Friday 6 February 2015

SWEET LITTLE FOURTEEN.

I wonder if Bill Wyman, like Mr Glitter, must be nicked by the Vietnamese police before our own Old Bill is emboldened enough to feel his collar.
 
I now pronounce you man and child;
you may kiss the child.

It is not disputed that Wyman raped Mandy Smith when she was 14 and he was in his forties.  The Rolling Stones, of course, are a national treasure and any investigation of Wyman might  lead to scrutiny of Sir Mick Jagger, 

knighted by Tony and Imelda, 
despite Brenda's objections

of Mr Keith Richards or of that other romancer of young women, wotsisname, the painter.

Painter Ron, with his 18 year-old lover.

The Rolling Stones are not a clapped-out old  novelty act, like Glitter but are nothing less than the greatest rock'n'roll band in the world,
 
although, if you believe that,
you'll believe anything

 academics and critics fawn on them, they receive their fan mail, often, between hard covers; just recently, the PBC's smug arty-fart, Andrew Graham-Dixon, 
 
Sir Keef, like myself, you are quintessentially a Renaissance man....

nearly wet himself, genuflecting  in an interview granted him by drug-raddled nincompoop, 
 
Uuuuugggh, like, what can I say, man, 
uuuuugggh, it's, like, you know, 
the blues,  man. Yeah?

Richards, rather as PBC folk used 
to  display  y'know, like, just massive respect for Sir Jimmy Savile, massive, you know, he's done so much for charity, massive respect.

It doesn't matter that Mandy Smith said she consented to Wyman raping her, she couldn't consent and Wyman should have been nicked and jailed. Bill has since boasted that he asked the cops if they wanted to talk to him about raping a child
and they said No. As usual.
 
No wonder he's grinning like a dirty old man.

Has  anyone now in Operation Nonce the courage to tackle the Establishments in-house bad boys?


In next week's Sweet Little Fourteen: 
Whole Lotta Fish.

How, when Led Zeppelin were inserting fish and vegetables and whips into teenage fans they wouldn't dream of doing it unless they had first scrupulously examined the girls' birth certificates. 'Snot as though they were degenerates, now, is it?  

Led Zeppelin's screecher,
Robbie Plant, 
then
 
and now.






The baubles of the Beast.



17 comments:

lilith said...

Things were different back then, children were less infantilised. In the mid seventies at 14/15 my best mate and I would work our way through a packet of b & h locked in a back loo after midnight, (boarding school) plotting who we would seduce in the summer, who'd be the lucky guy to deal with this irritating virginity nonsense.

call me ishmael said...

The law wasn't any different, back then, just attitudes to showbiz; the age of consent was still sixteen and children could not give consent, not even to their Satanic Majesties. A duty of care binds us all, otherwise we're all fucked, not just hormone-crazed schoolgirls.

And I do recall, anyway, ms lilith, your view on Mr Wood and his teenager - who was legal - that the age and power imbalance made it noncing.

Be all that as it may, Glitter faces life inside for similar, ancient offences, committed back in the day, why not Wyman?

He's obviously a headcase, what sort of a grown man would keep a notebook detailing his thousand groupie conquests? Time the cops had a look at it.

And as for Plant and Page, well, Plant could sweetly sing the Lord's Prayer with Alison Kraus from here to Eternity and he'd still be filth. Not to mention a shameless plagiarist, although the Steve Marriott story must await another time, another Evensong.

Mike said...

Glitter, Rolf, Dave Lee - they're from the wrong side of the tracks, not really cool, not in an establishment intellectual sense.

call me ishmael said...

That's just what I mean, mr mike. And it's not just in an establishment intellectual sense, the entire trashy Kultura - of fashion and film and shitwriting, it all claims descent from - and ownership of - the Beatles and the Stones and the 'Oo and Bob Dylan; what if it emerged that these bloated demigods were filthy child molesters all along?

Temple walls would crumble.

mongoose said...

It is not any worse just because the nonce has a name. In fact, might it not be worse - for the victim that is - if the noncing is of the Rotherham variety? The whole fucking town at it? Or at least the whole power structure thereof facilitating. What the fuck anyway is grooming if it is not the preparation of a whole bastard demographic generation? Why I bet that they all live in wireless ghettoes, bussed in and out, fed and nurtured for the slaughter yard.

call me ishmael said...

Gotta serve somebody, mr mongoose, gotta start somewhere; Wyman and his gang, that'd be a good start, go for the money.

lilith said...

You are right of course Mr Smith about the age/status differential and noncing. And perhaps our victims in crime should have said no, but they were young and hormonal too. Hormones are what they are. They still make me do odd things like cry when I read about the massacres in France.

lilith said...

Jesus, talking of noncing and hormones, we've been looking after a puppy who decided to have her first season and peak Christmas week. We had to have her in a puppy Guantanamo style set up and take Pig to the pub. A lot. His eyes were spinning in his head poor boy.

