Captain Purplehead

Sorry about my prolonged absence but I have undergone minor surgery. No, I haven’t had a prosthetic eye implanted; I had to have my wisdom teeth removed. What a fucking name for a part of the body that is quite obviously a glaring design flaw. Wisdom takes me nicely on to the subject of this brief rant.
Leona Helmsley, a New York Hotel and property billionaire has died and left $12m to her dog. Trouble, an adorable little pooch is now the wealthiest dog in New York - ok, maybe Liza Manelli is wealthier but she lives in LA now. $12m to a dog! Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs. My dog is such a part of the family now that she has her own phone - it’s a rubber phone and it squeaks but nevertheless… If Leona Helmsley loved animals so much, why didn’t she leave the money to an animal charity? The world has truly gone mad. The majority of the population of the planet is in dire straits and we have stupid fucking idiots leaving an amount of money that could make a real difference in the world to a dog.
One hundred million dollars, pounds or Euro is an obscene amount of money. You have the likes of the Beckhams attending all the more stylish charity events but Dayfid won’t wear the same pair of trainers twice. Needless extravagance in a world that has so much poverty. Our own Bono, is worth a fortune but he believes that his fans want him to have oodles of dosh. No they fucking don’t, you fucking moron. Don’t wax lyrical about how we can save the starving children in Africa when you could save a decent sized country from poverty without too much sacrifice. At least Bill Gates puts his money where his mouth is. Do you ever notice the change in accent that occurs when Bono is being interviewed in America? Take a long look at yourself, Bono.
Giving $12m dollars to a dog says a lot about the late idiot, Leona Helmsley.

Ok, I don’t watch much TV but I do recognise lack of quality when I see it. I’ve just had a discussion with Barnacle Joe about what passes for televisual entertainment these days. I won’t even go into the whole Big Brother thing because, if you derive any entertainment from that, you’re way past saving. One of the programmes discussed was C.S.I. Apparently it stands for Crime Scene Investigation. Now there are many C.S.Is and none of them are any good. I have to admit to only watching fifteen minutes of one episode but it was enough.
You then have the soaps. Eastenders is probably the greatest load of fucking tripe ever committed to film but people seem to be obsessed with it. For a start, someone dies every Christmas. I mean, people have enough to worry about during the silly season without being brought down by shite actors crying over the death of a shite character. Christmas shows should be funny. They should cheer us up because it can be a really dodgy time of year. The last thing we need to hear is whingy fucking cockney morons arguing over who shagged Dot Cotton first!
When I was a young pirate with both my eyes and legs, I remember being entertained by television. There were some great shows but they only seem to rerun the shite ones. Like Murder She Wrote, for instance. Is it just me or was Jessica Fletcher the most successful serial killer of all time? Cabot Cove was a small place but look at the amount of murders they had there. Ok, that might not implicate her but she fucking knew every single victim. There’s just gotta be something in that. I know, I know, you’re now saying that everyone knows everyone in a small town like Cabot Cove but Jessica Fletcher’s crime spree was not confined to just Cabot Cove. If she went to visit a friend in Paris, someone got whacked. She is invited to lecture on literature at a some college in Wisconsin and someone gets whacked. She has to go to hospital for minor surgery and someone in the hospital gets whacked. There must be a time that you stop putting everything down to coincidence. And why did no one ever try to intimidate her? If I had murdered someone and there was an elderly busy body snooping around me, I’d make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. You’d have to make exceptions for Miss Marple. I mean, there’s one tough fucking bitch. She might look frail but there’s something about her. Nancy Drew is another one. I wouldn’t trust her to understand a game of Connect 4, nevermind, put her in charge of an investigation. She was a fucking cheerleader for fuck’s sake! If they made another Nancy Drew series, it would probably star Sarah Michelle Gellar.
Nancy: “I like so totally think that Debbie killed Brad. She was like so totally like jealous? of his like tan?”
That brings me to the Hardy Boys. Come on! They didn’t fucking solve anything and why did the younger one have to fucking sing in every second episode? If you remember the Hardy Boys, a note with a clue mysteriously appeared under their door in every single episode. Did they do any sleuthing at all? Not on your fucking nelly. They were stumped and somebody left a note to get them back on track. Mind you, it was probably Jessica Fletcher trying to lure them out into the open so that she could strike with lethal efficiency.
Which brings us nicely on to Diagnosis Murder. O for fuck’s sake. Similar to Jessica, Dick Van Dyke’s character is obviously getting rid of these people himself. Everyone he knows gets fucking killed. They might as well have named his character Harold Shipman. And why is he always given a chance to show off his tap dancing skills. I fucking hate tap. It’s annoying. If my shoes made that much noise I’d fuck em away. What is it with fucking tap dancers that forces them to inflict their chosen dance on us at any given opportunity. tippity-tappity-tippity-tap Here’s a pair of slippers, now fuck off. I watched an episode of It’s Me or the Dog recently and it focussed on Bruce Forsythe’s daughter. When they went back to Bruce’s house he says, “My tap dancing used to drive the dog crazy so let’s see if he’s improved.” Next thing he’s tap dancing his fucking chucklehead off and the dog looks decidedly distressed. Fuck off, you tap dancing fuckers. I fucking hate tap dancing!
The problem with movies in the eighties was Kenny fucking Loggins. Everything was dangerzone this and on the edge that. I swear to fuck.. Kenny fucking Loggins! He was all fluffy beard and plastic guitar. I FUCKING HATE KENNY FUCKING LOGGINS!! Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m just after remembering that waste of fucking space. I know I’ve gone way off the point here but I’m gonna have to go because I now have Footloose stuck in my head. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Elvis Costello…………….. More than enough said. This is a brilliant version of a classic by a band whose frontman shouldn’t have taken himself so seriously.

