#semolina pilchard

[syndicateanyboat]

VIDEO OF ALL TIME

[tavolgisvist]

As if its insularity and self-obsession were not enough, Liverpool’s uniqueness is reinforced every time a local opens his mouth. There is no sound like it. A Liverpool voice is so obviously of Liverpool. It’s not English, nor even Northern. It’s Scouse, and the Scouser is doomed to stand out, come what may. As Paul McCartney puts it: ‘Liverpool has its own identity. It’s even got its own accent within about a ten-mile radius. Once you go outside that ten miles it’s “deep Lancashire, lad”. I think you do feel that apartness, growing up there.’ ‘People outside hated us,’ said Cilia Black, ‘because of the way we spoke, especially the fellas, who were very guttural. If you asked for a drink in a pub in Blackpool or North Wales they’d throw you out.’ If it’s true, as one theory goes, that human speech began in song, then some accents are always trying to get back there. Liverpudlian is one of them. You could hear that sing-song musicality in the suburban, south Liverpool speaking voices of the Beatles; even their deadpan statements carried a lilt, not to mention timing, of metronomic precision. The north Liverpool dockland voice is harsher, faster, more threatening. It can sound like a rusty sub-machine gun, but it carries the driving beat that powered rock’n’roll. Melody and rhythm were already lurking in the Liverpool accent. It only awaited a few guitars and a drum-kit to liberate them. <…> Liverpudlian speech indicates a playful approach to language and logic. Sailors were great importers of foreign words - banana, jamboree, tornado. The port of Liverpool would have heard new words brought ashore on every tide, refreshing the native fondness for verbal novelties. ‘Scouse’ itself is one example, probably from a Scandinavian seafarers’ term for Lapland stew. The wilful twisting of syllables (‘antwacky’ for antique, ‘Parthenion’ for Parthenon) is probably Irish, with a dose of instinctive Surrealism. When critics thought John Lennon must have studied James Joyce, they missed the linguistic roots the two men shared. Nor was John’s ingenious gibberish entirely drawn from Lewis Carroll and Edward Lear; Ringo’s way with word-play (‘a hard day’s night’, ‘eight days a week’) was nothing special. They merely grew up in a place where people talk like that, all the time. It was always dangerous to waste time decoding Beatle lyrics. (Why does Desmond change sex during ‘Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da’? Would semolina pilchards really climb the Eiffel Tower?) Precision is not a characteristic of this city, where the word ‘thingy’ is indispensable. (‘It’s a thingy! A fiendish thingy!’ cries George in Help!) In fact the Liver Bird itself, from the civic coat of arms, was only a medieval draughtsman’s vague attempt to draw a cormorant. It looks nothing like one. Thus the Liverpool skyline is commanded by twin monuments to artistic licence. <…> Will Scouse survive? There is a bleak outlook for all regional accents. The ‘Estuarial’ English of the South-East seeps across the land like spilt tea on a tablecloth. Mick Jagger’s faux-prole drawl - wiv all its, like, gloh-al stops and all at kinda hng, yeah? - is much preferred to anything else. It’s the ‘Mockney’ accent that proper English speakers are now trading down towards. It’s the one respect in which the Rolling Stones might eventually prove more influential than the Beatles.

(Liverpool - Wondrous Place by Paul Du Noyer, 2002)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI), (VII), (VIII), (IX), (X), (XI), (XII), (XIII), (XIV), (XV), (XVI), (XVII), (XVIII), (XIX), (XX), (XXI), (XXII)

+ about scouse and our lads

[rotcivnasrabb]

THE BEATLES ~ I AM THE WALRUS

I am he as you are he as you are me

And we are all together

See how they run like pigs from a gun

See how they fly

I'm crying

Sitting on a corn flake

Waiting for the van to come

Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday

Man you've been a naughty boy

You let your face grow long

I am the egg man

They are the egg men

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob

Mister City policeman sitting

Pretty little policemen in a row

See how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run

I'm crying, I'm crying

I'm crying, I'm crying

Yellow matter custard

Dripping from a dead dog's eye

Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess

Boy, you've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down

I am the egg man

They are the egg men

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob

Sitting in an English garden

Waiting for the sun

If the sun don't come you get a tan

From standing in the English rain

I am the egg man (now good sir)

They are the egg men (a poor man, made tame to fortune's blows)

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob (good pity)

Expert, texpert choking smokers

Don't you think the joker laughs at you (ho ho ho, hee hee hee, hah hah hah)

See how they smile like pigs in a sty, see how they snide

I'm crying

Semolina Pilchard

Climbing up the Eiffel tower

Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna

Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe

I am the egg man

They are the egg men

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob

Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob, goo

Joob, joob, jooba

Jooba, jooba, jooba

Joob, jooba

Joob, jooba

Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper (jooba, jooba)

Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Slave

Thou hast slain me

Villain, take my purse

If I ever

Bury my body

The letters which though find'st about me

To Edmund Earl of Gloucester

Seek him out upon the British Party

O untimely death

I know thee well

A serviceable villain, as duteous to the vices of thy mistress

As badness would desire

What, is is he dead?

Sit you down, Father, rest you

vgb

I can recall countless times, in my younger days...sitting on a corn flake, waiting for the van to come. Haven't we all?

