Viewing blog entries in category: Morrissey/Smiths - Page 2

  • realitybites
    Warning: This is going to get ugly.

    Was I left with any other choice?

    How long will this psychodrama continue? I hope it ends here. Why do I fear this is not the case? Because I am dealing with an angry woman—an angry woman who holds onto things: people, objects, and grudges. She is obsessed and angry. A lethal combination.

    See Part I.

    I am posting this here because hand in glove has a habit of deleting her blog posts. She has been a blogger for longer than I have. But she erased ten years of posts because they were embarrassing, pathetic rants about her ex boyfriend Chris, who she refused to let go of. I told you she hoards things. He is just one thing she hoards. She hoards celebrities as well. Forms obsessions and dedicates her body and soul to them. Loyalty is the highest virtue. Her motto, literally is, I'll always be true to you.

    Let me start off by saying that hand in glove IS on ignore now. I did not know that she could not post comments in my blog, while on ignore. I do now. I put her on ignore a while back—after I wrote that blog post about people who are on my ignore list. The list is not static. It is dynamic. I temporarily removed the ignore block from her, thinking I could not send her a PM if it were activated. I sent her a PM after her nasty blog post titled, Frankly Ms Shankly. I told her to Fuck Off, hoping it would end there. I kept her off of ignore though, giving her a chance to reply. She didn't. I wondered if it all would end there. It didn't. Instead she launched a vicious diatribe, making false accusations. I replied. And she has now responded to my reply. And I am replying once again to her response. Let's hope it ends here. This is ridiculous.

    I will now address some of her claims/comments.

    This is ridiculous because you and I have no history or friendship to salvage. I have known you casually through our blogs, but that is it.

    I used your name in my previous reply as you have used it in the forums in the past. You used my name. Fair is fair.

    OK, the purple font HAS GOT TO GO. What are we in middle school? Grow up. Seriously. If you could doodle hearts and arrows in your blog, I am almost certain they'd be there. So I am changing it back to black. Oh, do you really think your favorite color has ANYTHING to do with your personality? What if you are blind? What if my fave color is light blue, and that is not an option? Believing your fave color says anything about your temperament or personality is fallacious. As fallacious as astrology. Oh dear, you believe in astrology as well? This explains why you are capable of believing many things based on faith. This explains also why you seem to be so fond of CG. You are very similar in many ways. You both have a very nasty streak—like to hit below the belt. You are both never married, single, childless, and overweight. And you both post private messages on the forums or in your blogs. Very unethical, to say the least. Says a great deal about your character. You are not to be trusted. Also it harps back to that hoarding habit. Saving private messages? For what reason? Ammunition? Evidence? You don't LET ANYTHING GO.

    Friends are another thing you hoard. Like Solo friends, which you keep mentioning you have, from so many years ago. Guess what? Two of those old 'friends' of yours are actually my friends. I still interact with them regularly. One of them doesn't have anything nice to say about you at all. Thinks Chris was a figment of your imagination. He thought your whole blog was a joke—the rantings of a lunatic. But whatever. Glad you have friends here. No one EVER said you didn't.

    There was never a gang. I made this clear to you before. I am civil with most people. They turned on me because they don't want friends on Solo. That is NOT why they are here. My opinion is that, I was a means to an end. Viva in particular wanted CG banned. Once his efforts failed, I lost utility. They are loyal to no one. It says nothing about me. Plus, really, I have nothing in common with any of them—except maybe Skylarker. We both enjoy writing. That is about it, Leslie.

    You are in denial, a liar, or have not been paying attention. Is calling someone fat after being stalked and harassed non-stop for months on end, really the worst thing that I could have said to her? Is it worse than her suggesting I am having an incestual relationship with my son? Did you miss that one? Or was it willful ignorance? Perhaps being childless yourself, you failed to grasp the cruelty of it? Perhaps being childless herself, was the reason such a comment could have been uttered? It was the sickest thing I have read on theses forums—ever. Morrissey could have AIDS. I could NEVER have this kind of relationship with my son. The former is speculation. The latter, defamation of character. So no, my comment was not worse. Especially when she claims she is proud of her looks and size. So apparently is was NOT even an insult to her. Or is she lying about that?

    But Morrissey calls people fat dozens of times in his book. How come Morrissey can call people fat and you take no offense? But if I do, I am stooping to an all time low, one which your best friend would never even stoop to? I guess she is better than Moz then? Might want to check your logic there. And btw, your anorectic friend may not call people fat. But believe me, she is thinking they are. I'll bet my right arm on it.

