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KGB and Trump – More evidence emerges

Posted on by Opher

Was Trump recruited as a KGB asset in 2018?

Did Russia get Trump elected using targeted social media, propaganda and lies?

Have the KGB got compromising videos of Trump – namely, that there is a Kremlin file with compromising video material from Trump’s stay at Moscow’s Ritz-Carlton hotel in 2013?

Are they using this to blackmail him into supporting them in Ukraine?

Ex-KGB official says 2 countries have copies of compromising Trump video

Explains a lot about the way Trump has been backing down and cosying up to Putin.

The Sixties

Posted on by Opher

I can only speak for myself and my experience of the sixties.

The sixties were a revolution. Not a violent overthrowing of the establishment but a revolution that took place in the head. At the time I believed it was shared by many of us. We were rebelling against an establishment that represented values that we could not accept. There was an inbuilt hypocrisy and hierarchical acceptance that I grew to despise. Society was steeped in a puritanical cloud that sucked the joy out of life. The class system pervaded to keep us in our place – fodder for the machine – workers to be exploited – fodder for the guns. The puritanical rules applied to us but not them. The upper classes were awash with licence. We were controlled. Religion was nothing to do with spirituality but used as a moral straitjacket for us, paid lip service to, by them, and was nothing less than a mechanism of power and control. We were being put through the sausage machine of an education system that was designed to discourage questioning and mind expansion and used for control and to grade us for entry into the further machine of careers and employment. The promise was that if you kept your nose clean and worked hard you could earn money, buy a house and car and bring up a family in suburban comfort (while those at the top exploited, cavorted and lived a very different life with mansions, yachts and orgies).

It started with the Beats. Kerouac and Ginsberg pointed the way to a different kind of life. We didn’t have to be consumed by the war-mongering, exploiting, hierarchical machine with its inbuilt racism and misogyny. We weren’t pegs to be placed in holes. Life could be more exciting, colourful and meaningful. Racism, misogyny, exploitation and warmongering were evil. We could build a better world based on sharing, equality, love and spirituality. Life wasn’t about making money and owning things. Friendship, experience and understanding were more important. Life was an adventure.

Music was the unifying force for all of us young, naïve revolutionaries. Music expressed the emotions that we were feeling.  The poetic lyrics, with their defiant anti-war, anti-racist sentiments and positive spirituality and love represented the equality and peaceful we were seeking.  People like Dylan, Phil Ochs, Joan Baez, Donovan, Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart and Country Joe and the Fish were creating music and expressing values that resonated with what I was thinking and feeling. We were a movement. There was a battlefield of ideals to be fought over.

We, the sixties freaks, were existing in a parallel universe, apart from the ‘straight’ society with a different set of values and aspirations. Naively we believed that our culture of sharing, equality, freedom and non-profit cohabitation would blossom and flourish and might even eventually become mainstream. Little did we know? The wily establishment was already infiltrating its profit-making fingers into the fabric of freakdom. There was money to be made, bands to be bought, fashions to be sold, images to be exploited, music to be made into product. Rebellion became big business before you could blink. As a seventeen/eighteen-year-old rebel, clashing with authorities and parents, living in a bubble of like-minded friends, already immersed in the music scene and Beats, Roy Harper loomed like the epitome of all we were espousing. To suddenly be exposed to the full power of ‘Circle’ and then ‘McGoohan’s Blues’

Goodreads – Book review – God’s Bolt

Posted on by Opher

Book review: God’s Bolt, by Ron Forsythe

When a novel begins with the total destruction of Earth and everyone on it … where do you go from there?

In God’s Bolt, Ron Forsythe goes to the only survivor: scientist Helen Southcote. Alone on a United Nations sponsored space station, she has to witness the asteroid impact that destroys the world, and live with the knowledge that she’s the only survivor.

She doesn’t handle it well.

Helen’s only companion is an Artificial Intelligence running the station that she doesn’t really like, and her only comfort the knowledge that the search for intelligence elsewhere, her life’s obsession, was successful: There is life out in the rest of the galaxy. Unfortunately, it’s so far away that it’s no hope of rescue, and unlikely to even know of the Earth’s destruction.

God’s Bolt by [Ron Forsythe]

https://www.amazon.com/Gods-Bolt-Ron-…

For the rest of the novel Forsythe flashes back to Helen’s life, the creation of the space station’s A.I., and the discovery of the massive asteroid that sneaks up on Earth, along with efforts to divert it. At the same time we follow Helen’s recovery from despair. She’s seen her friends and family all die, and is now stranded on a space station that can never land. The best she can hope for is to survive, alone, and watch the world burn beneath her.

Not the most upbeat life in the world. Still, God’s Bolt is fascinating in the same way so many disaster stories are, even if the “Who will live?” question seems settled right from the beginning. The writing can be repetitive at times, especially when it comes to Helen’s breakdown and the fight against the asteroid–I couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t necessary to say it was huge so many times, for instance. But it was an interesting, optimistic, look at what the world could be in a century and a half or so. Interesting enough that I was sad to see it go!

Helen is the main viewpoint character in God’s Bolt, and I found her well rounded, especially as we get to follow her through her life and dedication to the search for extraterrestrial intelligence. That’s a subject I assumed was an unnecessary side story, but just about everything is tied up at the end.

I also found the efforts to stop the disaster, complete with infighting in the world’s government and the rise of a doomsday cult, to be fascinating, even knowing their efforts would ultimately fail. All in all a fun read, or at least as fun as planetary Armageddon can be.

By the way, improbably … there’s a sequel.

The Cleansing – 29 – Chapter 14

Posted on by Opher

Attempting to delve into the psyche of a population faced with the reality of an alien invasion was an interesting task:

Chapter 14 – Seeds of Resistance

All over the planet people were emerging from their stupor and finding their voice. The Federation had come from nowhere. They’d taken over without a single shot being fired. People were left stunned. There was disbelief at how quickly and efficiently the Federation had assumed control. The military had let them down. They had simply capitulated. But that wasn’t the end of it. The people weren’t about to allow a bunch of alien lizards to waltz in and take over without so much as a ‘how’s your father?’ Something had to be done. Surely someone could do something?

These lizards were all over the place, rounding up people, manhandling children, and the rumour was of concentration camps, torture and mass graves.

