'Oh Lou / why did you leave us this way?' - Morrissey statement at true-to-you.net

'Oh Lou / why did you leave us this way?' - true-to-you.net

27 October 2013

'Oh Lou / why did you leave us this way?'

No words to express the sadness at the death of Lou Reed. He had been there all of my life. He will always be pressed to my heart. Thank God for those, like Lou, who move within their own laws, otherwise imagine how dull the world would be. I knew the Lou of recent years and he was always full of good heart. His music will outlive time itself.
We are all timebound, but today, with the loss of liberating Lou, life is a pigsty.

'7 glasses used to be
called for six good mates and me
now we only call for three'

-Patrick MacGill


27 October 2013

Related item:
Lou Reed is dead at 71 - Oct. 27, 2013
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Reading your "Lou Reed is dead" era work I'm reminded of that old line attributed to Samuel Johnson. "Your manuscript is both good and original. But the part that is good is not original, and the part that is original is not good."

Characterising the sadness some felt here as a type of grief-mongering is utter nonsense.
Personally, I was rather sad to hear of his passing when the news came through on early Sunday evening, but I was pretty much over it by the time the Bigfoot Files came on. Grief is reserved for those who knew him personally. On Monday morning I dialled up Street Hassle and wandered into town. The end. I doubt many here cried themselves to sleep.

Yours are not great insights, BB. It is trite, obvious hippy bullshit. f***ing snowflakes. Please. Light an incense stick.

I couldn't care less what you're reminded of you right-wing cheer-leader. Morrissey characterised the grief of Norway as nonsense compared to animal slaughter for fast food: which was nonsensical.

I have no desire to read of your reaction to Lou Reed's death. Nor that of Morrissey.

You simply do not have the credibility and calibre to judge my work. And the image of snowflakes to represent human uniqueness isn't mine, you thick berk. I'll light an incense stick then stick it up your nostril, then your arse. After all, you're used to blowing smoke up your own arse. Get back to masturbating to your Bob Dylan box sets.

- - - Updated - - -

Thought experiment:

"Of course his life is empty and meaningless. Anyone even semi-sane would go away and spend their time focusing on something they actually like, rather than waste all day hunched over his computer spewing bile on a autobiography about an artist they hate: themselves.

Morrissey hisses and groans, and constantly moans, YET HE WON'T EVER GO AWAY.

What a sad, waste of a life."

Bboy, two days straight now of rapid fire blog blasts, they are very funny but I am getting worried again. ANN

Am I supposed to care? Trust me. I don't give a fcuk about you, this site or Morrissey. It's just something to do until the next diversion turns up.I can't bake cakes all day.

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