I will not suggest the hallucinogens back yonder had the potentcy of today's marijuana versus the weed back yonder...with few exceptions. The break down of these lyrics intoxicate me. The answer...John Lennon...? ‘nuff said

vgb

[transpotato5]

I am he as you are he as you are me And we are all together See how they run like pigs from a gun See how they fly I'm crying

Sitting on a corn flake Waiting for the van to come Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday Man you've been a naughty boy You let your face grow long

I am the egg man They are the egg men I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob

Mister City policeman sitting Pretty little policemen in a row See how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run I'm crying, I'm crying I'm crying, I'm crying

Yellow matter custard Dripping from a dead dog's eye Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess Boy, you've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down

I am the egg man They are the egg men I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob

Sitting in an English garden Waiting for the sun If the sun don't come you get a tan From standing in the English rain

I am the egg man (now good sir) They are the egg men (a poor man, made tame to fortune's blows) I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob (good pity)

Expert, texpert choking smokers Don't you think the joker laughs at you (ho ho ho, hee hee hee, hah hah hah) See how they smile like pigs in a sty, see how they snide I'm crying

Semolina Pilchard Climbing up the Eiffel tower Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe

I am the egg man They are the egg men I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob, goo Joob, joob, jooba Jooba, jooba, jooba Joob, jooba Joob, jooba

Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper (jooba, jooba) Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Slave Thou hast slain me Villain, take my purse If I ever Bury my body The letters which though find'st about me To Edmund Earl of Gloucester Seek him out upon the British Party O untimely death I know thee well A serviceable villain, as duteous to the vices of thy mistress  As badness would desire What, is is he dead? Sit you down, Father, rest you

what if we’re both boys and btw we’re both girls and i’m a boy and you’re a girl and i’m you and we’re me and you were we me she he the are and him

[treyshawn]

this is my band SEMOLINA PILCHARD playing 3 songs when we were still a 3 piece cccchhhheckkkkk itttt out 

[semolinapilchardband]

SEMOLINA PILCHARD at THE HISTORIC RED DOG (Peterborough, Ontario) 

[rockandrollstorytime]

Rock and Roll Storytime #6: The Rolling Stones Against the Establishment (Or: The time 3/5 of them went on trial for drug posession)

Let’s face it, I think every now and again, we all have those moments where we’re glad that we live in the time and place we do at this very moment. This particularly goes out to the musicians, who seem to get in trouble for drugs less frequently nowadays, in favor of worse charges... 

But that wasn’t always so. 

Once upon a time, the threat of rock stars getting long prison sentences for first time offences was very omnipresent, and this story is about that bygone era. A time and a place where even a hint of subversive behavior meant that adults lost their shit and went on literal moral crusades. 

Enter Sgt. Norman Pilcher, or, as John Lennon called him in “I Am the Walrus”, Semolina Pilchard. He was a detective in his 30′s and was dead-set on getting drugs off the streets, which meant that, invariably, he primarily set his sights on rock stars. His list of arrests includes Donovan, John Lennon, George Harrison, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, and Brian Jones. He would’ve nabbed Eric Clapton, but Eric bolted out the back door as soon as he heard there was someone at his doorstep with a “special delivery.”

For now though, we’re just going to focus on the Stones, and how this whole drug trial business may have accelerated the decline of one of its members. 

Given how trying to get rock stars busted for drugs was practically a sport in 1967, the now-defunct tabloid News of the World decided to capitalize on this by publishing a three-part “story” entitled, “Pop Stars and Drugs: Facts That Will Shock You.” In it, the tabloid alleged that many popular musicians of the time were not only doing drugs, but also holding drug parties at their homes, including Donovan, Pete Townshend, and Ginger Baker (R.I.P). Part Two seems to have primarily targeted the Rolling Stones, and it was alleged that Mick Jagger had taken several Benzedrine tablets, displayed a bit of hashish, and invited his companions back to his flat for a smoke, one of whom just so happened to be an undercover reporter. As it turns out, the person in question was actually little Brian Jones, who was being way too casual with his drug use. Mick tried to sue the paper over that one. 

I just want to ask, how the hell did they mix up Mick and Brian? One’s blond and has a cherubic face, and the other’s brunette and has massive lips!

In either case, like with how Donovan was arrested and charged after the first issue came out, the article attracted the attentions of authorities, and in particular, one Semolina Pilchard. News of the World was also more than a little interested in avoiding a major lawsuit, even to the point of allegedly wiretapping and paying off informants (it’s shit like that which is the reason why they ultimately became defunct in 2011, after a phone hacking scandal). Ultimately, on February 12, 1967, eighteen police officers raided Keith Richards’ home, Redlands. Mick, Keith, and an art dealer friend, Robert Fraser were arrested and charged with amphetamine possession, allowing his home to be used for the smoking of cannabis, and heroin possession respectively. 

In addition, salacious rumors started to swirl around that Mick was found eating a Mars Bar out of Marianne Faithfull’s... nether regions. Truth of the matter is, while Marianne was only wearing a fur rug, there weren’t any orgies taking place. She even wrote in her autobiography, “The Mars Bar is a very effective piece of demonizing. It was so overdone with such malicious twisting of the facts. Mick retrieving a Mars Bar from my vagina, indeed! It’s a dirty old man’s fantasy – some old fart who goes to a dominatrix every Thursday. A cop’s idea of what people do on acid.”

Their manager, Andrew Loog Oldham, was supposed to help these kids figure out what to do about the impending drug trials, but instead, he fled to America, leaving his role to Allen Klein (Andrew was fired in September). Lawyers told Mick, Keith, and Brian that, essentially, since they were the most visible of the Rolling Stones, to not talk to the press and even to temporarily leave the country. And so, Mick, Keith, and Brian (bringing along his girlfriend, Anita Pallenberg) set off for Morocco. This is something I’m going to have to go into more detail about another time, but suffice it to say, it ended with Anita leaving Brian for Keith and Brian being stranded in Morocco for about two days. 