Nobody could simply stand by and allow that to go on, could they? There was a feeling that we were at war, under occupation. The resistance began to coalesce.

The reaction to Ron’s address was mixed. There were many who saw resistance as futile, who felt that they had no option but to place their faith in the vision being sold to them. They had to believe the lizards. They had no choice. It all sounded great but they were reluctant to believe it but they felt they had little choice other to wait and see and hope for the best. Maybe they would be as good as their word? On the other side there were those who saw Ron as a traitor and thought the lizards were taking them all for a ride. We were being occupied by hostile forces that needed opposing at all costs. Principles were at stake.

The underlying groundswell was that nobody, whatever their views on the likely outcome, liked the idea of these alien lizards running the show. That caused universal disquiet. Could they be trusted? Nobody knew for certain. Everything was open to speculation.

The greatest focus of unrest was over the loss of sovereignty. Patriotic sentiments ran high. How could these aliens swarm in and do away with their country? They’d taken on Billy’s mantra – thousands of years of culture gone just at the stroke of a pen. It wasn’t right. This was soil that had been fought over, earth that was rich with the blood of generations. There were highly valued cultural identities that were deeply engrained in peoples’ psyche. You didn’t give up your whole way of life without a struggle. No amount of benefits could compensate for that. Their blood was up.

Besides, wasn’t it obvious, global governments meant absolute power and absolute power meant corruption and nepotism on a grand scale – assuming that the aliens weren’t controlling everything from behind the scenes, which was even worse.

The dice had been rolled. Now it felt as if the whole world was holding its breath. There was no telling where those numbers would fall. All over the planet there were bitter disputes between friends and in families. It split the people into two camps: the believers and the non-believers.

The believers, while not being happy with an alien take-over, were sold on the massive benefits that could ensue. On balance they thought it was worthwhile to be rid of war and put resources into other things. They liked the idea of good, cheap energy and non-polluting industry, of restoring the natural world. There were many who saw the removal of the greed merchants, corrupt and crooked politicians and the violent as being a good thing though there was general consternation at the brutal way these people were being treated as well as concern that the correct people were being identified. Many quite liked the idea of a global government, unity and inequality, even though there were an equal number who were horrified by the idea. It all came down to trust. They did not like the idea that they were being fooled. The insecurity levels were firing through the roof. Were they being led down the garden path? Nobody was sure.

The non-believers did not even believe a word they were told. They saw the aliens as invaders who were working some elaborate deception and did not believe they ever intended to deliver. They saw it as a ploy and the world government as a sham. As for the removal of the elites, they viewed the removal of capitalists as communism and believed that it would remove incentive and demotivate everyone, although they were quite happy for the crooked politicians to be rounded up even if they could not agree on who the crooked ones were. That seemed to split along partisan lines. As for the idea of a global government; for many that was a complete non-starter. Nothing could compensate for the loss of their country. They argued that the aliens could not simply impose unity and equality. It went against human nature. People were different. Some were better than others. That was the law of nature. To many these aliens sounded like a bunch of insane communists.

The battle lines were being drawn. Violent arguments were breaking out all over the world as people became more entrenched and conspiracies rampaged through the internet.

Grrndakegra was watching closely, selecting targets. This was fertile ground. The rising swell of dissent was throwing up a string of new leaders. She watched to see how this might be exploited.

Her conversation with Beheggakegri had been unsettling. She had watched the slimy ball of blubber writhe around in pathetic weak fear. She’d seen it – even if he’d come through with a half-decent plan, the fear had been there. Beheggakegri was the head of a big organisation, a person of enormous power, but she’d seen the weakness. When threatened by the whippet of a Giforian Chameakegra he’d folded like a deflated balloon. The threat of that Judge had terrified him. The Dref had no spine. She felt repulsed. Grrndakegra knew that Beheggakegri possessed not a shred of morality. His whole life had been a litany of schemes and deals. How this sagging, overblown apology for a Dref had gained the position he was in was beyond her. He wasn’t even the most focussed laser in the beam. She knew she could not trust him a centimetre. If it came to it he’d throw his granny under the shuttle. He’d certainly throw her in the propulsion unit to save his own scutes. She knew she had to double down on covering her own thoracic scutes.

Yet Beheggakegri still called the shots. She’d go along with him for now until it was expedient not to. He was right about Chameakegra. She was a detached laser. These Hydrans were hopeless, violent and irredeemable. This was all a waste of time. Follow the written procedure, assess them for what they are and pull the plug. All this silliness was ridiculous. The sooner Chameakegra woke up to it the better. That was frustrating. But, despite all that she warmed to her much more than he had to Beheggakegri. She was crazy but there was no doubting where her heart was; she meant what she said. She liked that. You knew where you were with that kind of person, even if she was totally misguided. Those Hydrans were a lost cause.

There was work to be done.

She began trawling through the Hydrans media, selecting shots of various rising stars busy rabble-rousing crowds, looking for potential; a strategy forming in her head. 400,000 hits on that one. She made a note.

Transforming hot air into action would soon bring out the true nature of these psychotic apes. She was sure of that. All she had to do was lubricate the wheels of dissent and transform it into physical confrontation.

Ron relaxed in his office following his speech. He’d poured himself a stiff whiskey. He told himself he deserved it but really it was to steady his shaking hand. He could not quite believe that he had done it, that he hadn’t simply dissolved into a blubbering heap.

A short while ago everything had been normal. He’d lived in his modest little house in his small village with his lovely wife. Life had been simple. He’d get up, have a leisurely breakfast, check out his facebook, check his book sales, check his emails and take a leisurely stroll down to the village shop to buy a paper. Read a little, write a lot, put out a bunch of posts on his blog aimed at the nincompoops, greed-ridden bombasts, violent extremists, religious nutcases and corrupt shitheads who ran the world and the ignorant, stupid, gullible, misinformed sheep who put them there. All utterly pointless, as his wife Liz kept telling him, but it allowed him to vent his spleen. It had all been so ordinary. Then the aliens had arrived and thrown the whole shebang up in the air. Part of him had liked that. In his opinion it had needed knocking to bits.  But, the jury was out as to whether they would really do what they said they would. He had to believe it, didn’t he?