    I understand why, as an overweight woman, you took personal offense to my comment, however. I did not mean to hurt the feelings of every overweight person on the forum. I actually DO regret those comments. Now that David has placed a ban on her trolling me and Robby outside the Pigsty, she has not been stalking or harassing me. This ban led to severe frustration, so she acted out where she could—in the Pigsty—starting that hate thread to vent. That is what the Pigsty was set up for, apparently. And it has been working. I knew I could ignore her on my own. She needed Big Brother to step in and make her ignore me. The forum has been so much nicer without her hate being spewed all over the place. Her not baiting and stalking me means I am not having to defend myself at every turn or resort to insulting her just to get a shot in. No one, shy of you and a few trolls, think that thread in the Pigsty is admirable. She looks like a complete tool for starting it. You are a fool if you think it is justified. This speaks greatly about your character—another CG commonality. I'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt and suggest it is all due to ignorance—you have no idea what was going on in the forums, but I am not so sure.

    I've never commented on Hitch's weight, neither when he was well, nor after he took ill. NEVER. It does not offend me in the slightest that you think Hitchens was fat. What does offend me, however, is that you read his book and are still a practicing Catholic. Clearly you failed to comprehend exactly what you read. Oh wait, you said you had the book, you didn't say you actually read it. No time for that right? Too busy making other people feel good? And look good? Why not try nurturing yourself for once? Feed your mind. People who spend ten hours a day pampering others need to take time to pamper themselves. I could NEVER do what you do. Give, give, give. Emotional prostitution, imo. CG more intelligent? No. And why would you be capable of judging such a thing, anyway? That is like asking a high school dropout to sit as a judge in a bench trial. You are not endowed with the ability/qualifications to make such judgements. Let the intelligent folks among us decide these things.

    I don't think you are educated or intelligent. Sorry. You are average. You may not have time to post or get into debates with others here. No time for ongoing, thought-provoking discussions. Fine. Completely understandable. But if you are going to have a blog, you might as well give us your best. The content and style of your blog is subpar. It is not engaging, informative, interesting, inspiring, enlightening, or humorous. It is dull—like you. Half of the entries are videos celebrating one of your many idols—a death, a birthday, etc. Boring. Pedestrian. So no, I don't think there is much ability there at all.

    No, you NEVER SEE the latter. That is EXACTLY what I, and others, are doing. All that talk about his vegetarian hypocrisy and misogynistic lyrics and prose, IS about discussing these ideas in general. What does it mean when he says this or that? Why does he say these things? How does it make me feel? How do these things relate to society at large? You have no idea what the differences are between ad hominem (to the man) attacks and critiques of behaviors and ideas, do you? You have no real critical thinking skills. Another thing that points to your lack of education and reasoning ability.

    Oh, I thought you said you lacked time. (I said you lacked ability.) Hmm. Now you are saying you lack ambition. You'll sort it out one day, I am sure.

    I hope so. I will hold you to that.

    See Part I.
  • realitybites
    See Part II.

    Hand In Glove—Leslie—does the world revolve around you, my dear? Are all of my blog posts about you? Are ANY of them about you? Do you think you mean that much to me? You don't. And even though you seem to think I have been talking about you in my blog, I have not. All my posts, in fact, are about other people—people I DO interact with on the forums. You are invisible in the forums. You hardly post. You are a non-entity. You have no positive impact or negative one. That you believe you are affecting my thoughts and feelings, is humorous, to say the least.

    That I am having to address you here, in my blog, is absurd. You have written three blog entries in the last month which attack me. You don't allow comments in your blog. So, I must reply here, now. Yes I read your blog posts. Ignore? Are you on ignore? Where did you get that impression? Oh, I know, you assumed, erroneously, that I was referring to you. Here is where your little paranoid trip began...

    What you failed to realize is that I have been battling other, larger forces on the forums. I have several people on ignore. That is what I was talking about. Why you thought I meant you, is beyond me.

    You think I put you on ignore for not answering a PM about reporting MA? Wrong. First off, the last PM I sent you was after your mom went in for her surgery. I asked how she was. You never replied. This was long after the PM about MA.

    Regarding the PM about MA: When Misguided Angel started posting here, you informed me she had sent you some odd PMs—asking if you were Morrissey. This was back in October, I believe. Then she started sending others similar messages. And was posting strange, convoluted, and cryptic things on the forums. People were confused. She seemed like she was a troll or mentally ill. I reported—asked—David if she could be a troll. He said she did not seem to be one of the usual suspects. Then I started a thread—to let the posters know what she had been up to behind the scenes. Then it stopped. Miraculously she started posting like a normal person and has been doing so ever since. ???