On May 10, Mick, Keith, and Robert were marched into court where they were formally charged with the aforementioned charges. Mick and Keith decided to plead not guilty, Robert pled guilty, and all three elected to undergo trial by jury. That same day, twelve officers raided Brian’s home, and though he allegedly tried to clean up the place before the coppers arrived, they still managed to find a “purple Moroccan-style wallet” with cannabis in it. Needless to say, Brian and his friend, Prince Stanislaus “Stash” Klossowski were also arrested and charged with drug possession. On June 2, they were formally charged in court and elected to undergo trial by jury. However, Brian decided to plead guilty, a move that would come back to bite him in the ass later on. 

Starting with Mick, Robert, and Keith’s trial, the odds were against them from the very start. For one thing, the judge they were up against, Judge Leslie Allen Block, was notoriously unforgiving. Given that two of the people on trial were Rolling Stones, it quickly became apparent that the people running the show would very much be gunning for long jail sentences. It can also be argued that, since Pilcher knew what press would come if he made some high-profile celebrity arrests and didn’t arrest anyone with a status lower than Donovan, it could easily be argued that he was only making these arrests to gain some serious cred for his task-force. Going back to the original point though, at one point, as Mick’s trial was wrapping up, the judge even told the jury to dispel any notion of reasonable doubt. 

The last time I wrote this, that sounded seriously ethically dubious, even considering that the usual phrase here would be “innocent until proven guilty” (though it usually plays out the other way around, it seems). Well, I did eventually ask my mom about it (she’s a paralegal and she knows a thing or two about U.S.A. law), and she said that it would depend on the case and if the reasonable doubt presented was excluded by a previous court order. 

Granted, I know that’s dealing with U.S.A. law and that I can’t find anything saying that there was a court order barring reasonable doubt, but I guess that’ll have to do. 

In either case, on June 27, Mick was found guilty of illegally possessing Benzedrine (despite the fact that it was purchased legally in Italy), but because Keith’s trial hadn’t begun yet, Mick and Robert were sent to Lewes Prison overnight. 

Keith’s trial began in earnest the next day, and Keith really didn’t help his case when he said, “We are not old men. We are not worried about petty morals.” However, the trial remained unfinished at the end of the day, so Mick and Robert (who were being held in a cell under the courtroom) were escorted back to Lewes. 

The trial finally came to a close on June 29, and all three of the defendants were summarily sentenced. Mick was sentenced to three months for the aforementioned drug possession charges, Robert was sentenced to six months for heroin possession, and Keith was sentenced to twelve months for allowing cannabis to be smoked in his home. Additionally, all three were fined. Mick was sent to Brixton and Robert and Keith were sent to the notorious Wormwood Scrubs. 

By today’s standards, these would definitely be considered harsh sentences, and might not even happen the same way (I’ll save more of these details for the ending). Back then though, surprisingly, there was actually quite a bit of support for the Stones and not just from fans. Even newspapers that had once viciously mocked them, voiced their support. In fact, William Rees-Mogg, a well-known conservative, wrote an article for The Times called “Who Breaks a Butterfly Upon a Wheel” in which he criticized Mick Jagger’s sentence, essentially saying that the only reason he got three months was because of his being a Rolling Stone, and that had he not been, the consequences would have been much less severe, considering he was a first-time offender. The Who also voiced their support for the Stones, saying “The Who consider Mick Jagger and Keith Richards have been treated as scapegoats for the drug problem and as a protest against the grave sentences imposed on them at Chichester yesterday, The Who are issuing today the first of a series of Jagger-Richards songs to keep their work before the public until they are again free to record themselves.” The New Law Journal wrote, “The three-month prison sentence on Jagger for a first offence, and the introduction at this trial of evidence about a girl in a skin rug are two disturbing features of the case.” Some fans even protested outside News of the World’s headquarters, including Keith Moon’s girlfriend (later wife), Kim Kerrigan. 

However, there were still some sources who agreed with the judge’s decision. In particular, Charles Curran wrote for the Evening News: “I hold that people who break the law ought to be punished. The law that Jagger and Richards broke is not a trifle either. For it seeks to prevent people from using dangerous drugs for fun... Look at Jagger and Richards. Each of them is a millionaire at twenty-three. How does it come about that they are so rich? Their wealth flows from the fact that they are manufactured pieces of wish-fulfillment... Their lives tend to represent, in reality, what their admirers’ are in fantasy. So as long as the pop idol sticks to bawling and wailing- well, we can put up with that. But once he starts to add drugs to his drivel, society must take immediate note of it.”

The next day, Mick and Keith were released on appeal, and went to appeals court on July 31. Years later, Bill Wyman wrote, “The appeal was on five grounds: (1) That the evidence made a cornerstone of the case by the prosecution was wrongly admitted. The evidence of the girl, her dress or undress, was ‘wholly inadmissible’; (2) That if it was held to be admissible, the evidence should have been excluded by the discretion of the judge, because it was so prejudicial; (3) That the chairman misdirected the jury about what the prosecution had to prove as to the meaning of the word ‘permitting’; (4) That he failed to detail the lack of evidence regarding the knowledge of the cannabis drug; (5) That he failed to put fully the defence to the jury.” Keith’s sentence was completely overturned, while Mick was sentenced to a year’s probation, though he wound up spending another night in jail. 

Robert, who ended up serving his full sentence, apparently alleged that everything at Keith’s house that night had been his, and that he’d been taking heroin pills for an upset stomach (sort of like how Kurt Cobain claimed to be on heroin because of a stomach condition that may well have been psychosomatic). 

With Brian’s trial, it is important to note that, as I’ve said, he didn’t really take the affair as seriously as he could have, Also, there’s the fact that Allen Klein, in a misguided attempt at trying to protect Brian, told him to stay away from the other Stones as much as possible, which had the effect of isolating Brian from his band even further at a time where he needed them most. In fact, according to Stash (who was later acquitted), “Brian was not OK within a month of us getting busted. I was at Robert Fraser’s apartment when Brian came in, and, much to my horror, he proceeded to hit about twenty objects, banging into the walls and ricocheting across the room like a ping-pong ball. That was the terrible effect of those downers. He took them because he felt alienated, worried, and it was the only way he could isolate himself into some kind of security blanket. It was a one-way street. He had a disaster written in neon lights all over him and none of us could do anything about it.”