Now here he was, sitting in a plush office in New York, in the UN building on Turtle Bay, not just visiting but actually fronting up a world government. And he’d just delivered a speech to 8 billion people. The biggest hit he’d ever had on his blog had been when one of his posts had gone viral and received over two thousand hits. That had knocked him out. Now, here he was with an audience in billions. He couldn’t quite take it in.

‘Where did that come from?’ Liz asked as he walked in to give him a big hug.

He grinned. ‘I dunno. How’s it feel to be the first lady?’

Out on the streets the shock had dissipated. People were emerging from their stunned comas. The realisation was hitting home.

Life was superficially getting back to normal but it was a false normality. Nothing was the same. The shops opened, the busses ran and businesses reopened but it was different. There were holes in all the corporations where the corrupt bosses had been and that meant vacancies that had to be filled, expertise that had to be found, decisions had to be made. Nothing was working properly yet. People were scrambling to get the jobs done. The corrupt, greedy and psychotic might have been selfish and corrupt but at least things worked, systems operated. Now corporations had to find ways to cover the absentees. There was a period of chaos as companies worked out how to bridge gaps.

Even with the best will in the world things take time. Even these alien lizards with all their super technology weren’t miracle workers. People had to be trained, resources had to be diverted. It took a lot of time. Periods of transition were always fraught. Nothing had ever happened on this scale before. It was going to take time. Until then it was muddle-through time.

On top of all the chaos caused by the abductions there were the bewildered troops, demobbed and sent home as their weapons were confiscated and they were decommissioned.

According to the lizards society was being dismantled and put together into something better. That’s not quite what it seemed like.

Chaos bred fear. Fear bred distrust. Distrust bred anger. Emotions whirled into tornadoes. Logic and rationality were the first casualties.

There were times when even the most optimistic despaired.

The Cleansing – 28 – Chapter 13 continued

Posted on by Opher

An alien scenario – the same political intrigue. I try to make my sci-fi relevant to the present day:

Beheggakegri was shaken. The reality of Chameakegra’s message continued to hit home. He’d placed himself in a perilous position and he knew it. The Judge had power. This wasn’t something that was going to go away. If Judge Booghramakegra had sufficient evidence in the form of numerous incriminating statements from various departmental heads he might be in trouble. She could take that to the council on Gestor and they could oust him. If she had enough…

He lay on his luxopexi absently shoving dainties down his throat and trying to think. What could he do to remove the damage?

Had they left a trail? Were there any messages, orders that could be laid at his portal? He thought not but he could not be certain. You couldn’t trust people these days. They had an infuriating habit of covering their own backs by surreptitiously recording things. Scandalous!

But, no. He was careful. He might have acted spontaneously but he was too much of an old hand. Even when he was operating on autopilot he was sure that he would have followed a safe procedure. He knew how to cover his trail. They probably had a lot of anecdotal evidence but nothing that would hold up to interrogation. There had been no direct contact. He’d done everything through Grrndakegra. If necessary he’d chuck Grrndakegra down the thruster. When she’d served her purpose that’s what she intended to do anyway. He was in the clear. That is unless Grrndakegra had been canny enough to record their conversations as insurance. Her scutes rippled with multi-coloured fear as the doubts rose up again. She would have done. He knew it. She’d have recorded everything. Grrndakegra was no fool either. She’d try and push the blame on to him. He was certain.

He poured another synth to wash the dainties down.

What could he do?

Silly ideas kept popping into his head. A sign of deperation. He could employ someone to go and steal Grrndakegra’s communicator and comulator. That’s where the kuff would have stored it. But what if she’d stashed it somewhere for safe keeping? Besides, Grrndakegra would have backed up any incriminating evidence in a safe place – probably a copy of all the incriminating messages somewhere out in the comulator cloud.

He could arrange for Grrndakegra to meet with the scene of a nasty accident. But would that guarantee that the evidence would be destroyed? Maybe it would all surface as her things were dispensed with?

He could bribe Grrndakegra to take the fall. But what with?

Could he deal with all the department heads who might squeal? He thought not. He didn’t even know who they all were. Grrndakegra dealt with all that.

It was all that drangling Chameakegra’s fault. If it came to it he would see her go down with him. He’d get his revenge in first!

Dainty followed dainty as his anxieties boiled and a proper solution failed to materialise. She would have to discuss the matter with Grrndakegra.

Grrndakegra’s personal communicator buzzed. It could only be one person and he knew what it would be about. She flicked on record. ‘Grrndakegra, we have a problem.’

‘I know,’ she replied calmly. Beheggakegri sounded agitated and that was not a good sign.

‘What? Chameakegra? You know?’ Beheggakegri blustered as he attempted to process the fact that Grrndakegra already knew.

‘Yes, she came to see me with threats and Booghramakegra and the like. Throwing her weight around. Saying she had evidence.’ Grrndakegra explained. She sounded calm and unconcerned which calmed Beheggakegri down a great deal. Maybe things weren’t as bad as he had imagined? After all, Grrndakegra had been dealing first-hand with the situation. If she wasn’t greatly bothered…

Grrndakegra’s relaxed manner made Beheggakegri think anew; If she really did have enough evidence surely she would have initiated something by now. Was it all a bluff? Was she just using leverage? It was hard to know how that cursed dranglers mind worked. ‘Are you recording this?’

‘Recording this? Why would I be recording this?’ Grrndakegra lied.

‘Never mind. Look, we have to change tack here,’ Beheggakegri said, thinking on his pedal extremities. ‘We can’t be seen to be deliberately sabotaging the operation. Booghramakegra would tear us apart. Are you certain that you haven’t left a trail? Is there anything tangible that could find its way back to us?’

‘Nothing,’ Grrndakegra replied. ‘I’m no fool. Everything has been verbal.’ She smirked at her agitated boss. ‘I’ve covered out scutes.’

A wave of relief flowed through Beheggakegri and his mind started slipping into gear. ‘OK, but we still have to take this seriously. Circumstantial evidence can be damning.’

Grrndakegra waited.

‘OK, this is what we do. Give out some clear instructions – you know, it’s come to your attention that the operation to produce the lunar facilities is proceeding far too slowly. We need to pull out all the stops and get it up and running as soon as possible. That you will be making regular inspections and expecting results. Cover our backs.’

