With this week’s Uborka Artist in Residence, Ray Davies.

Dirty old river, must you keep rolling
Flowing into the night
People so busy, makes me feel dizzy
Taxi light shines so bright
But I don’t need no friends
As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset
I am in paradise

Every day I look at the world from my window
But chilly, chilly is the evening time
Waterloo sunset’s fine

Terry meets Julie, Waterloo Station
Every Friday night
But I am so lazy, don’t want to wander
I stay at home at night
But I don’t feel afraid
As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset
I am in paradise

Every day I look at the world from my window
But chilly, chilly is the evening time
Waterloo sunset’s fine

Millions of people swarming like flies ’round Waterloo underground
But Terry and Julie cross over the river
Where they feel safe and sound
And the don’t need no friends
As long as they gaze on Waterloo sunset
They are in paradise

Waterloo sunset’s fine

Doctor Pockless: I would like to say that we are looking at poet Ray Davies’ Waterloo Sunset by popular demand, but it’s more a case of the gauntlet having been thrown down. It wasn’t on the curriculum for this week’s open forum with Mr. Davies, but we are nothing if not flexible (except, perhaps a little stiff*). It is, however, as Professor Vaughan Simons once noted in his highly-autobiographical study of popular music “not only the greatest Ray Davies song, but simply one of the greatest songs ever.” Like Dedicated Follower of Fashion, the subject of yesterday’s discussion, Waterloo Sunset is yet another of Davies’ rousing songs about great military strategy. Mr. Davies, sir, would you care to elaborate?
Ray Davies: The Battle of Waterloo was fought between the French, under the command of Napoleon Bonaparte, and the Allied armies commanded by Britain’s Duke of Wellington and Prussia’s General Blücher. With those Prussians on our side we couldn’t help but give them the thrashing they deserved following 23 years of argy-bargy which had all kicked off with the French Revolutionary wars of 1792.
Doctor Pockless: I haven’t previously given this poem the attention it deserves, but would I be right in thinking that the Terry and Julie of the final stanza are the Duke of Wellington and General Blücher?
Ray Davies: That’s right. The battling duo were popularly known as Terry Welly and General Julie. The river, in this case, was the English Channel, which as everyone knowns’ then stretched right round the southern tip of the African subcontinent. Global warming has, however, since evaporated much of the British empire.
Doctor Pockless: So, the British empire would be the paradise to which you refer in the opening stanza?
Ray Davies: That’s right. The “people so busy” represent foriegn trade, whilst the “taxi lights” are, of course, cannon fire.
Doctor Pockless: Ray, it’s simply genius. I’m glad we included this song in our discussion – it’s work like this that gives fuel to the argument that you should be Poet Laureate.
Ray Davies: Quite.
Doctor Pockless: “Millions of people swarming like flies ’round Waterloo underground” – I cannot think of a more fitting homage to the millions of dead strewn across the battlefields of Europe. In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve come over a little tearful.
Ray Davies: You big girl’s blouse.

*Snort.

Oh, Doctor Pockless! Doctor Pockless! I see your Lola and your Dedicated Follower of Fashion, and raise you Waterloo Sunset – not only the greatest Ray Davies song, but simply one of the greatest songs ever.
Of course, I would say that – since I used to spend many happy hours standing on the old Hungerford Bridge (it’s crucial that it was the old bridge – one long slab of concrete and the rusty red railings – rather than the shiny new one), looking out over the Thames and humming that song to myself.
It was best in autumn, of course. Autumn sunsets on the Thames, the lyrics of Waterloo Sunset on the tip of my tongue.
I know that the Hungerford Bridge is probably closer to Embankment rather than Waterloo, but somehow Embankment Sunset doesn’t sound nearly as good.
The one time I saw Ray Davies live, he actually forgot the lyrics to Waterloo Sunset. I should have been mortified, but it only added to the song’s charms. I defy anyone not to let a tear slip from the corner of their eye when listening to this song.
Oh, wait a minute . . . I don’t think these are the kinds of kinks that everybody wants to read about. Damn. But I’m so pure and innocent, I have nothing else to say. OK, I have a thing about vicars – will that do?