    So then, a whole month later—mid November, I sent you a PM about your mother. And that was the last time I initiated contact with you. I figured you wanted nothing to do with me. I respected that. I figured you did not like the content of my posts on the forums, as you have pointed out several times.

    So anyhow, after my blog post which talked about ignoring posters, and my thoughts in general about Solo, you then wrote this...

    Then I posted this... about people on the forums. The 'personality of a potato' was in reference to Reelaround, who bitches about me, but never contributes content of her own. She has the personality of a potato, imo. You assumed again, erroneously, that I was talking about you. (My two Someecards posts were not about you at all. Though the passive aggressive one could be, if I am to be honest.) And thus wrote...

    I was a little shocked when I saw that. But what could I do? I could have said it was not about you in the comments section of your blog post. But you don't allow comments. Why is that, anyway? A control thing? Well of course it is.

    Anyhow, then, out of the blue, you wrote this two days ago. It was obvious it was about me. And you have now admitted it was.

    So, because I could not comment in your blog, and you do not respond to PMs, I could not address it through the usual channels. And I really did not want to write about it in my blog. (I don't like writing about this petty crap in it right now. I value each of my blog posts and like the way they fit together as a whole. I don't want it contaminated with ridiculous catty things.) I was left with no means of communicating with you. Or clearing up your faulty presumptions. Then I saw Misguided Angel's blog post...

    It was written right after you posted yours. Seemingly, her post was about what you wrote. It looked that way to me, anyhow. So I posted my general thoughts about what you wrote and also about what has been happening in the forums... with cryptic song posting (not by you) and general insults by certain posters and a hate thread started in my name. You see, I too have bigger fish to fry. This is what I wrote...

    This time the potato comment was about you. I knew you thought my prior post was, so I took advantage of that. Well, you assumed the whole post was about you and instead of settling it in private, you decide to write a grand diatribe against me...

    And this should bring anyone up to speed and help explain what the heck you are on about and why. And so now I am replying to your, A Reply. I was going to ignore it all. But then I thought it best to clear up the misconceptions, faulty assumptions. And I hope I have done that here. I don't wish to add fuel to your fire. Nor do I wish to insult you or assassinate your character.

    You know how I feel about the free expression of ideas. You know that davidt also feels the same. You are free to use your voice to counterbalance things out. If you don't like the content, tone, etc. of my posts, you are free to make your own arguments or to refute mine with intelligent retorts. This place allows free expression for everyone, including you.

    If you don't think Morrissey writes some lyrics and passages that can be considered misogynistic, then you don't. It is not your job or duty to control the content of these forums. People will always have opinions that you do not agree with—no matter where you go. You want to live in a bubble that is all sweet and Moz-positive? Where there is no criticism? No dissent? Where group-think rules supreme? This is not realistic or even healthy. The real world does not function this way. Why would you expect discussions on an Internet forum to?

    You clearly have some control issues. You feel powerless over what others think and write. We are ALL powerless over others. You have two choices. Accept this fact and only worry about yourself and do not read posts by those whose views differ from your own—stay inside a carefully constructed filter bubble. Or, read the posts and challenge them. Write intelligent, witty retorts.

    You could be a challenging voice. But you choose not to for various reasons i.e. lack of time, ambition, ability. All three? Probably. It is not my fault if you don't offer your opinions/views. I am passionate about ideas and enjoy sharing them with others. And I have every right to be here—as much as you do. You don't get to decide who is worthy of being here and who isn't. Or who is a 'real' fan, and who isn't.

    I'd appreciate you put me on ignore and not read my posts in the forums if they upset you. Only you can control what you read. I will continue to be myself and say what I think, regardless of your opinion of me.

    You are free to address my post in the comments section. I DO allow comments. Most blogs do. It allows for discussion—a dialogue—to take place, not just a one-way street—monologue.

    See Part II.
  • realitybites
    Ten years
    Almost 600 blog entries
    8,685 posts
    Ex husband
    Free speech
    Private messages
    Cryptic posts
    Anonymous posting
    Listening to thread
  • realitybites
    Morrissey states: "If you believe in the abattoir then you would support Auschwitz. There's no difference. People who would disagree with this statement have probably never been inside an abattoir."

    [​IMG] < [​IMG]

    Are his comments insensitive, even crass? Well, yes.