Grrndakegra nodded. ‘I can do that. We can get it completed in no time.’

Beheggakegri nodded pensively. That was good. If the facility was up and running it would tell the lie to anything that Booghramakegra and Chameakegra might cook up.

‘Same with the camps,’ Beheggakegri instructed. ‘Something along the lines that it has come to your attention that some of the arrests have been too rough and that has to stop. All Hydrans are to be treated with the utmost respect and courtesy. A notice to all camp chiefs that even though the camps are only an interim solution they are to build as many facilities as necessary to avoid overcrowding and ensure that the inmates are treated well, we adequate facilities, privacy, good food and recreational facilities. Disorder is to be clamped down on. The camps are not punishment centres and that you will be regularly touring to ensure standards are met – something along those lines.’

‘I can do that.’ Grrndakegra smirked. She was enjoying seeing Beheggakegri squirm but was also quite relieved to hear what seemed like a good sound course of action. She didn’t know Beheggakegri had it in him. She had been worried. That Chameakegra was a threat. Grrndakegra had been concerned and not sure what to do. It seemed like there was some life left in that old frux Beheggakegri after all.

Beheggakegri considered his instructions. Had he covered everything? He thought so. If Grrndakegra got that into motion it would take the plasma out of Booghramakegra’s thrusters.

‘Right. That should cover things. Now, I want that drangling kuff Chameakegra to pay for this. I want this to fail horribly and her to go down.’

Grrndakegra waited. She’d known all along that this was the only thing in Beheggakegri’s head – a personal vendetta. For some reason he had taken a personal dislike of the Giforian Chameakegra. He’d stop at nothing. The fate of 8 billion Hydrans was immaterial. They were pawns in Beheggakegri’s game. Not that Grrndakegra was particularly bothered about the Hydrans. From what she’d seen they were a bunch of psychotic apes, space vermin of the worst kind, they deserved to be terminated. But Chameakegra? What was that about? She was a bit namby-pamby but she’d found her pleasant enough. She certainly had more time for Chameakegra than she had for Beheggakegri. She surmised it was all about control – some psychological flaw in Beheggakegri’s make-up. Whatever, it was not really any of her concern. She just did what she did, what she was instructed.

‘What do you want me to do next?’ Grrndakegra asked.

Beheggakegri was thinking out loud. ‘We can’t be seen to have any role in the failure of her crackpot idea. It has to fail and fail horribly.’

‘So, what’s your big idea?’

‘We use the opposition.’ Beheggakegri replied thoughtfully.

‘What opposition?’

‘All over the planet. There are groups of Hydrans organising against the crazy systems Chameakegra is putting in place. We have to fan those flames into an inferno. Use the Hydran’s propensity towards violence against them. If we can get the Federation to see that these Hydran’s are intrinsically violent and that Chameakegra is trying to introduce space vermin into the Federation she will be utterly discredited. I can take it from there.’

Grrndakegra ran the idea through her head. Yes it could work. ‘OK. Leave it with me.’

Beheggakegri shut down the communication. Why had he mentioned recording? Now he’d put that idea in Grrndakegra’s head. Had they done enough? Covered all the bases? He’d just have to trust Grrndakegra on that one. But at least he felt a lot better about things and had the start of a way forward. That damn Chameakegra was going to pay for all this. He’d make sure of that.

 Beheggakegri turned his attention back to Ron Forsythe’s address to the nation. He had to admit that the Hydran had handled it well. Beheggakegri could already see that he was going to be a problem. There was someone else who might need dealing with.

‘Have we actually got enough to undo Beheggakegri and Grrndakegra?’ Chameakegra asked Judge Booghramakegra.

The Judge looked thoughtful. ‘Probably,’ she replied, ‘but I wouldn’t count on it. Beheggakegri is an experienced politician and the bar is set high. I’ve no doubt that he will have covered his tracks and would be prepared to throw Grrndakegra in front of the shuttle.’

‘My thinking too.’

‘My view is that they’ll cover their tracks. The Lunar facilities and camps will magically begin to function well. We may have blocked the leak in the plasma there.’ The Judge mused. ‘We need to focus more on the issues that are causing most upset with the Hydrans.’

‘The extractions.’

‘Precisely.’

‘I’ve already tackled that with Grrndakegra,’ Chameakegra mused. ‘What else can we do?’

‘What’s done is done,’ the Judge replied pensively. ‘Somehow we have to regain the initiative.’

‘Easier said than done. Those viddies on their communication network are pretty damning. They make us look like a bunch of thugs and have spread terror all around.’

‘We have to justify them,’ the Judge pronounced.

‘I already have,’ Chameakegra protested. ‘I have explained why we are carrying out the extractions in my addresses.’

‘I know you have,’ the Judge smiled. ‘But they don’t believe you. They think you are fooling them and dragging people off to either murder them or brainwash them.’

‘I don’t know what else I can do.’

‘You need to win them over. Make them realise why the extractions were necessary.’

‘How do I do that?’

‘The Neff has all the details on them, doesn’t she?’

‘Yes,’ Chameakegra replied beginning to grasp the gist of where this was going.

‘Release the dirt,’ Judge Booghramakegra grinned. ‘Let them see exactly how despicable they all are. Give them the full works.’

Why are they withholding and redacting? Not going away!

Posted on by Opher

Trump mentioned 35,000 times – more than anybody else.

Clinton’s are both subpoenaed but not Trump? Why’s that?

Why is Trump employing an army of people to redact, delete and withhold names?

Why, with descriptions of the most sordid rapes, injuries, violence and criminal activity has nobody been taken to trial?

Why is so much still being withheld?

When Trump was talking about the swamp and the paedophile ring it was true. He just forgot to mention his own role in it! Epstein’s big buddy!

Was the Teenage pageant Trump ran nothing less than a recruitment drive for Epstein?

Redacting the Truth.

Posted on by Opher

The world is undoubtedly run by a shady, powerful group of billionaires who believe they are above the law.

They buy power. They control politicians. They engineer wars, genocide and poverty for profit.

Humanity is corrupt.