Not his but a Burt song

Enough said……………………………………

I am in the process of building a guitar. Now I don’t want you to go off with images of my gently carving a shape from wood. I don’t want you to visualise your resident Irish pirate with a spokeshave and a pensive look on his face. No, I have bought a cheap guitar, gutted it and am in the process of turning it into something unique. I do, however, need help. I have the pick-ups and general sound stuff sorted but I am an apprentice novice’s apprentice’s admirer when it comes to the machinations of design.
I’ve spoken at length about the criminally forgotten brilliance of some Limerick musicians. My intention is to get newspaper clippings of these bands and glue them to the body of the guitar in a kind of hap-hazard way but I need to seal them in. It is at this point that I have a problem. I’ve tried a clear laquer but it hasn’t worked. It probably needs to be applied expertly and I’m no expert. Having said that, I’d really like to do this myself. If any of you have any advice on how I can do this, it would be very welcome.
I have rediscovered my love of music. I realise that this has stifled the proliferation of my posts whilst dampening the quality or relevance but fuck it… I’ve finally got it.
When I started learning to play guitar, I wanted it to happen yesterday. I was impatient and I took shortcuts. I didn’t take lessons because I thought it would take too long. I completely bypassed theory in favour of practice and I didn’t do enough of that. I have only now started to become curious about the instrument that I love and I want to know everything about it. This is a very boring post and I apologise for that but I would love to start again with the guitar that I’m building. If any of you know of anyone who can offer advice, let me know in the comments section.

I’ve been a little remiss and sporadic in my rantings of late and I apologise for this. The reason is that I have purchased a guitar effect called “The POG” and it’s kind of addictive. I don’t normally write reviews of gadgetry and this isn’t one but I must say, this yoke is the most fun I’ve had since that time I stapled Slimey Pete’s scrotum to the deck while he was sleeping and yelled, “YYYAAARRRR THAR BE TYGERS”. Slimey Pete hated misspellings.
So, the POG. It stands for Poly Octave Generator, which might not mean anything to you but I assure you tis a wonder of modern madness. My knowledge of piano is limited at best but I have been playing the Hammond Organ for the last few days without ever having to swap my instrument. I have also played a twelve string, a bass, a weird instrument that I call The Frube - for I’ve heard nothing like it - and even the bagpipes. I have discovered a medium through which I can combine Hendrix and fucking polka. I call it, Hendrolka. Fear not; I haven’t crossed to the darkside, I’ve just been experimenting with sound. Just thought I’d explain why. I love the POG. I’d love it even more if Electro Harmonics - the manufacturer of said wonder - would make it available with presets.
If you’re a guitar player with a three hundred odd quid to spend, go get a POG and rediscover your instrument. If you’re one of those FUCKING WANKERS who stand in a corner with your midi-files, singing all the latest hits, GET OFF MY FUCKING SITE, YOU RANCID, SYCHOPHANTIC FUCKING MORONS!!!

