Annual “permission slip” Dr. visit last week: ears so plugged up with gunk I almost didn’t mind having the same questions asked again. . . and again. . . by two different forms and three different people. #gagamaggot
At least something educational came of the visit, though. Nurse dropped in to ask the SAME QUESTIONS as on the form in her hand that I had just filled out and noted that she didn’t have to ask if I were depressed, because she assumed that anyone whistling a “happy” tune was in fine spirits.
“That’s a fallacious assumption,” I told her. “I’m simply whistling a tune I am listening to ‘between my ears’ in order to drown out the dreck y’all are playing on your sound system. It doesn’t mean I am ‘happy’ but that I’m listening to something better than that stuff that would gag a maggot.”
“Oh. So do you have feelings of depression?”
“Oh, yeh. That ‘music’ y’all arer playing makes me want to end it all.”
…and become simply a mish-mash, a hodgepodge, a collection ruined by a few real stinkers. Witness my failure to exclude John Prine from my Christmas playlist:
If the dude were at least able to reproduce pitch accurately, it’d almost be as good as some Helmut Lotti stuff (at least instrumentally). As it is, it’s nothing less than painful to listen to, cruel to inflict on others and a canker on the butt end of my 2012 Christmas music playlist. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve heard worse, but it’s bee a while since I had a stomach strong enough to play anything worse than this.
Since The Guinness Book of World Records just made up a couple of new “world records” for Taylor Swift, I thought I’d once again comment on the state of popular so-called music:
By and large, it’s crap.
Swift has set records in, urm, record sales, etc. with sort of rhythmic, off key renditions of crap like this:
Well, it was kind of cold that night
She stood alone on her balcony
She could see the cars roll by
Out on 441
Like waves crashing on the beach
And for one desperate moment there
He crept back in her memory
God, it’s so painful
It’s something that’s so close but still so far out of reach
Oh yeah, all right
Take it easy baby
Make it last all night
She was an American girl
Oh, please. High school glurge in grade school vocabulary. Simply crappy in every way. And I refuse to post a clip of the nearly atonal crap its rendered in. And that’s the GOOD stuff from Swift, a cover of a Tom Petty piece of crap! *sheesh!* I absolutely refuse to post “lyrics” supposedly “written” (in crayon, perhaps?) by Swift herself. Lobotomizing my reader(s) isn’t a Good Thing, IMO.
Why am I picking on Taylor Swift? As I said, because of her new records demonstrating that it is she who is now the standard bearer of manufactured pop “music”–the best reflection of where the money from brain dead listeners is going. But she’s only a typical example. Most of the crap being excreted from the mouths of performers nowadays is eagerly lapped up by coprophagic morons.
OTOH–and this just occurred to me–perhaps Swift is a brilliant satirist of “kiddie music” and is making atonal existential metacommentary. Is this possible? In a word, no.
One small data point and I’ll rest my case: the Cheetos “chopsticks” commercial. The dumbasses are playing the thing wrong. No, not just a wee tad wrong, no, massively, hugely, inescapably wrong. They misss the frickin’ TIME SIGNATURE and add a really stupid, amusical duple that screws the thing beyond massively screwed up.
That the producers of the commercial could do such a thing is beyond cultural illiteracy all the way to cultural lobotomy.
Now, this guy goes beyond merely elaborate variations, but he does cite the tune correctly.
Bonus brownie points to those who can identify three or more of the composers or performers he gives homage to in the course of his variations. 🙂 (No, “Loonie Tunes” doesn’t qualify as a guess. *heh*)
Actually, TV commercials, political speech and anything uttered by Mass MEdia Podpeople, Academia Nut Fruitcakes and assorted members of the Loony Left Moonbat Brigade all qualify as evidence that José Ortega y Gasset was right. (I highly recommend reading “Revolt of the Masses” in its entirety. Just sayin’.)