Rock Music Books – Opher’s Best

Posted on by Opher

Opher Goodwin’s Top Rock Music Books

Here is a list of some of my top Rock Music books (all available in paperback or kindle and some in Hardback):

Phil Ochs On Track: Every Album, Every Song  Phil Ochs was the ‘The Prince of Protest’ in the sixties. The only real rival to Bob Dylan, he was the archetypal Greenwich Village topical songwriter. Whether protesting the Vietnam War or campaigning for civil rights, workers’ rights and social justice, Phil was always there. Phil was the man to take up causes, write songs, play at rallies and even risk his life. His clear voice and sense of melody, linked with his incisive lyrics, created songs of beauty and power. As his career progressed, with lyrics and music becoming more highly poetic and sophisticated, he still never lost sight of his cause. Towards the end of the sixties he joined with the YIPPIES in protest against the Vietnam War. But idealism became Phil’s downfall. He was an idealist who could see no point in continuing if he was unable to make the world a better place. Phil lost all hope and descended into depression, which, along with excessive alcohol consumption, led to his suicide in 1976. Shortly before he took his life, Phil asked his brother if he thought anyone would listen to his songs in the future. Well here we are; sixty years later, still listening. The songs of Phil Ochs are every bit as relevant as they ever were and they are making the world a better place!Phil Ochs On Track: Every Album, Every Song: Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: 9781789523263: Books
Ian Dury On Track: Every Album, Every Song Paperback – 25 Sept. 2025  “We only ever get glimpses of Ian Dury; nothing is as it seems. From irascible rogue to national treasure, pop star to social commentator, cockney geezer to artist, he was a man greater than the sum of his parts. Part teddy boy, part punk, part vaudeville act; he was unique. The music that emanates from this powerful personality echoes the heart and drive of their complex creator.
   Dury began his career as a frontman with post-punk outfit Kilburn And The High Roads, but had his greatest success with backing band The Blockheads, which featured Chis Jankel and Wilko Johnson at various times. He found true commercial success with the albums New Boots And Panties and Do It Yourself. Dury went on to a critically acclaimed solo career and worked with The Blockheads again on the 1997 album Mr Love Pants. He also had a slew of non-album hits, especially the UK number one ‘Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick’.
   In this book, Opher Goodwin dissects his albums and songs to tease out their spirit and reveal the inspirations behind them. 
   This is Ian Dury: a Blockhead, a genius.”		Ian Dury On Track: Every Album, Every Song: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781789523744: Books
Leonard Cohen  On Track: Every Album, Every Song Paperback – 30 May 2025  An enigma, Leonard Norman Cohen was possibly the most improbable bohemian intellectual songwriter/singer in music history. He was certainly the working-class hero, the peoples’ poet, the suicidal lamenter of doom and the purveyor of popular songs. But the truth is even more complex. Throughout his life, there were juxtapositions of the most unlikely life choices and influences. To have fashioned a mishmash of ideas, styles and influences into a successful, long-lasting musical career is nothing short of amazing. He blended secular, mystical, sexual and religious themes into ambiguous poetic tapestries and devised an intricate, unique musical style. He possessed a deep baritone voice that, although mesmerising, was sometimes in danger of sounding monotonous. Leonard was able to fuse these elements into a distinctive amalgam that somehow worked on many levels. He did not look the part, play the game or conform to any rules, but Leonard touched hearts and minds all over the world, while writing some remarkable songs, including ‘Halleluyah’ and ‘Suzanne’. Focusing equally on his popular early albums, his more experimental mid-period and his final, late-career renaissance, this book analyses and interprets every album and every individual song to shed light on the phenomenon of Leonard Cohen.Leonard Cohen On Track: Every Album, Every Song: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781789523591: Books
The Beatles – White Album – rock Classics    Arguably the greatest album by the best rock band ever, The Beatles – also known as The White Album – proved to be a watershed recording. Coming as it did, after manager Brian Epstein’s death; after the disillusionment with the Maharishi; in the middle of the break-up of long-term relationships, and following on from the psychedelic masterpiece Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, it heralded changes of style and the marked the start of the falling apart of the previously tight-knit group.The album’s diversity and creation are analysed and its background and dynamics revealed. This extraordinary double album reflects a remarkable time and period. As the sixties came to an end, so too did the band. They mirrored the times they lived in. The album also followed on from their first highly criticised TV flop Magical Mystery Tour, the success of the first global satellite triumph of ‘All You Need Is Love’, and the highly ambitious Apple business venture. George Martin ducked out and ructions broke out between band members. But, among all the pressures and stress they found time to write and record an incredible array of songs; songs that synergised into a spectacularly successful album with a fascinating story. This is the tale of every track and every facet of this remarkable record.The Beatles: White Album – Rock Classics: Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: 9781789523331: Books
Bob Dylan – Bringing It All Back Home – Rock ClassicsOne of the most pivotal albums in the evolution of rock music, few other recordings have had more impact than the 1965 Bob Dylan classic, Bringing It All Back Home. In the mid-sixties, rock music was about to explode into psychedelia, prog and jazz fusion. Meanwhile, Bob Dylan had made an enormous impact on songwriting with his first four all-acoustic albums. He had created a different way of writing songs, by embracing themes such as civil rights, anti-war protests and social issues, which lifted the subject matter from teenage love songs to serious poetic works of art, rife with symbolism. But with Bringing It All Back Home, Dylan shot his lyrics through with surreal hard-edged beat poetry while the music contained both acoustic songs and blues-based loud electric rock. It alienated him from many of his peers in the folk community but nonetheless contains classic cuts like ‘Mr Tambourine Man’ ‘Maggie’s Farm’ and ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’. Dylan had opened the door to experimentation. The Beatles, The Stones, The Who, The Doors, Hendrix, Pink Floyd and Cream all listened and responded. In its wake, Songwriting rose to new heights with few boundaries. After Bringing It All Back Home, music was forever changed.Bob Dylan Bringing It All Back Home: Rock Classics: Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: 9781789523140: Books
Captain Beefheart On Track: Every Album, Every SongCaptain Beefheart (Don Vliet) was undoubtedly the creator of the most bizarre and wonderful music. A child prodigy sculptor, he applied his artistic approach to music, creating ‘aural sculptures’. He befriended Frank Zappa in High School, collaborating on a teenage rock opera and sci-fi/fantasy film entitled Captain Beefheart vs The Grunt People. It was from this film that Don took his name. Of course, a magic character had to have a magic band. Captain Beefheart On Track: Every Album, Every Song : Opher Goodwin: Amazon.co.uk: Books
Roy Harper On Track: Every Album, Every SongRoy Harper must be one of Britain’s most undervalued rock musicians and songwriters. For over fifty years he has produced a series of innovative albums of consistently outstanding quality. He puts poetry and social commentary to music in a way that extends the boundaries of rock music. His 22 studio albums 16 live albums, made up of 250 songs, have created a unique body of work. Roy is a musician’s musician. Roy Harper: Every Album, Every Song (On Track): Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: 9781789521306: Books
In Search of Captain Beefheart – A Rock Music MemoirThe sixties raged. I was young, crazy, full of hormones and wanting to snatch life by the balls. There was a life out there for the grabbing and it had to be wrestled into submission. There was a society full of boring amoral crap and a life to be had in the face of the boring, comforting vision of slow death on offer. Rock music vented all that passion. This book is a memoir of a life spent immersed in Rock Music. In Search of Captain Beefheart: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781502820457: Books
Bob Dylan 1962 to 1970 On Track (Decades)  Bob Dylan is the magician who sprinkled poetic fairy dust on to the popular music of the early sixties and his songwriting sparked a revolution and changed rock music forever. The diminutive poet/singer claimed he was merely a ‘song and dance man’ but Dylan altered popular music from intellectually bereft teenage rebellion into a serious adult art form worthy of academic study. Bob Dylan 1962 to 1970 On Track (Decades) : Opher Goodwin: Amazon.co.uk: Books
Neil Young 1963 to 1970: Every Album, Every Song    In the realm of singer songwriters, few have been as influential as Neil Young, whose music has always been creative and relevant throughout six decades. Neil is a chameleon for whom boundaries of genres do not exist. He has delved into folk, country, r&b, rock ‘n’ roll, grunge, hard rock, electronic and pop and made them his own.Neil Young 1963 to 1970: Every Album, Every Song: Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: 9781789522983: Books
Nick Harper: The Wilderness Years    Nick speaks!  I first met Nick when he was a young child and over the years he has become a close friend. This book illuminates the genius that I feel is Nick Harper and is designed to accompany ‘The Wilderness Years’, a trilogy of vinyl albums. Nick talks candidly about many aspects of his music and career. I include, with Nick’s permission, the lyrics of all the songs featured in the trilogy. There are also many photos dating from his childhood to the present day.Nick Harper: The Wilderness Years: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798815185630: Books
Here There and Everywhere – A novelI was in conversation with a good friend who, like me, is a Rock Music fanatic. We have both been everywhere, seen everyone and have had our lives hugely affected by music. However it is not who you have seen but what you failed to catch that you dwell on. I said to him that it would be brilliant if we had a time machine and were able to go back and see all the major events in Rock history; Robert Johnson play in the tavern in Greenwood, Elmore James in Chicago, Elvis Presley in the small theatres, The Beatles in Hamburg, Stones in Richmond, Doors in the Whiskey, Roy Harper at St Pancras Town Hall…………….. and a thousand more. Then I realised that I could. The Blues Muse: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781518621147: Books
Rock Routes – A History of Rock MusicThis charts the progress of Rock Music from its beginnings in Country Blues, Country& Western, R&B and Gospel through to its Post Punk period of 1980. It tells the tale of each genre and lists all the essential tracks. I was there at the beginning and I’m still there at the front! Keep on Rockin’!!Rock Routes: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781514873090: Books
Opher’s World Tributes to Rock Geniuses  If you like Rock Music you’ll love this! – 195 tributes to Rock Acts of Genius. – Each one a gem of a picture. You’ll find out what makes them so brilliant and a lot more besides! This is the writing of a true passionate obsessive. These are Ophers tributes to Rock geniuses – loving pen-pictures to all the great artists and bands that have graced the screens, airways, our ears, vinyl grooves and electronic digits – (well a lot of them anyway). These tributes make you thrill to all the reasons why they were so great.Opher’s World Tributes to Rock Geniuses: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781508631279: Books
537 Essential Rock Albums  – Pt. 1This is not your average run through an opinionated list of somebody’s favourite albums. This is much more than that. By the time you get to the end of the book you will be in no doubt as to the type of person who has written this and what their views are. This is Opher at his most extreme and outspoken. He’s been there at the front through thousands of shows, purchased tens of thousands of albums and listened to more music than seems possible to fit into a single life.537 Essential Rock Albums – Pt. 1 The first 270: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9781502787408: Books

