Monthly Archives: August 2015

When the Saints Go Marching In…

David Cameron is obviously a ladies man who seems to revere ‘brassy’ women, according to an article in last Friday’s Daily Mail.

His choice is not to be sneered at, for the women in question display a capacity for a picturesque view of themselves in outfits that compete with our celebrities of today, who use their well-formed bodies to allure both sexes as part of their job curriculum.

Tamara Mellon, shoe designer, is the trade tsar, Carol Vorderman, the maths tsar, Michelle Mone, Mr Cameron’s latest tsar of small firms, while political high-flyer Karren Brady now sits in the Lords as business tsar.

However, The question remains. Is the new policy of David Cameron’s government designed to bring forth women of great sexual appeal to galvanise us into an innovative strategy of intoxication no matter what their credentials are?

Enough said, is perhaps more apt in the circumstances, as discretion is my new armoury on this rare instance.

Instead, I’ll leave it to my readers to spell out their words of wisdom…

Jazz Summers

Jazz Summers, who lived his life to the full, is no longer with us.  He died over the weekend after struggling with cancer.

A man of many parts, he was a soldier who became one of the music industry’s most successful managers. Jazz managed Wham!, Lisa Stansfield, Yazz, Soul ll Soul, The Verve, Badly Drawn Boy, Snow Patrol, Klaxons, La Roux, Scissor Sisters and London Grammar, among many others.

I met Jazz when Quartet published his book, Big Life. I remember telling him before we signed the contract that Quartet, being an independent publisher, has a policy of not (or only very rarely) giving advances against royalties. He looked at me straight in the eye and retorted, ‘I can do better than that. We’re now partners. Whatever the book costs to publish I’ll pay half, and we share the profits – if any.’ He kept his word.

I was taken aback by his largesse and we became friends.

He was a remarkable man. He wrote, ‘I don’t wanna write a book. There is some great books about the music industry. Some classics. Full of people getting pissed and on coke in the morning. I wanna write a book that changes people’s lives…’

He was in many ways a legendary figure, a chance-taker and a hell-raiser you automatically fell for. He had a wicked charm which was irresistible.

Although I wish I knew him more closely, he remains an icon to many who knew him better.

biglifeRead his book and you will appreciate the sort of man we lost.

May the Almighty add him to his brigade of men who made their mark in terrestrial terms for the enjoyment of others.

Thought for the Day

Sex to many is a most complex phenomenon.

Its constitution varies with the subject matter and its practice ranges from the mechanical to the more sophisticated art form, which produces what we call an erotic wave of ecstasy that leads to orgasmic heights.

But eroticism is linked to individual preferences and to a visual impact of great variation that beguiles some and leaves others unaffected by its sensual rays; these bounce back for lack of receptivity by the individual concerned.

In other words, eroticism is perceived as a component to personal taste not alien to culinary peculiarities which enthral some and are unpalatable to others.

The similarity between food and sex inspired by eroticism is strikingly remarkable, for both, like music, give the body the comfort it seeks and the sexual desire that keeps youth and vigour in excellent working condition.

The pictures reproduced here show the different scale of how sex manifest itself in order to entice and subjugate its possible victims.

The readers of my blog are invited to give me their comments, in the hope that these will add to my education on this important subject.

A Woman of Courage

eyes-in-gazaEyes in Gaza, a book which Quartet reprinted as an updated edition two years ago, remains as relevant today as it was after Israel’s onslaught – which to all purposes destroyed the Palestinian enclave of refugees and Hamas fighters, causing thousands of deaths and a tragedy almost unparalleled in modern times.

So it is refreshing for a change to read that Kate Rothschild, a daughter of one of the world’s most famous Jewish dynasties, and notorious for leaving her husband, Ben Goldsmith, for a rapper, is found in Gaza risking kidnap, on a humanitarian mission in search of a solution to the problem that fresh drinking water is in short supply, adding to the miseries of the trapped inhabitants.

