At centre-stage is the claim that the opening chord progression to Led Zeppelin's 1971 paean to pipers in the forest, Stairway to Heaven, was stolen from another songwriter.

That's the case being pushed in a US district court by the trustee of a guitarist named Randy Wolfe from the '60s psychedelic band Spirit.

Wolfe has been dead for nearly 20 years but his trustees reckon Stairway to Heaven is a blatant lift of the Spirit song Taurus which Wolfe wrote in the mid-60s. And they want money.

Led Zeppelin songwriters, guitarist Jimmy Page and singer Robert Plant, are the sole defendants in the case.

OK, sure, it's not like there haven't been other hefty rock music plagiarism lawsuits in the past.

In 1976 a US court found that George Harrison - a Beatle no less - had “subconsciously” copied the Chiffons song She's So Fine when he penned his 1970 mega hit My Sweet Lord.

And here in Oz just a few years back a court ruled that Men At Work had snatched the iconic flute riff from their monster single Down Under from the kiddies' song Kookaburra.

Big names. Huge songs. High stakes.  But these cases look like misdemeanours alongside the events being played out in an L.A. courtroom this week.

For starters I can't think of a more omnipresent and celebrated rock song than Stairway To Heaven.  How many tunes are so ubiquitous that you're actually banned from playing them in guitar stores?

And who among us hasn't lain awake at night wondering WTF a bustle in your hedgerow is? If you took Stairway to Heaven out of the rock 'n' roll canon, surely it would leave a 7min 55sec hole in the cosmos into which our solar system would instantly collapse.

And what of  the defendants - the princely authors of this most lofty lyric and melody?  I submit that these are not simply ageing minstrels from England.  Nay, they are golden gods sent to walk among us like giants upon the earth.

Messrs Plant and Page aren't just rock stars; they are wielders of the great rock hammer, sent forth from Asgard's hall of Valhalla to triumph over all-comers armed with naught but a chrome microphone stand and a double-necked Gibson SG.

This of course begs the question; who among us Earthlings dares sit in judgement of the Elysian beings in tight, sequinned leather trousers?

Judge Gary Klausner reckons he's up to it. Gary is 75 and, frankly, he's a square.  Last week he proved himself most unfit to preside in the weighty matters at hand when he publicly referred to the band as “The Led Zeppelin”.

Nice one, The Gary.

And who, pray tell, will decide if the gods have sinned?  The jury is made up of four ordinary men and four ordinary women who range in age from 20-ish to 60-ish.

Two other potential jurors were dumped after admitting they were fans of the mighty Led Zeppelin.  One even said he had learned to slay the guitar by studiously jamming to Stairway to Heaven.

So, now with the jury empanelled and witnesses in the stand, I'd just like to say ... OBJECTION! How dare these lowly mortals place themselves in a position of dominion over Led Zep?

Exactly who is Judge Gary Klausner? Does he even rock?  Has he ever shredded a cherry sunburst Les Paul until smoke and flame spewed from the fret board?  Has he ever unbuttoned his shirt to the pelvis, tilted his head to the heavens - curly hair dangling like a golden veil - to emit an angel's cry?

I doubt that The Gary has it in him.

And the jury? What could they know of the alchemy of Led Zep's sacred rock?  How could they be trusted to untangle what is Zeppelin's creation and what is not?

I'm not saying the gods can't be called into question.  All I'm saying is they should only been judged by a jury of their peers. Not our peers – their peers. In all future rock plagiarism lawsuits, I believe a special tribunal should be assembled.

In a case like this - where a guitar progression is in question -  proceedings should be chaired by Chief Justice Keith Richards and considered by a full bench of eminent judges featuring Pete Townsend, Eric Clapton, Angus Young and Les Paul himself.

If they agree that there's been an unlawful riff heist, then so be it.  Until that happens, I'll always question the veracity of jury decisions in these matters.

As for Zep's chances of winning this case, it could go either way - as seems to have been foretold by the gods themselves (in Immigrant Song of Led Zeppelin III):

So now you'd better stop, and rebuild all your ruins.

For peace and trust can win the day, despite of all your losing.

Out of the mouths of babes ...

The other day our five-year-old daughter Katie asked me, "Why did we have a little holiday last week?"

My wife had taken Katie and her sister to Sydney for the June long weekend while I stayed home on the South Coast and painted the kids' bedroom.

"Well, it was the Queen's birthday," I explained. "Everybody in Australia gets a little holiday when it's the Queen's birthday."

"THE QUEEN!? There's no such thing as queens Daddy!" Kate shot back in a tone that said don't be so stupid. "They're make-believe!"

So I ran her through the facts: Queens are real and the Queen of England is also the Queen of Australia. Her name is Queen Elizabeth, just like mummy's name.

I explained how the Queen lives in a palace in London and she has a big collection of jewels and crowns and carriages and castles. "She's the Queen of you and me!" I added.

Katie stared at me blankly, mulling this all over for a moment or two before a knowing smirk curled her lips into the expression of someone who thinks they've just been had.

"I don't believe it," she finally said.

Come to think of it, neither can I.