In fact, Brian was in such dire straits, he wound up being admitted to the Priory Clinic for psychiatric analysis on July 5, and was discharged as an out-patient on July 12. When his trial finally came around on October 30, he admitted in court to possessing cannabis without authority, but denied that he’d used cocaine or methedrine. His defense pleaded with the judge not to send him to jail, since he’d taken responsibility for the cannabis (the prosecution was more willing to accept that Brian might not have known about the stronger drugs) and that Brian had a nervous breakdown after the arrest and had suffered greatly. In fact, Detective-Sergeant David Patrick said that, while all drugs were serious, the amount of cannabis found was relatively small, and Brian’s psychiatrist said that his client should be hospitalized rather than imprisoned, and that Brian wouldn’t be able to handle prison. 

However, it all came to naught, as the judge, Reginald Seaton, sentenced Brian to three months in jail for cannabis possession, nine months for allowing his home to be used for smoking cannabis to be served concurrently, and a fine, stating, “I have given your case anxious and careful consideration. The offence of being the occupier of premises and allowing them to be used for the purpose of smoking cannabis resin is very serious indeed. This means that people can break the law in comparative privacy and so avoid detection for what is a growing canker in this country at the present moment. No blame attaches to you for the phial of cocaine, but there are people who come to this sort of party and that is how the rot starts, from cannabis to hard drugs. You occupy a position by which you have a large following of youth, and therefore, it behoves you to set an example... Although I am moved by everything I have heard, I would be failing my duty if I did not refer to the seriousness of the offences by passing sentence of imprisonment.” Brian ended up spending the night in Wormwood Scrubs, where, apparently, guards threatened to cut off the long, blonde hair he was so proud of. 

Looking at pictures of Brian right after his initial arrest and right after his sentencing, the toll that these proceedings took on his physical and mental health becomes quite clear. 

As with Mick and Keith’s sentences, Brian’s conviction caused an uproar. Eight people were arrested as a peaceful protest practically turned into a riot, including Mick’s brother, Chris. In addition, The Daily Sketch wrote, “...dishing out a nine-month sentence is as likely to turn a pop star into a martyr as to deter his fans. Besides, if the Appeal Court later reduces or quashes a harsh sentence, as happened in the case of Jagger, the authority of the law is lessened.” Similarly, The Sun (yes, the same guys who botched their coverage the Hillsborough Disaster and got largely banned from Liverpool) wrote, “Such a sentence, far from convincing young people that cannabis (hemp) is harmful, is too likely to make a martyr of this wretched young man and invest it with false glamour.” 

Brian, though shaken, was released the next day on appeal. What helped his case, though, was when Judge Block made a rather tactless statement: “We did our best, your fellow countrymen, I, and my fellow magistrates, to cut these Stones down to size, but alas, it was not to be, because the Court of Criminal Appeal let them roll free.”

Though Block later claimed he was being sarcastic, Les Perrin issued a statement of his own: “In view of Brian Jones being on bail it seems deplorable that a member of the judiciary should so contravene the normally accepted practice in a case being sub judice, as to joke and poke fun. He made an unprecedented observation both on the trial he conducted at Chichester, and the subsequent findings of the Court of Criminal Appeal. Is this the kind of justice Brian expects? Is this man typical of those who hold the title, the high and esteemed office to try and sentence people? How can the public believe, in the light of this utterance by Judge Block, that the Rolling Stones can get an unbiased hearing? His statement smacks of pre-judgement, a getting-together, ‘to cut the Stones down to size’ because of who they are. It is a pity that he did not observe the ethics of sub judice in a like manner to Mr Jagger, Mr Richards, Mr Jones by remaining silent.”

At the appeal on December 12, Brian’s doctors again said that he had become potentially suicidal as a result of the trial, and its effect on his mental health. When all was said and done, his sentence was reduced to three years’ probation under the condition that he pay a £1,000 fine and that he receive psychiatric help, with the judge saying, “Remember, this is a degree of mercy which the court has shown. It’s not a let-off.”

Later on, Stash would note, “An artist can be hounded into a state in which his mental health will deteriorate and that’s what happened to Brian, I’m sure. I was very angry and blamed the authorities, but ultimately, an individual has to blame himself.”

On December 14, Brian’s chauffeur found him collapsed in his flat and called 999. After an hour, Brian walked out, against doctors’ orders that he should stay overnight. He went straight to the Priory Clinic, and the next day, went in to the dentist to get two teeth pulled due to having a raging toothache. Brian later said that the collapse had been a reaction to the trial. 

And even so, that is not where the story ends, though I honestly wish it did. On May 21, police showed up at Brian’s door again, this time being led by Detective-Sergeant Robin Constable. Once again, police found cannabis, and Brian was utterly distraught, saying such things as “This can’t happen again, just when we’re getting on our feet”, “Why do I always get bugged?”, and “Why do you always have to pick on me?”

Speculation exists to this day that this second search was a carefully orchestrated plant, but whether or not it was will likely never be known for certain.

While the substance was taken away for testing, Brian found himself being dragged to the courthouse shortly before 10 AM. You can probably imagine the press had a field day, and by this point, Brian was completely mentally drained. 

Brian appeared in court on June 11, 1968, where this time, he pled not guilty to the charges of cannabis possession. By this time, there was a new procedure under the Criminal Justice Act, preventing the need for evidence to be given in detail in court (which was a provision that hadn’t been present the first time around). Brian also elected to once again undergo trial by jury. 