I’m not happy with Ireland. I’m not happy with the way we have swapped our culture for a mid-atlantic amalgam of coloquialist bollox. I’m not happy with our government. I’m not happy with the fucking Dublin foor idiots who seem to be allowed to speak in public far too often. I’m not happy that our power company - the ESB - have said that they only hiked the price of electricity to encourage competition but now will reduce prices to compete with that competition. Here’s a sales pitch; GIVE US BACK OUR FUCKING MONEY, YOU ROBBING FUCKING BASTARDS!! I’m not fucking happy but I’m Irish. I’m happy to come from the same country as J.P Dunleavey. I’m happy to come from the same county as Richard Harris. I’m happy to be loosely associated with a nation that spawned James Joyce, Phil Lynott, Rory Gallagher and Paul McGrath.
So, my point: I was at a loose end in the early hours of the morning and decided that I’d try to get some value for money for the ridiculous licence fee I’m being charged. To this end, I channel surfed but wasn’t surprised to find little of interest. I decided to watch an episode of Star Trek - The Next Generation. I’m not a Trekkie but I can disengage my brain from time to time and watch the odd episode. This particular episode saw the Enterprise called to the aid of a stricken colony on a dying planet. As there were only a few hundred colonists, Captain Picard decided to beam them all up and take them to the nearest habitable planet.
At this point I should point out that this series is set in the 24th century.
The colonists arrived with pigs, hens, straw and whisky. They were, of course, Irish - or at least that species of Irish people who speak like Tom Cruise in Far and Away. The men all wore hats and tweed and the ladies wore homemade sackcloth dresses. So, here we are in the 24th century and we’re still eeking out a living from the farm. For fuck’s sake!
I wonder what America would think if we made movies where they were represented as ignorant, violent and malevolent white trash? We know that most Americans aren’t like that but, if they want to stereotype us, why then shouldn’t we stereotype them?
“Ah sure Caap’n Paacard. That be a foine transpartar ye have there. Sure tis a ship wander. I’uz wanderin if ye moight see yar self clear to canjaring me up a bottle of Oirish whisky?”
I realise that, under the stewardship of our current government, we may well end up like this by the end of this century but what ever happened to the land of Saints & Scholars?

In a month or so, we Irish residents will be asked to pay the princely sum of one hundred and fifty six Euro for the privilege of being permitted to watch Irish television. To put it another way; €156.00. Or WHAT THE FUCK?????
One hundred and fifty fucking six Euro for the pleasure of watching Sean Ban prance around a stage like a fucking idiot!! One fucking hundred and fifty six fucking Euro so that we can watch a pompous and self-involved Gerry Ryan interviewing nobodies on his fucking awful chat show? One fucking hundred and fifty fucking six fucking Euro for the treat of watching Plank Kenny host the Shite Shite Show! One fucking Hun - fucking - dred and fucking fifty fucking six fucking Euro so that they can continue to make that fucking awful Dublin soap!!
When in the name of fuck are Irish people going to get together and say, “NO FUCKING WAY!”? When are we going to say, “I’VE JUST ABOUT HAD ENOUGH OF YOU FUCKING RIPPING ME OFF, YOU USELESS SHOWER OF FUCKING WANKERS”?
Enough of the fucking “ah sure” politics!
“Ah sure there feckin ridin us. Heh heh.”
“That fucking right. They are ridin us so what are you going to do about it?”
“Ah sure they won’t listen to me now, heh heh heh.”
For fuck’s sake! If we are to be paying top fucking dollar for a service which has been, thus far, piss fucking poor, then we should at least demand that they start putting something decent on. TV3 and Channel 6 are just plagiarised versions of Sky One so I’m not fucking paying for that shit. There are more shitty American dramas like the OC and fucking Dawson’s Creek and shitty American sit-coms like Will and fucking Grace than you can shake a fucking stick at. I don’t watch those so I want a fucking discount on my licence fee.
In the midst of all this, they give Gerry fucking Ryan and Plank fucking Kenny a fucking raise! Gerry Ryan is getting €550,000 a year. FOR FUCKING WHAT????
If a couple of people refuse to pay this ridiculous fee, we’ll go to jail. If everyone refused to pay it, they would be forced to review it. Will this happen? Not on your fucking life.