I have spent the week in colourful debate with a variety of emotionally charged fans and antagonists over the X Factor blog I posted last week.  I refuse to comment any further until at least one of you has the inclination to put your views in writing and leave a comment to said blog.

Come on lovely people...engage me here so the world can get involved!

If I had a penny for every time a wowed audience member enthusiastically urged me to "go on X-Factor" I would have a pound, maybe two.  They usually begin the conversation with a sympathetic imploring that I must leave their tiny village pub for I am destined for greater things.  I often do not have the time or the sober attention of said lovely person long enough for me to explain that I am already the richest of all musicians.  I am the travelling minstrel, whose music contrary to the rapid decay of the industry, is alive and vibrant and real and HAS VALUE.  I say to all aspiring rock stars and story-tellers, abandon your frustrating pursuit of the attentions of the record company executive (does he even exist anymore?) and the Simon Cowells, go out and tell your story to real people.  Stand not more that a metre away from real people and tell your story well, give them the opportunity for one moment in their modern lives to be told something interesting and worthy, through a well-executed and beautiful medium, so well produced that their first thought is not to grab the spotlight for their own karaoke lust-off but to simply appreciate and be warmed and moved and appreciated back for their quiet, selfless attention.

We spent Halloween in the wonderful company of the inspiring community of Llangrannog.  Everyone made an amazing effort with their costumes that far outshone our own and we gave back with all our strength and heart and soul a performance that suitably expressed our extreme appreciation of such a place as this.  The Pentre Arms, beautifully set, filled with amazing, vibrant people who know how to work hard and party harder.  I don't want to denigrate the X-Factor; it's far too easy, besides it seems to me to be doing an excellent job of keeping the music industry alive.  From CD manufacturers to song-writers, everyone involved in the show is doing a roaring trade.  I just want to explain to all those kind people who are agog that, although I am a Christian, I have no ambition to be eaten by a lion.  I prefer to be the Lion in the African plains being admired through binoculars and I don't want to increase my number of admirers either, for I have no inclination to be caged in a zoo.

I edited into a montage some of the footage we shot during our live session on Alan Thompson's Evening Show for BBC Radio Wales. The thing plays over our song What It Takes, which seemed kind of appropriate.

Van Gogh made the artistic choice not to show the Goddess in one of his last and greatest paintings, cornfield with crows, but you would have to be virtually blind not to notice her. The painting gives one an unbearable sense of imminent death. The paths lead nowhere, the horizon looks like the end of the world, and those crows: the birds of Rhiannon (see: Mabinogion). 

In the humble cartoon on the left, we see another cornfield with crows. This time the artist was not in the mood for symbolism: there she stands, fierce and magnificent.

Nice picture of a pop-mythology redhead with pet.

Indeed, so undaunted does Little Red Sonja appear by the looming figure, that we are forced to conclude the two are in cahoots. The outstretched claw seems to be directed towards whomever is attempting to face the duo down off-screen. Perhaps it is us, the viewer.

Sonja certainly looks like she can take care of herself, but besides her prowess (sword), the background figure emanates from her as a further warning to the challenger: I may look kind of cute, but cross me and I will visit seven kinds of hell upon you.

Most significanly, the picture reminds me of the backdrop image on our Myspace page: two sides of the same coin co-existing in an uneasy and fragile truce.

xx