    The Nazis DEHUMANIZED Jews, gays, Gypsies, the handicapped, and other undesirables, under the UNSCIENTIFIC theories of Eugenics, reducing the status of these humans to the status of non-human animals. So, Auschwitz victims were regarded as being non-human animals—just like cattle. The modern meat industry treats animals as non-humans—as they are—just like cattle. Thus, non-human animals are just like the non-humans of Auschwitz. This is the logic behind Morrissey's proposition. It makes sense on paper. And coming from Jewish intellectuals and scholars who survived the Holocaust, makes it look more legitimate. Who can argue with the victims of the Holocaust themselves, right?

    Morrissey claiming animals are treated like the victims of Auschwitz is not a new argument, nor one which he concocted. But, even if it is logically sound, it is still insensitive coming from a non-Jew who is using the historical tragedy of a group of people for his own political purposes. It is emotional PROPAGANDA. And the Anti-Defamation League agrees.

    Humans were treated like non-human animals. Animals are not treated like humans. Jews are humans, NOT non-human animals. Are animals being treated like Jews? It was wrong to treat Jews like animals, right? Is it also, then, wrong to treat animals like animals? This is essentially what Morrissey and Newkirk are saying. It is wrong to treat animals like animals. We need to treat them like humans. So the question is, should we give animals the same consideration as humans? If we do, this would mean they could not be used for food, or resources such as milk and fur, labor of any kind, entertainment, or even be regarded as pets. Why? Because they cannot offer consent. And without consent, this would amount to involuntary exploitation and confinement. In other words, slavery. And slavery is illegal. Do you agree with that? If not, then you don't accept this argument. And neither does Morrissey, really, when you think about it. He is all talk and no action. Because the man consumes diary and owns pets.

    His inconsistency and hypocrisy is apparent to all, and makes him look like a silly, insensitive man, exploiting the tragedy of a group of people for his own selfish ideology—an ideology which in practice, he doesn't even fully embrace himself.
  • realitybites
    I consider myself bisexual. This identity is not fully embraced by the gay community or the straight one. Both groups think bisexuals are fence sitters. Mostly that we are AFRAID to embrace our gayness. Still keeping one foot in the heterocourt. This may be the case for some. It is not the case for me. I could care less what people think. My family is very open and would completely accept me being a lesbian. My mom knows I am bisexual, as does my son. They get it. They understand I have a capacity to love both sexes.

    Many claim no one is obligated to come out. True. It is her/his life. And we don't know if doing so would mean their family would disown them or they could lose their jobs etc. But living in a closet, just keeps alternative sexual identities in the margins. Gives the impression it is something to hide—be ashamed of. Moz doesn't help the cause when he fails to use the term bisexual. If he truly loves both sexes, and is and can be, sexually attracted to both, then embracing this label could help so many of us bisexuals. It would help to legitimate it. Him failing to identify with it, makes us wonder why?

    Many bisexual artists and celebrities—both women and men—have spoken out about their bisexuality. This has helped me see that I am not alone. Not some freak. Not a fence sitter. So now, when I say to someone, I am bisexual, they no longer roll their eyes and say, yeah right, under their breath.

    Is Morrissey bisexual or gay? Only he knows. And what does it mean to be bi and not gay? Does it mean you have to have slept with both sexes? Or is simply being attracted to both enough? If a married man is attracted to some men, but has never had a sexual experience with another man, is he bisexual? Or straight? I'd say bisexual. Because it is about the recognized capacity to love both sexes, not acting on it, necessarily. A celibate, virginal priest knows his sexual orientation, most likely, even though he may have never experienced sexual activity with anyone. So if it isn't about behavior, then what is it about? Desire.

    And this is where I have a problem with Morrissey being bisexual, rather than gay. He states in his book, or insinuates, he has had loving relationships with both sexes. Yet, he never claims to have ever been sexually attracted to any woman. However, he has made numerous references indicating he finds men sexually desirable. So if he does not desire women, and actually finds them repulsive—especially their genitalia (see book), it is hard to believe, in my mind, that he is bisexual. He may love both. But Tina is hardly described as an object of desire, in his book. In contrast, the men are. But those sexy passages about Jake have been edited out. Why? To make Tina look sexier? To make him look more bi, as the book was tilting towards gay? That is my theory.

    So is Morriseey gay and not bi? I think so. But it is for him to decide. But he seems unwilling to claim the label—the identity—and instead comes up with, yet, another label of his own. He defines 'humasexual' as loving both sexes. Maybe he does love both. Maybe 'humasexual' is a person who loves both sexes but desires only the same sex, sexually. Gay with a twist?