With this week’s Uborka Artist in Residence, Ray Davies.

They seek him here, they seek him there,
His clothes are loud, but never square.
It will make or break him so he’s got to buy the best,
’cause he’s a dedicated follower of fashion.

And when he does his little rounds,
’round the boutiques of london town,
Eagerly pursuing all the latest fads and trends,
’cause he’s a dedicated follower of fashion.

Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
He thinks he is a flower to be looked at,
And when he pulls his frilly nylon panties right up tight,
He feels a dedicated follower of fashion.

Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
There’s one thing that he loves and that is flattery.
One week he’s in polka-dots, the next week he is in stripes.
’cause he’s a dedicated follower of fashion.

They seek him here, they seek him there,
In regent street and leicester square.
Everywhere the carnabetian army marches on,
Each one an dedicated follower of fashion.

Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
His world is built ’round discoteques and parties.
This pleasure-seeking individual always looks his best
’cause he’s a dedicated follower of fashion.

Oh yes he is (oh yes he is), oh yes he is (oh yes he is).
He flits from shop to shop just like a butterfly.
In matters of the cloth he is as fickle as can be,
’cause he’s a dedicated follower of fashion.
He’s a dedicated follower of fashion.
He’s a dedicated follower of fashion.

Doctor Pockless: Welcome back readers. Today I’ll be asking Mr. Ray Davies to explain the origin of the Carnabetian Army.
Ray Davies: Hello.
Doctor Pockless: Hello, Ray. Tell us, what on Earth is the Carnabetian army?
Ray Davies: In order to understand the Carnabetian Army we must go back to the time of Hannibal, the Carthaginian general, and leader of the famous march by Elephant across the Alps. The Carnabetians were the sworn enemies of Carthage who lived in the Carnabetia region to the North.
Doctor Pockless: Are we then to suppose that the “dedicated follower of fashion” of this poem’s title is in fact Alexander, King of Carnabetia, or Hannibal himself?
Ray Davies: The Carnabetians searched for Hannibal as he made his journey across the Alps, and attempted to discredit him by spreading rumours to the effect that he wore “frilly nylon panties” – unfortunately for the Carnabetians, this had quite the opposite effect. The poem is actually about Hannibal and his brother.
Doctor Pockless: Yes, now I recall! It was the Second Punic War, which started as a result of a popular song in Rome in which it was stated that Hannibal’s brother, Hasdrubal Barca, was also known to wear “frilly nylon panties.”
Ray Davies: That’s right. But they called the Romans’ bluff by riding into battle dressed exactly thus!
Doctor Pockless: So, why were the Carnabetian’s searching in Regent Street and Leicester Square?
Ray Davies: Is it not enough to say that they haven’t found him yet?
Doctor Pockless: Yes, I suspect it is. Mr. Ray Davies, thank you.
Ray Davies: Thank you.
Doctor Pockless: In matters of the cloth we’re as fickle as can be. Wise words, indeed.

I want a threesome.
Men need not apply

If you look at my nose in profile, it has a kink in it. Like, it starts at a nice, level decline, and then about halfway through, jerks off at a 45-degree angle. As a small child, I remember hating it. I’ve always had a thing for symmetry, and my nose seemed to fly in the face of this.
Showing perhaps a disturbing childhood flair for body modification, I used to spend hours every day pushing the front of my nose towards my face, thinking that if I did it long enough, eventually my nose would get with the program and be one kinkless run from start to finish.
Despite many hours looking like an idiot, it didn’t work. I did, however, discover that I can induce sneezing by pushing down very hard on my nose, and that sneezing in and of itself is not entirely unpleasant. In fact, I used to stimulate sneezing just for the sensation of it. A friend once told me that sneezing is one eighth of an orgasm. Having sneezed eight times in rapid succession, I can definitively say that this is not at all true (maybe my friend had very mild orgasms, the poor thing), but there is something orgasmic about a nasal explosion, so perhaps my nosegasms as a young child were my first form of pre-pubescent masturbation.
But not my last.