The Cleansing – 27 – Chapter 12 into Chapter 13

Posted on by Opher

Unlikely heroes and alien political intrigue emerge as the tale unfolds:

Fresh from her encounter with Grrndakegra Chameakegra sat herself at her station to send a message. The rage still flowed through her and she needed to expunge it.

She sat in front of her comulator and pressed record. Her image hung in the air above the tridee. She studied her angry white scutes and began:

‘Beheggakegri, you slimy piece of dreyfus shit, I have the evidence of what you and Grrndakegra have been up to.’ She waved her communicator in the air. ‘I have an interview with Commander Loj at lunar and more from Minorian commanders at various camps. It’s all here.’ She tapped her communicator with a claw and allowed the camera to linger on her bleached face. ‘You two have been actively undermining my plan and I have the evidence.’ She glared into the camera. ‘I’m sending a full report of your sabotage through to Judge Booghramakegra.’ She leaned into the camera so that her face loomed menacingly out with fluorescent green eyes flashing spears of venom. ‘You are mince!’ Then she flicked the record off.

Chameakegra thought about all the advice she’d ever been given. Never do anything in haste. Never send a message to anyone when consumed by anger. Then she calmly and deliberately pressed send.

For a minute she stared at the tridee, her mind racing. Was this the moment to go nuclear and actually send the evidence through to Booghramakegra? Was it enough? Should she gather more?

At least it was all out in the open. Her claw hovered above the keypad. She hesitated.

By the time Ron was prepared for his first address to the new assembly the media was back up and running. Getting TV back was considered essential by Chameakegra. She saw it as a calming influence.