    It is odd that he claims to hate labels, and this is why he never embraced one. Yet he then creates another label, for himself, and announces it to the world on TTY. Maybe he just wants to be in control... the one to pin a label on himself and not have it be done by the press or public? We do know he is a control freak, after all.
  • realitybites
    Certain passages in Morrissey's book, Autobiography, read as misogynistic polemics against femaleness. To deny this is delusional. Here is an example: "Night after night like an unowned dog I would tear through the park, a creature in human form, all perilous bolt inviting danger, the bike dancing controlled flips as I gulped jets of rain–more danger, more fun. In comparison, what had girls to offer? Nothing but a mangled jungle of tangled hair presented as the jackpot payoff. Honeypots sprawled like open graves, their owners doing nothing at all other than letting you. The call of duty is all yours–to turn on and get off; to hit the spot and know the ropes; to please and be pleased; as the owners of such Bermuda Triangles do... nothing."

    Coming from anyone else, this would read as hate speech. Why do we forgive the writer who pens such a diatribe against our sex? Because he is Morrissey? Yes, because he is Morrissey. But should we? Or should we hold him accountable?

    I never cared—still don't—about his sexual orientation. I mean, I never had romantic fantasies to be with the man. Sure he is sexy, charismatic, and handsome. I guess when I first set eyes on him and for a short time after that, there was an attraction. But I am a realist. Wasn't gonna hook-up with him. I had no illusions of such. So it mattered not that he wasn't sexually attracted to women. But not being attracted to them is one thing. Being utterly disgusted by them is another. I assumed, rightfully, that he is gay. This noted passage, along with several others in the book, confirm this for me.

    Imagine if he, as a white person, wrote a diatribe against blackness. Alarm bells would go off. But as most of us know, sex/gender is the last form of discrimination that is tolerated—worldwide. You think it isn't? You think we have moved past sex/gender discrimination? No one thinks it is acceptable anymore? Think again. How many of the liberals out there cry out against gender segregation in Islamic societies? Not too many. There is outrage about Palestinians being oppressed by the Israelis. But nobody is talking about liberating the women from male oppression, within this sex segregated society.

    What Moz wrote was at the very least, insensitive. I am really glad I am not one to hang on his every word. For if I were, I would be devastated.

    Anybody remember when Christopher Hitchens wrote that article claiming women weren't funny? It was a great polemic. I didn't agree with him. Not sure more than a handful of folks did/do. But the Internet lit up light a Christmas tree. And every liberal and conservative newspaper, talk show, and online magazine was discussing it, asking, "Is he sexist?" "Is he a misogynist?" There was careful, intelligent debate. The best of the best voiced their opinions, and wrote articulate retorts.

    There isn't much going on debate-wise when it comes to Morrissey's attacks on femaleness. Why? Why the eerie silence in the media? Why the silence here? Actually, the silence on Solo is not surprising. Because, to bring up such a topic results in an idiotic comment such as, "What is the point of this thread?" This type of fan wants to silence the dissenters, the free thinkers, the folks who question things. Bringing these things out in the open threatens to pop their filter bubbles.

    What does it mean if Morrissey hates femaleness—at least sexually? Does it change the way we interpret the songs? Is he no longer on our side—a voice for equality? What do lyrics such as pretty girls make graves and I lost my faith In womanhood look like in this new light? Should we now take them more literally? Reevaluate all the songs? Would doing so ruin the listening experience for many? Yes, I am certain it would. Would it ruin mine? No, not at all. Never saw him as a hero or as a champion for the female sex—and her interests. So, nobody has fallen off a pedestal in my world. I do, however, feel sad for those who did hold Moz to a higher standard, believing him to be a spokesperson for women's rights and issues. This book, surely, was a soul crusher.
  • realitybites
    My print version is on its way. Should have it in a week or so. But in the meantime I am going to start reading it as an eBook on my tablet.

    This is an ongoing post, updated regularly until I finish the book.



    First photos...


    Let the reading begin...

    Good morning. And indeed it is. After reading Moz's book in bed last night, I slept like a baby. Didn't want to put it down. But I knew I had a busy day up ahead.

    This is going to sound cliche, but the book is a page turner. It really is. From page one I was fully engrossed in the text. Morrissey is a wonderful story teller. Nannie, Jackie, and all his family members read like interesting characters in a novel. Moz's imagery is affective and colorful. Bleak, quiet, dirty, desperate Manchester... no wonder Moz found friendship and amusement in small vinyl discs. There was nothing else to do. The city died after dark. Two channels on television. No other electronics to be found. There was music and books. And that's it. His childhood was so different from my own. But because of his ability to describe his experiences so effectively, I am able to empathize with and visualize his early years.