Charlotte Edwards, writing for The Times, caught up with Kate leaning over the balcony of their hotel in Gaza City, having a fag.

 

Below, to the thud and jungle of Arabic music, women are swimming fully clothed in the pool, where across the road is a Hamas military camp. Edwards describes Kate as ‘calm, her Lady of Shallot hair hoicked into an untidy ponytail,’ while the interviewer states: ‘I’m not, still sweating from a manic check of the room – shower, wardrobe, cupboard under the basement – for hidden jihadists.’

She adds: ‘It’s exactly a year since the fifty-two-day bombardment of Israeli F-16s and while the danger of kidnapping is low, I’m wondering if, in this Hamas-governed, Fatah-operated enclave – with a smattering of Islamic State-supporting Salafists – someone may make an exception for a daughter of the world’s most famous Jewish dynasty. After all, the Rothschilds helped build Israel – including the Knesset and Courts of Justice, and the Balfour Declaration – official British support for a Jewish home in Palestine – was actually a letter from Lord Balfour to Lord Rothschild. So if you’re going to target anyone… Don’t worry, Kate smiles, pounding out her fag, “If they come I’ll point at you and say that’s Kate there.”’

Without meeting Kate, I find her a woman of immense courage who must have realised that such a trip is fraught with danger but, nevertheless, discarded her own safety to give succour, and alleviate to some degree what such a tragedy causes to a civilian population trying to survive.

‘And there is an additional unspoken layer to her commitment; her father loved this land. Some Israelis have called her a traitor,’ Edwards says, ‘but Rothschild remains the queen of glacial reserve.’

But for me, a most moving e-mail Kate subsequently sent to her interviewer sums it all up. She says:

I could write page after page on Gaza. I fell in love and had my heart broken countless times. I wept at the devastation but also laughed with the brilliant, funny, brave people I meet. The humour is like Israelis: dark, matter of fact. It’s not surprising; both nations were born into war, front-line living, shoulder to shoulder to death.

Humour helps them cope. Gaza is an embattled yet magical place, noble and proud in the face of extreme, unacceptable suffering. I leave the region with the same heavy feelings people, much brighter and more eloquent, have described through the years.

I have just one small, unfurling seed of optimism; knowing that if water could be disentangled from war, it presents a genuine opportunity for cooperation and relationship-building between neighbours. In all the gloom there is a glimmer of hope and its right there, in the water.

What a considerable woman she’s proved to be. People like her, with such empathy and courage, are rare to find.

Perhaps peace, after all, is still within reach.

Is Sex with a Prostitute the Safer Option?

Japanese culture and individual behaviour are in a class of their own.

However, some of it is thought-provoking and is certainly worth a deeper analysis as it ventures into areas which are traditionally considered by the West as enshrined in its legal system.

Not it seems in a ruling that will be welcomed by philanderers the world over, when a court in Japan has said that a husband who sleeps with another woman is not committing adultery as long as the sex is a business transaction and not by implication a love tryst.

A judge ruled that a bar hostess, who had a seven-year affair with a wealthy businessman, was not hurting his wife because she slept with him only to keep his lucrative custom. In other words, no emotional value was attached to the relationship that would put his marriage in jeopardy.

Judge Masamitsu Shiseki, of the Yokohama District Court said that the twice monthly trysts fell into the category of makuva eigyo – literally ‘pillow business’, the well-established practice by which a hostess rewards a high-spending patron with sexual favours. ‘Many club hostesses, as is well known, engage in ‘pillow business’ and these pillow business sales, which are similar to prostitution, involve no more than engaging in sex for the purpose of satisfying their customers’ sexual urges,’ the judge wrote in his ruling. ‘This, therefore, is not something that will damage the tranquillity of a marriage, nor does it constitute a violation of the law.’

The question arose because of another quirk of Japanese law which allows a spouse to claim financial compensation for adultery – not from an unfaithful wife, but from the lover. The measure is supposed to protect the institution of marriage.

