DF 52 - Turmoil in the fourth estate - I love it! (July 2011)
A publication that earned its living from titillation, at the same time delighting in the exposure of those caught with their trousers round their ankles whilst succumbing to titillation, has folded after a hundred and fifty years. This is much to the glee of politicians; all of whom have suffered from press exposure due to the Newtonian consequences of overladen pockets.
It's time for Rebekah Brooks to go, says Colonel Gaddafi. (In a Daily Telegraph, cartoon Sat 09/07/11, by BoB)…Brilliant!
The pages of our English newspapers are reaming with vitriol and self-serving approbation at a time when I'm almost converted to the idea of deforestation; in the sense that less trees might help our elegant scribes to see the wood.
The cartoon I mentioned is more articulate and yet succinct than all the words about the nudes of the world; a famous rag that has died suddenly from the effects of previous excesses.
Sometimes words are inadequate.
It brings to mind the piece of music composed by Steve Morse on the morning of Saturday the First of February 2003.
We - Deep Purple - were quite involved with the Columbia mission as one of the crew - Kalpana Chawla - had informed us that she wanted to use Space Truckin' as her wake-up music. That's pretty cool isn't it.
Below I've copied some of our Email from Earth to Shuttle. If you want more go to the basement archives of Caramba.
We are all familiar with the outcome of that flight, so let me draw you in.
Because of the connection we were avidly glued to our TVs, waiting for the landing, at breakfast-time in our contiguous apartments someplace near the studio.
As the disaster unfolded we saw the bright objects in the sky that were the remains of STS 107 descending like fairy lights and we saw the ghastly faces in the control room at headquarters.
In the habit of going in early to work; I drove like a zombie that morning.
All dead, how could I concentrate on the work in hand.
In walked our aviator Steve, grim faced.
We embraced briefly and mumbled words.
He went straight into the studio and started to play.
The result was Contact Lost.
As I heard and watched Steve's heartfelt love and wretched pain being poured into his only outlet, his instrument - his guitar, I realised that this melody was more lyrical than anything I could possibly have written in words.
Contact Lost paints a masterpiece of glorious tribute. The beginning gives hope for all whilst the descending notes illustrate the final fragmentation; they cascade with dignity and respect.
My feelings could find no words.
This was received from Kalpana, in a reply to an email from Ian (published below), shortly before Columbia was lost:
Dear Ian and Gang,
Thanks so much for your message. Finally, we have our space legs and we are enjoying the axes transitions, the magnificent views, and the work.
Best to you all.
(reproduced with permission from JP Harrison)
Hello Kalpana and fellow Space Truckers,
We have been following your progress as closely as possible from our recording studio in Los Angeles.
Being aware of you whizzing around up there has added an extra dimension to the fizz in the air down here; I'll make sure you get the first copies of the resulting CD.
Continuing success on your mission, with best regards from all of us in Deep Purple and also the Caramba Team,
Copyright © Ian Gillan 2011