    Moz eloquently and thoroughly reveals why he became a singer and not a guitarist or a pianist. He first fell in love with the words on the page and not the music via Record Song Book... "an expensive magazine that prints the lyrics of famous or bubbling songs of the month, and I practice with invented melodies on the songs that I haven't heard. It is only the singing voice, I decide, that tells us how things became how they are..."

    Can't wait to read more tonight. I want to know what became of Mary once she moved to America. And Nannie. Did she settle nicely into her new home? Poor black cat. We can only hope that Minnie fed it. Alas Morrissey tells us it is highly unlikely.

    Another great morning. Great read last night. Pages 50-1oo reveal a great deal about Moz's early sexual development. If the book ended here, I'd without any doubt conclude that he is in fact gay (not bi). But there are nearly 400 more pages to ingest. So we shall see.

    Hmm. So, Morrissey announces on TTY : "Unfortunately, I am not homosexual. In technical fact, I am humasexual. I am attracted to humans. But, of course... not many."

    Well this really muddies the waters, doesn't it? What's a girl to think now?

    Woke up this morning with this beautiful passage still etched in my mind...

    "The written word is an attempt at completeness when there is no one impatiently awaiting you in a dimly lit bedroom – awaiting your tales of the day, as the healing hands of someone who knew turn to you and touch you, and you lose yourself so completely in another that you are momentarily delivered from yourself. Whispering across the pillow comes a kind voice that might tell you how to get out of certain difficulties, from someone who might mercifully detach you from your complications. When there is no matching of lives, and we live on a strict diet of the self, the most intimate bond can be with the words that we write."

    Last night I learned what became of Mary. Married, kids, frogs galore. But what happened between the years that she arrived in the US and got married? Why did she move there in the first place?

    Jon Daley. Tragedy. So sad. Lots of loss and death in Moz's young life. Could this explain why he has walls erected? Perhaps.

    Name origin...

    "My own name is by now synonymous with the word ‘miserable’ in the press, so Johnny putters with ‘misery’ and playfully arrives at ‘misery mozzery’, which truncates to Moz, and I am classified ever after. I had originally decided to use only my surname because I couldn’t think of anyone else in music that had done so – although, of course, many had been known by just one name, but it hadn’t been their surname. Only classical composers were known by just their surnames, and this suited my mudlark temperament quite nicely."

    I hope he doesn't mind being called Moz. That is how I refer to him 90% of the time.

    Still waiting for my print book to arrive. By the time it gets here, I'll probably be finished with the eBook. I'm almost halfway finished now.

    Yay! My book was in my PO Box this morning. Should I read the print version or keep reading it on my tablet? Hmm... I'll probably do both. I like being able to highlight text then copy it and email it to myself. Keeps me from having to type out my favorite passages. But I do love holding a paperback book. And... it is much easier to flip through the pages.



    I'm halfway through the book. The Smiths dissolve with a whisper...

    "At the close of the Strangeways sessions there took place a glut of meetings with accountants and lawyers at the Wool Hall Studio, and in the context of such, the Smiths breathed a last exhausted sigh, and folded. It happened as quickly and as unemotionally as this sentence took to describe it. No high-octane squabbles, no screams at midnight, no flying furniture, no one dragged head first into the snake-pit, no animated yelps from unused outbuildings (these would, of course, come eight years later, eight years too late, at the Smiths High Court trial). In 1987, at Roland Gardens, Johnny and I stood – he smiling, I not master but servant. Sing me to sleep|I’m tired, and I|I want to go to bed."

    Welcome to America! Love Moz's humorous descriptions of his experiences in the US while touring during is early Solo years. Here are a couple examples...

    "The Smiths and REM had come to light at roughly the same time, and, as a Sire Records executive had remarked, ‘It’s just a question of which of the two will explode in America first.’ As the Smiths choked to death on a chip, the REM rocket accelerated. Michael’s voice is a very cornfed John Denver sound, and in fact his real name is John."

    "I am introduced to ‘the most famous football player in America – who loves you.’
    ‘Does he have a name?’ I ask, but suddenly this jockstrap hunk of studhorse has me in a crushed manful hug, into which I disappear like a pressed flower. Where, I wonder, am I? ‘Oh, I think Morrissey summed it all up perfectly when he said ...’ and at this point prime-time television’s Denis Leary bursts into mock tears – which is of course the punchline, and the loud audience laughter indicates understanding."

    Love Moz's description of his time with Jake. He obviously was very much in love and happy as well.

    This had me in stitches. I guess it all depends on who his biting wit is directed at...