Ron mounted the podium and calmly surveyed the delegates spread out before him. There wasn’t one he recognised. They had all been appointed by Chameakegra and the combined computer power of the Neff, wherever that was. Somehow he had to put his faith in that. And, despite a few residual qualms he thought he had. This was certainly no time for doubt. Not when he was facing thousands of delegates and a world-wide audience of billions.

For a moment Ron froze. The fears rose up in him. What if the words did not come?

He was not used to public speaking; a few dozen in a hall at a book signing was his limit if you didn’t count a wedding speech or two. Yet here he was standing in front of a couple of thousand delegates in the old UN building in New York. At the front were all the department heads responsible for managing the various branches of government. Behind them a mass of delegates of all shapes, sizes, colours and cultures. He looked down the aisle. There were the camera crews with their equipment all trained on him. Nobody knew who he was. This was their first look at the new boy on the block. This speech was going live right round the globe. Every word he uttered would be analysed. Billions of people were probably going to judge him on what happened in the next hour. He had no notes and decided against the autocue.

There was complete silence. All eyes were on Ron. They were already weighing up this strange little man who had come out of nowhere – studying his straggly hair and grey beard, his podgy frame and slightly crumpled cheap suit. He hadn’t even tightened his tie. Was this really the man who was going to lead everybody to a new future? It didn’t look very likely.

The pressure on Ron was immense.

Strangely he felt completely calm and confident. He knew exactly what he was going to say. He turned to face the world.

Chapter 13 – Deception and Vision

Beheggakegri was incensed. He kept rereading the short message from Chameakegra as if he couldn’t quite believe it. His crest was fully raised but a multitude of colours raged across his scutes as he attempted to think of a way forward. That infernal Giforian would be the death of him. He could feel is twin hearts labouring as his blood pressure rose dangerously high. His medikit kicked in with a shot to calm him down, but that didn’t do too much. His confidence had evaporated. Had he overreached? His anxiety levels were dangerously high.

What could that Judge actually do? She didn’t actually have jurisdiction over UFOR. What if Chameakegra or Judge Booghramakegra did send out there evidence? Had that stupid Minorian implicated him? Couldn’t he just push the blame on to Grrndakegra? What had the stupid fool told her? Did they have enough to call it a conspiracy or could he get away with blaming it all on Grrndakegra? The questions buzzed around in his head like maddened zubby flies.

How should he respond? The rudeness of the message was such that any formal response should involve a severe reprimand, probably sufficient to warrant a demotion or sacking. But if he went down that path and she had evidence of conspiracy that could rebound on him. But if he chose to ignore it then he was displaying guilt and weakness. Which was worse?

For once Beheggakegri felt conflicted.

Then he made a decision: he would go the middle way, reply with a severe rebuke, tell her she is being stupid and warn her not to be so rude?

‘My fellow delegates, new governors,’ he looked directly into the cameras, ‘and citizens of the new world, my name is Ron Forsythe and I have been appointed President and Planetary Steward.’ He paused, looking resolute, projecting more authority than he had ever done in the whole of his life. A huge burst of confidence welled up inside him sweeping all doubts aside. He knew the words would find him. There was no need to search for them. He was the President and he aimed to make them know it. It was essential that he did – so much depended on him coming through. He had to trust in Chameakegra and sell her vision to the world. There was no room for doubt. He had to be 100%.

‘We stand on the brink of a new age. We have pulled back from complete disaster. Our alien friends have arrived to assist us to escape that horrible fate and move forward into a new age.’ The silence was thunderous. The delegates were watchful and sceptical. Most of them, just like him, felt they were impostors, brought in to do what the Federation wanted them to do. He leaned forward and peered out at the world. His audience extended far beyond the delegates in the hall and all of them were far from sure. His job was to convince them. ‘I aim to ensure that we grab this lifeline with both hands.’

Unfazed by the lack of response Ron pressed on. He knew exactly what he needed to do; his mind was crystal clear. ‘Together with our Federation friends I have been working through an exciting vision for the future.’

Ron looked round and gestured to Chameakegra who was lurking in the background. He waved her forward. A murmur ran around the silent hall. All the delegates had been appointed by their new overlords but that did not mean that they trusted them yet. They certainly had not had the close daily contact that Ron had. The Giforian was still viewed with great suspicion by most people. The horrible scenes of the abductions were fuelling distrust. Even many of these delegates saw them as invaders who were pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. If the delegates didn’t believe then how could anybody else?

Ron reached for Chameakegra’s claw and held it aloft. He could only raise it to Chameakegra’s shoulder height but it achieved its aim. ‘This is Chameakegra. She is the Commander of a spacecraft that travels through the depths of hyperspace – something that we can only speculate about. Chameakegra is one of two commanders who have been given the task of helping us save ourselves.’

Chameakegra stood awkwardly by his side not knowing quite where this was going. They certainly hadn’t rehearsed this. She had to trust Ron. A yellow awkwardness flowed over her scutes as she stood beside this little Hydran. Neff had selected him. Now she had to give him her trust. ‘When I first met Chameakegra I saw her as an alien lizard, part of a conquering set of invaders. She talked to me and shared a vision of the future. I watched her talking in her broadcasts and I could not bring myself to believe her. But she persevered. She told me she’d seen something in me and that was why she thought I was suited to this role. She continued to share that vision, putting flesh on the bone, until I could see it too. She spent time with me until I learnt to understand her mannerisms and feelings; until I came to realise that she really meant what she said. She had a vision for how we humans could be and she is trying to make it come true.’

He let go of Chameakegra’s claw, stepped forward and gripped both sides of the podium ignoring the cameras and peering round at the massed delegates.

‘I am a writer; a nobody. Everyone can see that. I am no politician let alone President. But I am here. I see myself as a bridge to the future. Just a bridge. When you have all made that journey to the other side I will no longer be of any use. But I can get you across.’

Ron stared the silence into defeat.

‘To understand where we need to go we have to first understand where we’ve been and where we were going. We have to recognise it and accept the reality of it. We have to change the path we were going down because that way spelt disaster. We have to find a better way.’ He gestured towards Chameakegra. ‘This is our crossroads. This is the better way.’

They might not have been applauding but they were listening. Ron had more charisma than anybody had expected and what he said made sense.