The wife of the businessman in question demanded four million yen (£21,000) in compensation from the mama-san or ‘proprietress’ of a club in the exclusive Ginza district of Tokyo.

A statement by the husband admitted that once or twice a month, mainly on Saturdays, he met the woman for lunch, after which they proceeded to a hotel to engage in sex and then went their separate ways. The hostess, who like the husband and wife has not been named, denied that sexual intercourse occurred.

The ruling is particularly devastating for Japanese private detectives who do a good business proving adultery at the request of vengeful spouses hoping to win compensation. It is rather curious that the case was heard last year, but has only been made public recently.

Well, the important point in all this can be translated that sex without love is not adulterous; simply considered a financial transaction bereft of any emotional value and unlikely to threaten the sanctity of the marriage. For sex, without commitment, becomes a mechanical means for sexual urges and has no relevance to anything else.

I personally would welcome the wisdom of those who read my blog to see whether the ruling makes any sense or is sheer bunkum…

The Signs of a Happy Bonding

Rock star Matt Bellamy must have Italian blood in his genes.

Pictured caressing the bum of his girlfriend Elle Evans while on the beach, he reminds me of Italian men’s obsession with the habit of pinching women’s bottoms as they pass by within range of their hands.

Although Matt’s gesture is more as a result of a gentle sun-stroke, and a loving expression, the pinching as practised by Italian men, is more a rumbustious fun-seeking deed to arouse unwanted attention.

Nevertheless, both displays are done in good humour – except that feminists are unlikely to see the funny side of it all.

As the pictures demonstrate, the Muse singer, thirty-seven, and Elle, twenty-five, struggled to keep their hands off each other during a volleyball game in Malibu.

Isn’t life great when love is genuinely exercised, where sensuality is predominant and in full view?

A source close to Matt said: ‘He can’t get enough of Elle. He’s been gauging reactions on whether he should make it something more official.’

The gorgeous Elle, who began dating Matt in April, is best known for starring as a dancer in a video for Robin Thicke’s song ‘Blurred Lines’. She’s about to star in her first big movie, aptly titled Muse.

Good luck to the besotted couple, for their relationship augurs well for a happy bonding.

A Political Storm on the Horizon

Jeremy Corbyn looks unstoppable.

With his messianic ardour and left-wing mania, he beguiles those who feel society has left them behind and are intent to take their revenge, no matter what.

The Conservatives came to power when the odds were against them and won only because Labour turned the clock back and reverted to a socialist dogma that had no place in today’s competitive world, where individual incentives are the most effective pathway to prosperity.

Not content to learn their lesson, Labour are now in the throes of virtually committing hara-kiri.

Jeremy Corbyn, despite his charismatic appeal to the have-nots and his wealth of oratory, is unlikely to achieve real power as Labour will become unelectable if he is to win the forthcoming election of the leadership of his party.

Key backers have come out in the open to warn that discarded left-wing policies by the majority of the electorate will lock the party out of power for decades. Labour’s biggest individual donors have pledged to stop giving money if Corbyn becomes leader, a move that could leave the party almost entirely dependent on trade union funding.

The trade unions themselves, given their latest unpopularity with the public for their unreasonable behaviour by their strike action on the Underground – which is costing the country millions of pounds in lost earnings – are now considered by many to be a new threat to the growth of the economy and as such they will feel the brunt on their financial kitty.

Watching the mania that he generates, Corbyn is perhaps the most dreadful of politicians; capable of mesmerising his adoring followers with his sharp quizzical eminence, and a matter of fact comportment that spells a mad fervour to change the political and economic system upside down and wreak deadly havoc in the process.

Unfortunately, bar a miracle, Corbyn, as I said at the outset, is unstoppable.

The other contestants for the leadership are, I’m afraid, lacking in the qualities and the presence that make them an inspiring lot, worthy of much consideration.

At least they will act as buffer zone to prevent the election of a man whose lunacy of ideas is so extreme as to cause shivers of fear throughout the nation.

For that alone, we must thank their intervention however useless it turns out to be.