    "Siouxsie chooses Timi Yuro’s Interlude, and she pulls up at Hook End Manor recording studio in a black Mercedes. She is carrying her own microphone and she wants to get on with it minus any familiar chit-chat. In the event, she is a seasoned professional of exact run-throughs and topnotch precision. There is only one crack in the alabaster as she listens to her final take and softly asks me, ‘Are you sure it’s OK?’ It is the solitary moment when the Soviet Statue breathes. One can suddenly imagine real blood in Siouxsie’s veins – and yet, perhaps not."

    I'm about to enter the courtroom...

    Trudging slowly through the court case pages. Just when I think I will be able to come up for air... oh no!

    Love the last hundred pages of the book. Moz is witty and playful. Almost happy, it seems. His description of his relationship with Tina Dehghani shows her to be loyal, considerate, non-demanding, intelligent, and good company. Passionate? Doesn't say. Obviously he can and does love both men AND women. Maybe just a few more men--or many--than women. Is it ever 50/50? Perhaps he desires men more in a physical and emotional, even intellectual sense. But he can clearly also relate to women and establish meaningful connections with them.

    Moz is not a misogynist, as some have suggest. What man does not utter insensitive things every once in a while? Women are not innocent either. The street runs both ways. True misogyny is fueled by dogma and anger. Moz has no script and no rage against femaleness.

    Some of Moz's comments can/may be interpreted as anti-Semitic. But I don't believe Moz harbors any real hate for Jews--or any group for that matter. He just doesn't filter what he says a great deal of the time. This is not always a bad thing. At least he is not vulgar--now that would be criminal.

    I finished the book this afternoon. Enjoyed it very much. Well done Moz. Thanks for sharing your story with us.
  • realitybites
    I just put together a third PDF book titled, realitybites Returns. It contains all my blog entries from where realiybites back left off up until today.

    If you want to read it you can download it here:

    realitybites Returns free PDF download

    And here are some other PDFs you might want to download, or not:

    realitybites free PDF download

    realitybites back free PDF download

    Eleven Poems

    Just the Poems

    An Atheist in God's Sandbox

    Hilariously Depressing Moz Lyrics
  • realitybites
    This has been a re-commitment ceremony of sorts... this active listening and lyrics posting. In these last two weeks, I have listened to well over 200 Morrissey songs. My journey is now complete. So, what effect has it had upon my fandom, a friend recently asked? Well... I am going to give it a few days to marinate. And then I will let you know. Next Thursday, the 29th, I am going to see Morrissey 25: Live in Sedona. I plan to blog about my experience. Perhaps I will address the fandom question then.

    In reverse order, Smiths' last album to Morrissey's latest...

    Part II is albums The Queen is Dead - Strangeways, Here We Come. Smiths Part I. Moz albums Part I, Part II.


    The Queen is Dead ~ August 21, 2013

    Frankly Mr. Shankly

    Fame, Fame, fatal Fame
    It can play hideous tricks on the brain

    I know It's Over

    A hauntingly beautiful song.

    It's so easy to laugh
    It's so easy to hate
    It takes strength to be gentle and kind
    Over, over, over, over

    Cemetry Gates

    One of my favorite Smiths songs. Clever, witty, and fun... a happy song?

    A dreaded sunny day
    So I meet you at the cemetry gates
    Keats and Yeats are on your side
    While Wilde is on mine

    If you must write prose/poems
    The words you use should be your own
    Don't plagiarise or take "on loan"

    Bigmouth Strikes Again

    Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking
    When I said I'd like to smash every tooth
    In your head

    Bigmouth strikes again
    And I've got no right to take my place
    With the Human race

    The Boy With a Horn in His Side

    Love this song... especially the yodeling.

    The boy with the thorn in his side
    Behind the hatred there lies
    A murderous desire for love

    There is a Light That Never Goes Out

    One of the greatest love songs ever recorded.

    And if a double-decker bus
    Crashes into us
    To die by your side
    Is such a heavenly way to die
    And if a ten-ton truck
    Kills the both of us
    To die by your side
    Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

    And in the darkened underpass
    I thought Oh God, my chance has come at last
    (But then a strange fear gripped me and I
    Just couldn't ask)


    I'm not sure what happiness means
    But I look in your eyes
    And I know that it isn't there

    So how can you call this a home
    When you know it's a grave?

    No heavenly choir
    Not for me and not for you

    The World Won't Listen
    ~ August 21, 2013


    If I showed you the video footage I took of me singing and dancing to this back in 2000, you'd kill yourself laughing.

