Smiths, I must reply to the message below. THIS WILL NOT STAND! Morrissey said it himself: "Don't forget the songs that made you cry/And the songs that saved your life".
ah, wee Chris mcquain. the wetblankets thought they'd do you in, but they were SOO wrong. your passionate defense of the revolutionary nature of private angst has brought a tear to my eye. you's my kind of people. Here's a drink raised to you, aye!! I'd say B/S seem.....much similar to the smiths in some ways....the sentiment of the stories comes from a different perspective--stuart's songs are usually from the point of view of a different character each time, wondering about their own personal dreams and whimsies. the ethic is more expansive, but in teh end i think it comes down to the same thing---the day to day to day passions of some random human being, whether it be always morrissey(sic?), or either judy or sebastian or jane, *do* have the power to resonate with us. at least i believe so. in the decade of coke-snorting and fabulous excess, who was wondering about the private alienation of some lonely disenfranchised sad teenager?? i'll bet the smiths music made an impact in more people than we can imagine. and let me second the brilliance of Luke Haines!! i didn't know they had a new single out. ARGH they are fabulous! New Wave was on of the records i cut my guitar-playing teeth on. i still admire his elegant simplicity of style. those songs are so much fun to play...... Sell-out pride: sometimes i just LIKe things what are pretty and make me feel nice. there is a time for angry Womyn, a time for esoteric solipsistic weirdness for the fuck of it, a time for trying so hard to break barriers you end up wrecking your brains in the impossibility of such a deed. and there is a time for nice sweet pretty music that makes you feel all daisy-chained and want to pick pink posies for your darling and cuddle baby lambs and hold tiny tiny frogs in the palm of your hand and sigh dreaming on the dewy moss in the haze of the sunshine. all Humbuggers: Dr. Tweeasfuck prescribes 2 tablespoons daily of "Tree Lullaby", a pink and blue capsule of "Poupee de Cire" by France Gall, and bi-weekly recorder lessons. we need to clear our minds now and then. i tire of my vicious defense of feminist theory, my brain gets boggled. nothing wrong with cute nice girls now, nothing wrong at all. in any case--the double-speak of being on a belle and sebby list and complaining about teh crime of innocuousness? what's revolutionary about B&S?? ultimately, now. tell me. they have a conscience, they have style, they have grace.....but in the final analysis--it's all pretty nice music that makes your heart go pitter-patter. (my opinion, take with grain of salt) it's been done before, admit it!! and YOU like it!!! you eat it up out the palm of stuart's saintly hand!!! "pwetty pwetty pwease, more sweet music, stwuan!!!" you SALIVATE for it. you fear to admit how un-hep it is to dance along to a recorder solo in a song that misleadingly is about a sexual apparatus! You pathetic romantics. i pity you all......... :o) and me the worst offender by far!! there, i've said it, i'd say it again if i had to. ABBA is fucking great!!! admit it you poseurs!!! You dance along to madonna's "lucky star" in the darkness of your own bedroom, cos you can't shake the primal urge to shake your money thang to something totally idiotic and insubstantial. THAT is P!O!P! pretty pretty pretty pop!!!! sugar sugar sugar, sugar pie honeybunch, lalalalalalafuckingla!!! Louie lou-eye, ooh ooh we got go!!!! Joy and terror and loneliness and longing and lust and rage and irony balled up into bite-size capsules of PURE emotion. it's what you want, it's what you know, it's what you NEED! i apologize for that outburst. i'm fascinaated by the topic of shaving and hairiness. i was having an argurment with my friend sam the other day cos i said i find someone's natural body odor more sexy than perfume. she said "not when they havne't bathed for 3 weeks" which wasn't the issue, i dont' know ayone who doesn't bathe. but i hate perfume, it makes me feel ill, it was invented because ppl in olden days never bathed, and they needed something so obnoxious it would drown out their own bodily filth. the obnoxiousness continues. i dont' like it, it's fake. it's a fascinating idea for me to notice i am transfixed by the fact i can smell the scent of someone's body, and it doesn't bother me, in fact it sticks in my brain and turns me on. i think it's primal. i'm not talking being absolutely rank and filthy, just the natural way your deodorant/whatever may wear off in teh course of a day. you know. sweat is very sexy. if i'm attracted to someone i'm not gonna be picky about how perfect they are, i want THEM all the way. every 'imperfection'. "the Voice that stands for floods to me/is sterile born to some/the face that makes the morning mean/glows impotent on them" some Emily Dickinson for you all, in the guise of the Poetry Peewit. it excites me to no end to fantasize i'm finding beauty in something other people would never notice. and on that note. i want to re-iterate my tirades are not personal attacks on anyone who disagrees! i just have a big fat mouth, and i'm in a weird mood these days. argument and debate is the spice of life. contradictions make me wet. missed me missed me now you gotta kiss me, LJ mike j. i must fervently agree with you as to the weirdness of this summer. fuck fuck!!!! this summer is blowing my fwagile wittle mind. i'm in some weird universe. http://www.members.tripod.com/rebelstrange they were like those gauche youths who turn up to house parties only to cling to the dark corners in chaste disdain, driven by the naive, vaguely inhuman conviction that all merriment is a lie. 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