Brian’s second trial occurred on September 26, 1968. He was also looking very sickly; his skin was pale, he’d gained weight, and the bags under his eyes were more pronounced now than at any other time in his life. Brian was charged with illegally possessing 144 grains of cannabis, and once again, he entered a plea of not guilty. Brian’s defense was that he’d been staying in the flat that actress Joanna Pettet had moved out of just two hours before while a house that he’d recently purchased was being decorated. Pettet later claimed that she’d left the ball of wool there, but denied any knowledge of the cannabis found inside it. Brian also claimed to have been receiving medical treatment since the last trial, and his doctor said, “Nothing suggested to me that Jones was playing around cannabis. If I put a reefer cigarette by this young man, he would run a mile.”

Chairman Reginald Seaton (the same guy at Brian’s first trial) in his last address to the jury said that the burden of proof should rest with the police, considering that all that was found in Brian’s flat was the cannabis, but no evidence that it had been smoked. Despite this though, the jury returned 45 minutes later to pronounce Brian guilty. Luckily for him, Seaton took pity on him, only giving him a fine, stating, “I think this was a lapse and I don’t want to interfere with the probation order that already applies to this man. I am going to fine you according to your means. You must keep clear of this stuff. You really must watch your step. You will be fined £50 with 100 guineas [£105] costs. For goodness sake, don’t get into trouble again or you really will be in serious trouble.” 

Of this second trial, Brian himself later said, “When the jury announced the guilty verdict, I was sure I was going to jail for at least a year. It was such a wonderful relief when I heard I was only going to be fined. I’m happy to be free. It’s wonderful. This summer has been one long worry to me. Someone planted the drug in my flat, but I don’t know who. I will state till my death that I did not commit this offence.”

The rest, as most would say, is history. Brian continued to spiral out of control, losing interest in the Stones until he was eventually fired on June 8, 1969, and replaced by Mick Taylor. Twenty-five days later, Brian drowned in his backyard swimming pool at the tender age of 27, becoming one of the first members of what would eventually be dubbed the “27 Club.”

I do have a theory that Brian’s death was primarily caused by sleeping pills and alcohol, maybe even some combination of heart failure, liver failure, and/or undiagnosed epilepsy exacerbated by the side-effects of some of the drugs he was allegedly prescribed right before his death, but that, dear readers, is another story. 

Meanwhile, the Stones are still rolling and Mick and Keith are still alive (obviously), the latter of whom celebrated his 76th birthday while I was writing this, by some miracle. 

While I was unable to ascertain whether using one’s home for drug abuse still carried the steep penalties it did in 1967, I was able to find UK law regarding drug possession. Sentencing largely depends on the quantity of the drug and whether or not there was an intent to sell, but amphetamines and cannabis can still land you with a fine and a jail sentence of up to five years. 

If there is a silver lining to be found in this whole mess, Pilcher was eventually found guilty of perjury (though not for possibly planting dope on rock stars), and was himself sentenced to four years in prison for claiming a drug smuggler was innocent and had served with the police (not true in the slightest, as he was actually caught red-handed in the act of selling). 

What can I say? Karma’s a bitch. 

Sources:  https://www.gov.uk/penalties-drug-possession-dealing http://www.timeisonourside.com/chron1968.html http://timeisonourside.com/chron1967.html https://stewarthomesociety.org/blog/archives/1813 https://groovyhistory.com/sgt-pilcher-stories-narc-arrested-mick-jagger-john-lennon-keith-richards-george-harrison https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/inside-allen-kleins-role-in-1967-jagger-richards-drug-bust-43267/ https://wbig.iheart.com/featured/lisa-berigan/content/2017-07-05-rolling-stones-jagger-remembers-drug-arrest/ https://dangerousminds.net/comments/simon_wells_the_great_rolling_stones_drugs_bust https://rulefortytwo.com/secret-rock-knowledge/chapter-11/redlands/ http://www.rockonrockmusic.com/the-redlands-police-raid-jagger-keith-richards-jailed-for-drugs/ http://blog.bathroomwall.com/police-raid-keith-richards-redlands-home-in-sussex-for-drugs/ https://www.nme.com/photos/the-great-rolling-stones-drug-bust-1402298 Faithfull: An Autobiography by Marianne Faithfull Stone Alone by Bill Wyman Life by Keith Richards Brian Jones: The Untold Life and Mysterious Death of a Legend by Laura Jackson Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones by Paul Trynka https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norman_Pilcher https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Fraser_(art_dealer)

[emulateharry]

Expert texpert choking smoker don’t you think the joker laughs at you (ho ho ho hee hee hee ha ha ha)

[longforyesterday]

According to Pete Shotton, the final catalyst [for the creation of I Am The Walrus] was a letter received from a pupil of Quarry Bank School, which mentioned that an English master was getting his class to analyse Beatles’ songs. This amused John, who decided to confuse such people with a song full of the most perplexing and incoherent clues. He asked Shotton to remind him of a silly playground rhyme which English schoolchildren at the time delighted in. John wrote it down: ‘Yellow matter custard, green slop pie, All mixed together with a dead dog’s eye, Slap it on a butty, ten foot thick, Then wash it all down with a cup of cold sick’. John proceeded to invent some ludicrous images (‘semolina pilchards, elementary penguins’) and nonsense words (‘texpert, crabalocker’), before adding some opening lines he’d written down during an acid trip. He then strung these together with the three unfinished songs he’d already shown Hunter Davies. “Let the fuckers work that one out”, he apparently said to Shotton when he’d finished. Asked by Playboy to explain ‘Walrus’ some 13 years later, he remarked that he thought Dylan got away with murder attimes and that he’d decided “I can write this crap too.” The only serious part of the lyric, apparently, was the opening line with its vision of the unity behind all things.