‘The world was in a death loop,’ Ron asserted, ‘a repeating cycle of escalating catastrophe – a cycle of uglier and uglier wars with nastier and nastier weapons – a cycle of endless ravaging of nature producing greater pollution and a climate change that would have been catastrophic – a loop of endless unrestrained greed in which we spawned billionaires and trillionaires while condemning billions to terrible poverty – a loop of tribal racism, violence and hatred, of gangs, drug abuse, sectarian extremism and crime. It doesn’t take a genius to follow that to its conclusion. We were steadily, inexorably heading towards the exit.’

Ron stood centre stage and dared anybody to contradict him. Rapt silence. But it was a positive silence. At least they were listening to him.

‘We had lost faith in all political parties, institutions and the media. We were being fed a daily diet of lies, conspiracy and propaganda. The billionaires controlled the media and ran things to benefit themselves, electing useless buffoons and populist self-servers. We were being led by narcissists, psychopaths and sociopaths and could not catch a glimpse of a competent leader capable of leading us out of this quagmire.’

Ron stopped again. He reached once again for Chameakegra’s claw and raised her arm once more, drawing her forward, up to the lectern.

He looked up at Chameakegra admiringly as she stood beside him. ‘It took an objective outsider with intelligence, a clear understanding, the scientific and technological means coupled with a clear vision, to help us crawl out of the grave we were digging for ourselves.’ He looked directly into the cameras and addressed the whole world. ‘Chameakegra provided that objectivity and vision.’

Slowly and deliberately he pronounced each syllable: ‘I    trust    her.’

‘This, ladies and gentlemen, whether you like it or not, is our only hope for the future.’ He shook Chameakegra’s claw in a sign of unity and victory. ‘I urge you to trust her too; to give her your backing and work hard to make her vision real.’

‘Together, Federation and Earth, can forge a better future. We can banish the scourges that have crippled us throughout our history. I say to you – back Commander Chameakegra and fight for a world without war and division, without violence and hate, without cruelty and pollution, without poverty and unrestricted greed, a world with a future.’

There was actually a ripple of applause.

‘The Federation offers us the science and technology to create that better future. They have temporarily removed the minority who were responsible for creating much of our misery. They will be rehabilitated and returned as wholesome, well-adjusted citizens. This isn’t an invasion, a take-over or a bid for control; this is our last chance… our last chance.’

‘Let’s not blow it.’

Ron stepped back from the podium. For a moment the silence remained then, first as a dribble, then a dam burst, and a surge spread around the hall, soon every member was on their feet clapping.

Ron smiled and nodded.

He’d passed the audition.

DPRP Mark Hughes Review – Roy Harper On Track… Every Album, Every Song

Posted on by Opher

Opher Goodwin — Roy Harper: On Track… Every Album, Every Song [Book (157 pages)]

Opher Goodwin - Roy Harper: On Track... Every Album, Every Song

info:

 sonicbondpublishing.co.uk

9

Mark Hughes

Another title in the rapidly growing list of books published by SonicBond, this time featuring original maverick and friend to a guitar rock god or two, Roy Harper.

As a long-standing Harper fan I know that tackling his discography is not a task for the faint-hearted. With albums going in and out of print, reissues, alternative versions and limited editions, there is a lot to get to grips with. Thankfully Goodwin handles everything with aplomb, clarifying where extra tracks on various re-releases originally stemmed from and where they fit into Harper’s recording chronology. It makes it easy to disentangle the frequently messy and confusing slew of releases from a prolific writer.

Of course, it helps that Goodwin has been friends with Harper since 1967, just after the release of Harper’s surprising debut album Sophisticated Beggar; surprising in that it eschewed the folk and blues numbers that Harper had gained a reputation for from his busking and folk club performances and comprised all-original material. Perhaps more startling was that it also featured a full band in places, not what the folk crowd that had primarily been his audience up to that point had been expecting. These were the first signs that Harper would stick to his own plans and not be pushed into doing what others necessarily wanted or expected.

What will be alien to modern bands is the fact that Harper’s first two albums, released on different labels, were both commercial failures. Yet the musical environment of the time meant that it was the music that mattered and the lack of commercial appeal was not considered a black mark against the artist. He found a longer-lasting home on Harvest Records for his third album, Flat Baroque And Berserk, the first of seven essential albums he recorded for the label over the next decade.

Goodwin’s personal memories and analysis of the songs and albums adds a lot to the book and offer insights that keep things interesting, more than some other titles in the series in being a sterile list of songs. Harper was never an artist that was likely to trouble the singles chart but he did consistently release such items. Although a lot of the songs unique to the format, particularly from the earliest years, have been compiled and re-issued, his b-sides remain some of the hardest items to locate for the collector. In that respect this book is a valuable guide to what was released, and in some cases what has not been released, both of which can be quite frustrating for the searching completist!

I would have liked to have seen a bit more on the live Roy Harper as, despite the brilliance of the studio output, it was on stage that Harper excelled. As at least a couple of the official live albums were assembled from a multitude of recorded concerts, there is potentially a lot of recorded material that remains locked in the vaults. However, considering that recording details and locations were omitted from Inbetween Every Line as all the tapes were mixed up and it wasn’t deemed necessary to sort them out, it could be a major task sorting them out if, indeed, they still exist.

Despite his long recording career, there doesn’t appear to be much studio material left languishing in the vaults and it seems increasingly unlikely that Harper will return to the studio to record a new album, despite how well his last album, 2013’s Man And Myth was received. So it is from these putative live archives that any future releases will presumably be drawn.

As such, this volume can be assumed to be as complete a record of the musical legacy of one of Britain’s finest and most idiosyncratic singer-songwriters as you are likely to find. Written in a relaxed and enjoyable style, it is an easy-to-read volume that will introduce, and re-introduce, the reader to the delights of the Harper catalogue. I certainly dug out a few of his lesser-played albums from my collection and listened to them in a new light after reading the book. And if that is not recommendation enough, I don’t know what is.

Now, back to searching for the missing items. Anyone know where I can find Goodbye Ladybird?

https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/U1TC6S4syl0

Roy Harper: Every Album, Every Song (On Track): Amazon.co.uk: Opher Goodwin: 9781789521306: Books