Continue reading →

In this week’s Doctor Pockless’ Poetry Masterclass I’ll be in conversation with Ray Davies. We’ll be looking at the extracts from some of his most famous works and asking if Mr. Davies ought to have been made poet laureate or persona non grata – a question that has divided critics for over 3 decades.

Doctor Pockless: Ray, welcome to my poetry masterclass.
Ray: It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor.
Doctor Pockless: I don’t doubt that it is. To begin with, due to the collaborative nature of this week’s workshop, I’d like to present you with your own authoricon.

Ray:Thank you, Doctor.
Doctor Pockless: There’s no need to be awestruck, Ray. That’s why I’m wearing suspenders this week. To put you at your ease.
Ray: It’s very much appreciated.

Well I’m not the world’s most physical guy
But when she squeezed me tight she nearly broke my spine
Oh my lola lo-lo-lo-lo lola
Well I’m not dumb but I can’t understand
Why she walked like a woman and talked like a man
Oh my lola lo-lo-lo-lo lola lo-lo-lo-lo lola

Doctor Pockless: So, Mr. Davies, would you care to explain Lola to our readers?
Ray: I would. Most people have got this song all wrong, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to set the record straight.
Doctor Pockless: So, it’s not about truck drivers?
Ray: No, Doctor, it isn’t. It’s about nuclear disarmament.
Doctor Pockless: But of course. I can’t believe I’ve never seen it before!
Ray: Well now you can.
Doctor Pockless: I can indeed. Thank you, Ray.
Ray: Thank you, Doctor.
Doctor Pockless: You’re much shorter in real life.

Right, kink it is. A theme almost designed for me. On a site my mom doesn’t read. Hopefully.

I want to leap straight in with porn. Or more to the point a complaint about porn. As a young lad, porn was accessible in the forms of several ‘Girlie’ magazines in South Africa. The chief of which I recall is being called Scope (we didn’t have the quality of Playboy and Penthouse for several years).

This started off a lifelong trend in porn is that porn lies. Porn sets you up for false promise. It was years before I understood that girls didn’t actually have floating stars on their nipples. Who knew?

As I got older a miraculous invention occurred called the pornternet. Some of you may know this as the internet, but really, honestly all it is a vehicle for distributing more smut, and more false expectations into my life.

Lets see …

• Chat rooms in varies varieties, and the birth of ASL. Basically loads of guys pretending to be bisexual girls to speak to loads of other guys pretending to be bisexual girls. If you ever spoke to a pigtailgirl_bi … I know nothing.
• Photo sites and a picture to suit any kink, but try find a girl who wants to let you take picture of her with a bottle of corona (*ahem*) and suddenly you are some sort of sick pervert.
• Sex blogs and the awareness that someone is having a more interesting sex life than the one your were fantasizing about, and making money selling the book rights too. Sex blogs are the titillation of the old Penthouse forums, but with the added depression is that someone might really be doing that.
• Swinging sites – Loads of people having sex, who aren’t as good looking as the profiles you are looking at.
• Movie downloads and the bittorent problem. The problem being that no man sure have that much access to free porn DVD’s, and we are back to the false expectations of the kind of sex people are having. Especially when you go into the “we bumped into this group of ‘normal girls’ on holiday and they decided to have a gang bang with me just for fun” genre.

Basically kids the take home message is this

Porn lies, and lesbians aren’t really waiting for a man like you.

Imagine a nun singing this to a small assembly of children, that should be kinky enough.
High-heel clad toesies,
And latex sex-kittens,
Bright rosy nipples
And tight bondage mittens.
Mummified perverts
All tied up with string,
These are a few of my favorite sins.
Harnessed girl ponies,
With tails in their booties.
Ballgags and bitgags
And collars with dogchains,
Firebreathing babes
With tattoos on their wings,
These are a few of my favorite sins.
Boys in white dresses,
With blue satin sashes,
Strapped to the cross
Taking twenty firm lashes,
Canings that go on
Until the welts sing
These are a few of my favorite sins.
When the crop bites,
When the whip stings,
When the bitch goes mad.
I simply remember my favorite sins,
And then I can feel so bad!