Anonymous said...

Think we may have noted here before how in the Delta Blues a "back door man" meant a guy too smart to work the fields (ie probably a musician) who'd be free in daytime to come a-softly-knockin round the back where nobody would see him nipping in for the Mississippi version of a cinq a sept...when the sixties whiteboy retreads got hold of the idiom, "back door man" morphed into up the ass, baby, and don't forget to say thankyou daddy...it's a moot point but I wonder which came first, the rockstars or the porn flicks, with their insatiable, nihilistic appetite for heterosexual sodomy. (While we're at it we must add M.Polanski to the list; you not on ze pill, bebe? OK, we go in here instead...)

verge.//

call me ishmael said...

Or Stick my knife right down your throat, from the Stones' Midnight Rambler; the fellating or cunnilingual tongue of their logo; the S&M thread running through their albums - a whole iconography not of the gloriously carnal but of the disturbingly abusive. Where the Delta Bluester complained of others Diggin' my potatoes, tramplin' on my vine or boasting that his candy don't melt away, it just gets better, so the ladies say, the white cockrocker sang, as you say, I wanna be your backdoor man and gonna give ya every incha my love, prancing, ridiculously, fringed and bare-chested, like a camp Nijinsky.

I was always uneasy about that stuff and apart from Mick Taylor's peerless playing, shunned most of it. Zeppelin, like most people in their own business, even, I despised for their plagiarism as well as their stagey Satanism and their showy priapism. In the light of what we now see, mr verge, alluded to in your final query, we should damn them, for their incubation of the plague of buggery and beating. vices once, now habits. Up against the wall, motherfuckers

call me ishmael said...

First thing happened to Harris, ms lilith, was a trip to the Vetbastard's. He'd come from a home shared with a bitch in heat, which I considered dog abuse, poor lad, he stank like a sewer filled with testosterone; he's much better now, tell Pig, much better.

As to hormonal storm, I think that when philosophers talk about the conflict between head and heart, they mean head and cock. Didn't the late Maestro Martyn have something to say on the matter, when he wasn't busy punishing himself?

SG said...

Yes those ageing beasts should be brought to book & those that looked the other way even more so. However I am more concerned with what is happening now. The Rotherham taxi driver set and the head choppers & cage burners returning to our midst from the Caliphate where it is not just 'OK' but 'good' to 'marry' girls as young as nine years old. The beast in me, if I let him out, would be browsing Foxes' book to select suitable means by which they may achieve 'Martyrdom' - the 'saw' particularly appeals.

call me ishmael said...

Your beast would, judiciously, start his sawing with Thatcher, Tebbit, Brittain, Morrison continue through Cyril Smith, David Steel, Paddy Pantsdown, Straight Simon Hughes, David Laws, Chris Huhne and onwards to Liam Fox, William Hague to Jack Straw, Gordon Snot, Tony and Imelda, Big Al Campbell and Mandelstein, the Hindujahs, Ecclestone, Abrahams and to Cameron, Brooks, Coulson and Murdoch; if you add a few chief constables, councillors, newspaper editors, local and national, if he took all their heads it would then be the time to chase Ahmed round Yorkshire.

Rotherham is a useful sideshow, like Hutton, Chilcott, Leveson and now this Kiwi bint; nobody in MediaMinster gives a fuck about some poor Northern scrubbers, never have, never will. Bread, mr sg, and circuses. The Palace of Westminster is the biggest and oldest childsex market in the country, and the place to start.

SG said...

Yes, Mr I, there is much work for him to do but fortunately, perhaps, I keep him chained like Prometheus. We must therefore rely (for all its inadequacies, inefficiencies and imperfections) upon our ancient, creaking and clanking machinery of law to deal with these matters. Justice will not reach all who deserve it but some will be done - though the rich and powerful invariably escape as, I think, you imply. I don't agree that Rotherham is a sideshow - its not even the quarter of it, let alone the half...

yardarm said...

You`ll have seen, Mr Ishmael Theresa May had to get a Nonce Finder General in from New Zealand, she practically fell off the fucking planet, any further and she`d have had to get in some penquin counter from Antarctica.

An admittance that the British legal establishment is rotten with beasts or concealers of.

call me ishmael said...

She has no shame, Tracey, none at all. And MediaMinster thunderingly silent about the fact that no-one dare appoint someone from within the country, it must be that those who would be chosen are laughably rotten like the baggage, Woolf and would not stand scrutiny and those who might have a go, peope like Mansfield, scare the shit out of our masters.

Doesn't have to even be a lawyer, of course, to run this, as long as there was legal advice available; just needs someone decent and smart. Do we really need to go Down Under, to find such?

Filth, May. filth.

Mike said...

The report I read about her appointment said the timescale would be extended pre-1970, it would be an in-depth forensic examination of all the evidence, and "take a long time to conclude".

Long grass don't get any longer than this.