dr. hawkings
January 24, 2000, 06:30 AM
It's sad, but he has intelligent fans out there, but he slowly but surely pisses them off by constantly changing tour dates or they get bored waiting for albums and leave and this is what you're left with.
If he thinks he's doing it for the greater good, well, he's not. Maybe breaking the hearts of the few left when he finally hangs his hat, but really, who cares about many of them? He could nurture the new ones or the ones who liked to be challenged if he desired, but it's not what he wants. He'd rather test them and draw things out until they break and then pull them and test them some more until they can't function just to make sure he has the power to put them through the wringer and they show up. There's something incredibly sick and abusive about it.
I don't buy that he feels so bad about himself that he doesn't know when he's hurting people. I just think he gets a boner from it, and these are the last vestiges of people who aren't loved, who don't know what love is, and take it because they have no hope of being loved. He starves his audience into submitting. His biggest genius is not his music or his clothing, but his failure to spell anything out in black and white terms. He teases his audience onto the stage, and runs off when they actually make it there. They live in hope and would gladly put their own lives on hold and not have any personal achievement to their names and not eat for days on end if it meant he would finally answer their question.
And everyone here knows what question that is, right?
But he is like all liars. He distracts you. Makes you think he answered it. You are briefly satisfied, until you realize he has left and you are still no better off. But you don't want to admit you are no better off. You put all this effort. You came all this way. You look back and your life is a hollow empty shell. You have gained nothing personally from the experience. You do not want to return to your life because it is a wasted effort. You had crouched in your huddled apartment for a month refusing to go out with your friends because you were saving up money to go see Morrissey. You had begged your family, your co-workers, and your friends to give you the needed break to go see him. It's all about what you sacrificed. It made the trip to see him that much more special because you proudly starved yourself out of things you hoped to have just to see him.
You get there to the show, all smiles, joyous, and desperate, and he looks into your anonymous face and he runs away.
Something incredibly heartbreaking, isn't it?
But it's so addictive. He had his hand stretched towards you. He looked very sincere. You think that maybe it was someone else's fault. The security was bad. The other fans were annoying. You think that maybe next time, all those other unfortunate obstacles will dissipate and he will do what he really meant to do. After all, he told you that he loved you. Why would such a man who had it rough for so many years trifle with such an emotion if he didn't mean it? Surely, the word "love" must mean more to him than most since he doesn't throw it around lightly.
But that's not the sort of love he wants. He "loves" to see the look of disappointment across your face. He "loves" to see you try and fail. He "loves" to see you fret and frazzle yourself. The only reward you will get from him is another obstacle course.
If he thinks he's doing it for the greater good, well, he's not. Maybe breaking the hearts of the few left when he finally hangs his hat, but really, who cares about many of them? He could nurture the new ones or the ones who liked to be challenged if he desired, but it's not what he wants. He'd rather test them and draw things out until they break and then pull them and test them some more until they can't function just to make sure he has the power to put them through the wringer and they show up. There's something incredibly sick and abusive about it.
I don't buy that he feels so bad about himself that he doesn't know when he's hurting people. I just think he gets a boner from it, and these are the last vestiges of people who aren't loved, who don't know what love is, and take it because they have no hope of being loved. He starves his audience into submitting. His biggest genius is not his music or his clothing, but his failure to spell anything out in black and white terms. He teases his audience onto the stage, and runs off when they actually make it there. They live in hope and would gladly put their own lives on hold and not have any personal achievement to their names and not eat for days on end if it meant he would finally answer their question.
And everyone here knows what question that is, right?
But he is like all liars. He distracts you. Makes you think he answered it. You are briefly satisfied, until you realize he has left and you are still no better off. But you don't want to admit you are no better off. You put all this effort. You came all this way. You look back and your life is a hollow empty shell. You have gained nothing personally from the experience. You do not want to return to your life because it is a wasted effort. You had crouched in your huddled apartment for a month refusing to go out with your friends because you were saving up money to go see Morrissey. You had begged your family, your co-workers, and your friends to give you the needed break to go see him. It's all about what you sacrificed. It made the trip to see him that much more special because you proudly starved yourself out of things you hoped to have just to see him.
You get there to the show, all smiles, joyous, and desperate, and he looks into your anonymous face and he runs away.
Something incredibly heartbreaking, isn't it?
But it's so addictive. He had his hand stretched towards you. He looked very sincere. You think that maybe it was someone else's fault. The security was bad. The other fans were annoying. You think that maybe next time, all those other unfortunate obstacles will dissipate and he will do what he really meant to do. After all, he told you that he loved you. Why would such a man who had it rough for so many years trifle with such an emotion if he didn't mean it? Surely, the word "love" must mean more to him than most since he doesn't throw it around lightly.
But that's not the sort of love he wants. He "loves" to see the look of disappointment across your face. He "loves" to see you try and fail. He "loves" to see you fret and frazzle yourself. The only reward you will get from him is another obstacle course.