs to trees, to sell bottles of wine without adequate labelling to denote what sort of product be within and whether potentially lethal preservatives have been added thereto, to perform terminations of pregnancy in your kitchen, or, in short, if you wish to do absolutely anything which seems necessary or convenient or fun, and you think that you’re special and that the rules need not apply to you, just write a little note saying so and go right ahead.

[added later:]  Some may query why The Wilderness Society—which, apparently, does not approve of logging trees only for them to be converted into paper which in turn is used for brochures and leaflets which are thrown into rubbish bins without their being read—still prints its propaganda when it would be far cheaper to publish on websites and to spend considerably less of their funds on then publicising its URLs.  The silly people who would pose such ridiculous questions are probably unable to see the subtle irony of The Wilderness Society’s wasting of resources which that organisation expects the public to appreciate and, then, to lament.
  
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17 March 2007:
It's been a while ...

posted in misc.
since I last posted an entry on this blog--back when it had a different web address, before the evil telecommunications company enforced the change of name--; I’ve added a few more songs to the Macidol site, and I’ve also established another site at myspace.

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23 September 2006:
Didn't we invent basketball?

posted in misc.

"Even in sports, the world has caught us"

by Sandy Grady (from yahunews- opinion)

... You heard the furious chorus Sept. 1 when handpicked professionals, coached by Duke's TV-ad-star Mike Krzyzewski, lost to Greece in the world basketball championships. Didn't we [and here he means those in the USA] invent basketball?
Well, since he asks:  No.
  
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12 September 2006:
I Want to Smell You

posted in misc.
I Want to Smell You, a burlesque version of The Beatles’ I Want to Tell You, is now available.
  
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9 September 2006:
Crikey, Dr Greer

posted in music
A little ditty about a ditsy Dr Greer who recently opined that the accidental death of the late Steve Irwin was the animal kingdom’s revenge for his ‘disrespect’ towards animals.
  Crikey, Dr Greer
 
  Dr Greer, Germaine Greer,
  she’s such a silly, senile dear:
    she’s out of date, she’s past it,
  but she's hoping to appear
  on any TV program, it matters not how queer.
  Dr Greer, you’re so sincere,
  Germaine Greer.

  Dr Greer, Germaine Greer,
  she’s such a foolish, crotcheteer.
    She calls herself Australian,
  but why it is not clear;
  she’ll probably not visit us, any time this year.
  Dr Greer, you’re so severe,
  Germaine Greer.
Pedicabo Vos & Irrumabo at Macidol
  
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9 September 2006:
Mr Pitt's marvellous example

posted in misc.
From yahoonews:

A Mr. B. Pitt says he won’t be marrying a Ms. A. Jolie until the restrictions on who can marry whom are dropped.

Angie and I will consider tying the knot when everyone else in the country who wants to be married is legally able,” the 42-year-old actor reveals in Esquire magazine's October issue, on newsstands Sept. 19.


What a marvellous example.  Likewise, I shan’t obtain a driver's licence until all who want to obtain one may;  I shan’t drink in licensed hostelries until anyone who wants to drink therein may; I shan’t buy a firearm until anyone who wants to buy one may; and, following the lead which Mr Pitt and Ms Jolie are doublessly setting, I shan’t drink clean water, eat nutritious food, travel internationally, read a good book, pay more for a house than the cost of maintaining a third-world village for a year, buy necessary medication at a reasonable cost, stay in four-star hotels, accept gratuitous luxuries from sycophants, spend days on end travelling for no real purpose, idle, talk crap to media outlets, accept disgustingly high salaries for appearing in mediocre motion pictures, or live with someone as if married (and according to many jurisdictions be, de facto, married) until ...
  
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23 August 2006:
wife of the late?

posted in misc.
From yahonews:
In a news release issued this week, Nelson touts a Sept. 5 Washington rally in support of the bill sponsored by Rep. John Sweeney, R-N.Y. Nelson said he won't be at the rally, but his daughter Amy will, along with other celebrities, including former "10" star Bo Derek and Jennifer Pryor, wife of the late comedian Richard Pryor.
  What happened to the perfectly adequate word 'widow'?  Is the late Richard Pryor still lawfully married?  This is almost as bad, I submit, as the use of ‘woman’ instead of ‘female’ such as when journalists say, for example, “women athletes” instead of “female athletes” or even “athletes”.

   In news at home, I’ve started fixing the Latin Verbs page at the Later Latin Society site, beginning with abstineo.

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17 August 2006:
the first entry

posted in music
Greetings.

Listen to some demo versions of some Deadman Turner songs at MacIdol.
Links are also at the informalmusic homepage at informalmusic.com.

Farewell


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