Steve Turner, The Beatles - The Stories Behind The Songs (1967-1970)

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

for the fav lyrics.. I am the walrus, she came in through the bathroom window, and happiness is a warm gun :)

Ohhhhhh some Weirdo Songs, thanks Grace!!!!!

I Am The Walrus: literally think the assonances and rhyming in "Mister City, p'liceman sitting, pretty little p'liceman in a row" sounds soooooooo good! Also honorary mention to "Semolina Pilchard" because John referencing that abandoned musical/play he and Paul wrote four pages for in 63 is *chef's kiss* honestly.

She Came In Through The Bathroom Window: "She could steal but she could not rob", lowkey love this Genius explanation that is 100% more thought-through than the original line was intended but I enjoy the inherent head-scratcherness of it :)

Happiness Is A Warm Gun: this one's so hard actually even though I love this song? The lyrics are like not the point in a way lmao, but I always find the line "She's well-acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand like a lizard on a window pane" kind of delightful in its bizarreness and notably how like… unsexy it is? Sidenote: John was exquisitely bad at making JohnandYoko seem normal and it's kind of hilarious. (See: "Like a UFO you came to me" in Out The Blue, way to make your wife sound like an abducting alien)

[sweetlilpaulie]

Song of the day.

Lyrics:

I am he as you are he as you are me And we are all together See how they run like pigs from a gun See how they fly I'm crying

Sitting on a corn flake Waiting for the van to come Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday Man you've been a naughty boy You let your face grow long

I am the egg man They are the egg men I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob

Mister City policeman sitting Pretty little policemen in a row See how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run I'm crying, I'm crying I'm crying, I'm crying

Yellow matter custard Dripping from a dead dog's eye Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess Boy, you've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down

I am the egg man They are the egg men I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob

Sitting in an English garden Waiting for the sun If the sun don't come you get a tan From standing in the English rain

I am the egg man (now good sir) They are the egg men (a poor man, made tame to fortune's blows) I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob (good pity)

Expert, texpert choking smokers Don't you think the joker laughs at you (ho ho ho, hee hee hee, hah hah hah) See how they smile like pigs in a sty, see how they snide I'm crying

Semolina Pilchard Climbing up the Eiffel tower Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe

I am the egg man They are the egg men I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob, goo Joob, joob, jooba Jooba, jooba, jooba Joob, jooba Joob, jooba

Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper (jooba, jooba) Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa) Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper) Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Slave Thou hast slain me Villain, take my purse If I ever Bury my body The letters which though find'st about me To Edmund Earl of Gloucester Seek him out upon the British Party O untimely death I know thee well A serviceable villain, as duteous to the vices of thy mistress As badness would desire What, is is he dead? Sit you down, Father, rest you.

~~~

Some people find this song too strange for their tastes.

I personally love it.

Enjoy.

[artistjojo1228]

Rock and Roll Storytime #6: The Rolling Stones Against the Establishment (i.e. Drug Trials)

Let’s face it, I think most of us are prone to that moment or two where we can’t help but think about how lucky we are to be alive right now. Most rock stars in particular probably aren’t nearly as worried about the potential of being arrested for drug possession (nowadays, I’m hearing about more rockers being arrested for far more serious crimes). Yes, even with the somewhat-accepted notion that rock stars are prone to doing drugs (”sex, drugs, and rock and roll,” after all), it still happens, but in the 1960′s, there was an even greater chance of that, especially since rock and roll was still fairly new, and some moral guardians were in an uproar about it.  Because *of course*, anything new and exciting must be “corrupting” the youths, right?

Enter Sgt. Norman Pilcher (or, as John Lennon called him “Semolina Pilchard”), one of the ass-hats I partially blame for Brian Jones’ downfall (even if Brian, himself, set the ball rolling). He was a detective in his 30′s and was just about dead-set on sending a bunch of rockers to prison for something as *awful* as drug abuse (throughout, I’m just going to start using asterisks to denote my sarcasm). Even though, of course, these guys were often doing drugs in the privacy of their own homes and not harming anyone. Among the list of those he arrested were John Lennon, George Harrison, Mick Jagger, Brian Jones, and Keith Richards. He almost nabbed Eric Clapton, but Eric bolted out the back door once he realized Sgt. Pilcher was at his doorstep. 

This article is, primarily, about the Rolling Stones, and how the ensuing drug trials may have led to one being found motionless at the bottom of a pool just two years later. 

So, in 1967, it was practically a sport to see if someone in the Establishment could get a rock star busted for using drugs. In January, the tabloid, News of the World (defunct since 2011, thanks to a phone-hacking scandal), published a three-part story entitled "Pop Stars and Drugs: Facts That Will Shock You". In it, there were many allegations against pop stars supposedly using drugs and hosting drug parties at their residences, including Donovan, Pete Townshend and Ginger Baker. Part Two was all about the Rolling Stones. At one point in the article, it was alleged that Mick Jagger had taken several Benzedrine tablets, displayed a bit of hashish, and invited his companions over to his flat for a smoke (one of whom happened to be an undercover reporter). Turns out, that was just Brian Jones being a little careless about who he was talking to about drug use. Mick tried to sue the paper over that one. 

Quick aside, how the hell do they mess up Brian Jones and Mick Jagger?! Like, Brian’s blond and baby-faced and Mick has brunette hair and big-ass lips!

Either way, this attracted the attentions of Semolina Pilchard, News of the World was more than a little eager to discredit Mick and avoid a huge lawsuit, and on February 12, 1967, eighteen police officers raided Keith Richards’ home, Redlands. Mick was charged with drug possession after four amphetamines were found in his possession (he and Marianne had bought them in Italy, where they were perfectly legal). Robert Fraser, an art dealer who was friends with the Stones, was charged with having heroin in his possession. And Keith was charged with allowing his premises to be used for the smoking of cannabis. 

Stupid 1965 Dangerous Drugs Act...

Their manager, Andrew Loog Oldham, was supposed to help them figure out what to do, but instead, the slimy bastard fled to the United States of America and his role fell to Allen Klein. Lawyers told Mick, Keith, and Brian that it’d probably be best if they got out of the country for a while, so, Mick, Keith, Brian, and Brian’s girlfriend, Anita Pallenberg, all made their way down to Morocco. It was there that Brian and Anita’s relationship came to a messy end when she left him for Keith, and Brian was left stranded in Morocco for two days, which is all a story I’d *love* to tell in more detail some other time. 

On May 10, 1967, Mick, Keith, and Robert were formally charged with various drug possession charges. At the exact same time, Brian’s flat on Courtfield Road (since demolished) was raided by police. Reportedly, Brian had cleaned up his flat in preparation for police arrival, but the police still managed to find a purple Moroccan-style wallet with cannabis in it. Brian and Prince Stanislaus “Stash”  Klossowski (the latter of whom was later acquitted) were formally charged with cannabis possession on June 2, 1967 and elected to undergo trial by jury,

Mick, Robert, and Keith decided to undergo jury trials. Of course it went pear-shaped, I mean, this is the Establishment we’re talking about. If you don’t believe me, just take into account that the judge, Leslie Kenneth Allen Block, was unforgiving, and he practically reveled in the thought of sending a member or two of the Rolling Stones to prison. He even told the jury to dispel any reasonable doubt the defense had injected into the case, which, to me, seems pretty damn unethical, whether we’re talking about US courts or UK courts. Robert plead guilty, but Mick and Keith plead not guilty. On June 27 1967, Mick was found guilty of Benzedrine possession. He and Robert spent the night at Lewes Prison. 

Two days later, Keith was found guilty of allowing his home to be used for cannabis smoking. It was then that he, Mick, and Robert (the latter two had been held in confinement until Keith’s trial was over) were sentenced. Mick got three months in prison, Robert got six months, and Keith got a year. In addition, all three were fined. In case it wasn’t obvious enough, the sentences were extraordinarily harsh (and you can probably see why this whole affair pisses me off). Mick and Robert were to serve their sentences in Lewes, while Keith was sent to the notorious Wormwood Scrubs. 

Now, for some of you, it may be obvious that Mick and Keith didn’t serve their full sentences, but what may surprise you is that national newspapers, once all too happy to pounce on the opportunity to make fun of the Rolling Stones, now sprang to Mick and Keith’s defense. In particular, conservative William Rees-Mogg wrote an editorial, Who Breaks a Butterfly Upon a Wheel?, in which he criticized Mick’s sentence in particular. Soon after, Mick and Keith were released, awaiting appeal, and on July 31, 1967, Keith’s conviction was overturned entirely, citing circumstantial evidence, whilst Mick’s sentence was downgraded to a year’s probation.

So, that’s one part of the story that ends well, but what about Brian? Well, first and foremost, he didn’t take the whole affair as seriously as he could have, and was even the one Stone to plead guilty, against the advice of his lawyer and friends alike, and as a result from the proceedings as a whole (thanks a *bunch* Allen Klein), Brian became more isolated from the Rolling Stones than ever before. And keep in mind, just five years before, he was the one who put the ad in the papers and brought the guys together in the first place. On October 30, 1967, he went on trial, was found guilty, and was fined and sentenced to nine months for allowing his premises to be used for smoking cannabis and a further three months for cannabis possession to be served concurrently (though for some reason, some sources only list nine months). 

Also, as a fan of Brian, I must leave photos/video from around this time because, he just looks so... broken after being sentenced to a year in prison.

Compare that with pictures of him earlier the same year: 

Need I say more?

The next day, Brian was released on bail, awaiting appeal. Helping his case was when Judge Block was caught lamenting the fact that the Stones had won appeal/were waiting appeal. Though he claimed his remarks had been sarcastic, it must have seemed to the public (if only the anti-establishment kids) that there truly were ulterior motives for the trials. On December 12, 1967, Brian went back to court for appeal. His defense argued that he had become suicidal and wouldn’t fare well in prison. The judge tossed out Brian’s prison sentence in lieu of three years’ probation, but upheld the fine and ordered that Brian get professional help. 

The next day, he was found unconscious in his apartment after apparent drug and alcohol overuse and was driven to the hospital. He subsequently went to the Priory Clinic. 

Sadly, this would not be the last time Brian wound up in court on drug charges. On May 21, 1968, Brian was arrested for the second time after his home was raided and police, led by Sgt. Robin Constable, found a ball of wool that contained cannabis resin. According to some accounts, Brian had been trying to get clean, and when police found the ball of wool, he became distraught. Given that the media had already been alerted, there is almost no doubt in my mind that the evidence had been planted. This time though, Brian fought back, if only by pleading not guilty. The trial took place on September 26, 1968. Although Brian’s case was built on circumstantial evidence at best, he was still found guilty, by a court system that seemed out for his blood (especially since he seemed the most vulnerable of the Stones). However, the judge, Reginald Seaton, was much more fair than Block, and he said, “I am going to treat you as I would any other young man before this court. I am going to fine you, and I will fine you relative to your means:  £50 with 100 guinea costs... but you really must watch your step and stay clear of this stuff. For goodness’ sake do not get into trouble again.”

In my very loose style of paraphrasing: “Look, it’s obvious that you’re innocent, but the jury really wants to see you found guilty, so I’m just going to fine you, but for the love of God, don’t end up in court again. It won’t end well.”

Even so, the trials had very clearly taken their effect on Brian: 

The rest, as they say, is history. In June 1969, Brian was fired because his convictions left him unable to get a work visa in the US, and less than a month later, Brian drowned under mysterious circumstances. 

I did say earlier that I essentially believed that Brian’s drug trials led to his early demise in a way. Well, I guess it’s high time I explained that. See, I’ve read the toxicology report, which stated that Brian had 1720 micro-gms of an “amphetamine-like substance” in his system, which the coroner speculated was Mandrax, which had been prescribed to Brian in the months leading up to his death. Mandrax was the brand name for methaqualone, aka quaaludes, and once upon a time, before people realized that they were addictive, they were prescribed for anxiety and insomnia. According to some stories, Brian had been trying to get clean around the time of his death, but it is my honest belief that Brian relapsed the night he drowned, and may have had too many sleeping pills, the effects of which would not have been helped by the fact he’d been drinking that night (approx. 3.5 pints of beer). 

All of which I should probably explain in more detail another day. 

As for Sgt. Pilcher? He was eventually found guilty of perjury (unrelated to possibly planting dope on rock stars) and sentenced to four years in prison. 

Thank God for that. 

Sources: https://groovyhistory.com/sgt-pilcher-stories-narc-arrested-mick-jagger-john-lennon-keith-richards-george-harrison Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones by Paul Trynka Stone Alone: The Story of a Rock’n’Roll Band by Bill Wyman http://timeisonourside.com/chron1967.html https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/inside-allen-kleins-role-in-1967-jagger-richards-drug-bust-43267/ http://www.timeisonourside.com/chron1968.html https://www.nme.com/photos/the-great-rolling-stones-drug-bust-1402298 https://dangerousminds.net/comments/simon_wells_the_great_rolling_stones_drugs_bust https://www.theguardian.com/theguardian/2010/may/11/archive-rolling-stones-on-drug-charges-1967

[rotcivnasrabb]

THE BEATLES ~ I AM THE WALRUS

(circa 1967)

I am he as you are he as you are me

And we are all together

See how they run like pigs from a gun

See how they fly

I'm crying

Sitting on a corn flake

Waiting for the van to come

Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday

Man you've been a naughty boy

You let your face grow long

I am the egg man

They are the egg men

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob

Mister City policeman sitting

Pretty little policemen in a row

See how they fly like Lucy in the sky, see how they run

I'm crying, I'm crying

I'm crying, I'm crying

Yellow matter custard

Dripping from a dead dog's eye

Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess

Boy, you've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down

I am the egg man

They are the egg men

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob

Sitting in an English garden

Waiting for the sun

If the sun don't come you get a tan

From standing in the English rain

I am the egg man (now good sir)

They are the egg men (a poor man, made tame to fortune's blows)

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob (good pity)

Expert, texpert choking smokers

Don't you think the joker laughs at you (ho ho ho, hee hee hee, hah hah hah)

See how they smile like pigs in a sty, see how they snide

I'm crying

Semolina Pilchard

Climbing up the Eiffel tower

Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna

Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe

I am the egg man

They are the egg men

I am the walrus

Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob

Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob, goo

Joob, joob, jooba

Jooba, jooba, jooba

Joob, jooba

Joob, jooba

Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper (jooba, jooba)

Umpa, umpa, stick it up your jumper

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

Everybody's got one (stick it up your jumper)

Everybody's got one (umpa, umpa)

vgb

Slave

Thou hast slain me

Villain, take my purse

If I ever

Bury my body

The letters which though find'st about me

To Edmund Earl of Gloucester

Seek him out upon the British Party

O untimely death

I know thee well

A serviceable villain, as duteous to the vices of thy mistress

As badness would desire

What, is is he dead?

Sit you down, Father, rest you

[sgtsavoytruffle]

The Beatles ~ Expert, texpert, choking smokers, don't you think the Joker laughs at you? See how they laugh like pigs in a sty, see how they snide. I'm crying. Semolina Pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel tower. Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna. Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe. I am the egg man. They are the egg men. I Am The Walrus ~

[alentini]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Antonio Lentini (@antonio.lentini.roma)

I am he as you are he as you are me And we are all together See how they run like pigs from a gun See how they fly I'm crying Sitting on a corn flake Waiting for the van to come Corporation T-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday Man you've been a naughty boy You let your face grow long I am the egg man They are the egg men I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob Mr. City policeman sitting Pretty little policemen in a row See how they fly like Lucy in the sky See how they run I'm crying I'm crying, I'm crying, I'm crying Yellow matter custard Dripping from a dead dog's eye Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess Boy, you've been a naughty girl You let your knickers down I am the egg man They are the egg men I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob Sitting in an English garden Waiting for the sun If the sun don't come you get a tan From standing in the English rain I am the egg man (How do you do sir?) They are the egg men (The man maintains a fortune) I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob Expert, texpert choking smokers Don't you think the joker laughs at you (Ho ho ho, hee hee hee, hah hah hah) See how they smile like pigs in a sty See how they snide I'm crying Semolina Pilchard Climbing up the Eiffel tower Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe I am the egg man They are the egg men I am the walrus Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob Goo goo g'joob, goo goo goo g'joob, goo goo . . . . . #poetry #writersofinstagram #quotes #poetrycommunity #poem #writing #scrittori #poetsofinstagram #writer #poet #quote #writersofig #poems #word #quoteoftheday #lovequotes #thoughts #poetryisnotdead #quotestagram #poets #writerscommunity #poesie #wordsofwisdom #inspirationalquotes #instapoet #poetsofig #poesia https://www.instagram.com/p/B4QQ8U1oLCQ/?igshid=squ5dw2gnzve

[semolinapilchardband]

here’s us doing a 3 song Cold Tea Session chhhhheckkk itttttt out !!!