    Burn down the disco
    Hang the blessed DJ
    Because the music that they constantly play

    On the Leeds side-streets that you slip down
    Provincial towns you jog 'round
    Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ, Hang the DJ


    One of my favorites. Playful. Fun.

    Shyness is nice and
    Shyness can stop you
    From doing all the things in life
    You'd like to

    Spending warm Summer days indoors
    Writing frightening verse
    To a buck toothed girl in Luxembourg

    Ask me, ask me, ask me

    Because if it's not Love
    Then it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb,
    the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb
    That will bring us together

    Nature is a language - can't you read ?

    Shoplifters of the World

    Learn to love me
    Assemble the ways
    Now, today, tomorrow and always
    My only weakness is a list of crime
    My only weakness is ... well, never mind, never mind


    I want you to know
    Deep in the cell of my heart
    I will feel so glad to go


    Another personal favorite.

    I know I'm unlovable
    You don't have to tell me
    I don't have much in my life
    But take it - it's yours

    I wear Black on the outside
    'Cause Black is how I feel on the inside

    And if I seem a little strange
    Well, that's because I am

    But I know that you would like me
    If only you could see me
    If only you could meet me

    Half A Person

    Call me morbid, call me pale
    Do you have a vacancy for a back-scrubber?"

    Sixteen, clumsy and shy
    The story of my life

    Rubber Ring

    A sad fact widely known
    The most impassionate song
    To a lonely soul
    Is so easily outgrown

    But don't forget the songs
    That made you smile
    And the songs that made you cry

    The passing of time
    And all of its crimes
    Is making me sad again

    Yes, you're older now
    And you're a clever swine
    But they were the only ones
    Who ever stood by you

    The passing of time
    Leaves empty lives
    Waiting to be filled

    And when you're dancing and laughing
    And finally living
    Hear my voice in your head
    And think of me kindly

    You're clever
    Everybody's clever nowadays

    You are sleeping
    You do not want to believe

    Louder Than Bombs ~ August 21, 2013

    Sheila Take a Bow

    How can someone so young
    Sing words so sad?

    Boot the grime of this world in the crotch, dear

    Throw your homework onto the fire

    Stretch Out and Wait

    My second favorite Smiths song.

    Nature must still find a way
    So ignore all the codes of the day
    Let your juvenile impulses sway

    God, how sex implores you
    To let yourself lose yourself

    Stretch out and wait
    Let your puny body, lie down, lie down
    As we lie, you say

    Will the world end in the night time?
    (I really don't know)
    Or will the world end in the day time?
    (I really don't know)

    Stretch out and wait
    There is no debate, no debate, no debate
    How can you consciously contemplate
    When there's no debate, no debate?
    Stretch out and wait

    Strangeways, Here We Come ~ August 22, 2013

    My favorite Smiths album. The first one I owned.

    A Rush and a Push and the Land is Ours

    They said :
    "There's too much caffeine
    In your bloodstream
    And a lack of real spice
    In your life"

    I Started Something Something I Couldn't Finish

    I doused our friendly venture
    With a hard-faced, three-word gesture

    Hair brushed and parted typical me, typical me, typical me
    I started something and now I'm not too sure

    Death of a Disco Dancer

    Love, peace and harmony?
    Very nice
    But maybe in the next world

    Girlfriend in a Coma

    There were times when I could
    Have "murdered" her
    (But you know, I would hate
    Anything to happen to her)

    Let me whisper my last goodbyes

    I know - IT'S SERIOUS

    Stop Me if You Think You've Heard This One Before

    I love Moz's lyrical narratives. This is a great one...

    Nothing's changed
    I still love you, oh, I still love you
    ...Only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love

    I was delayed, I was way-laid
    An emergency stop
    I smelt the last ten seconds of life
    I crashed down on the crossbar
    And the pain was enough to make
    A shy, bald, Buddhist reflect
    And plan a mass murder
    Who said lied I'd to her ?

    I was detained, I was restrained
    And broke my spleen
    And broke my knee
    (and then he really laced into me)
    Friday night in Out-patients

    Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

    Last night I dreamt
    That somebody loved me
    No hope, no harm
    Just another false alarm

    Unhappy Birthday

    I've come to wish you an unhappy birthday
    'Cause you're evil and you lie and if you should die
    I may feel slightly sad but I won't cry

    From the one you left behind

    Paint a Vulgar Picture

    The sycophantic slags all say :
    "I knew him first, and I knew him well"

    Re-issue! Re-package! Re-package!
    Re-evaluate the songs

    What makes most people feel happy
    Leads us headlong into harm

    I Won't Share You

    Probably a song that every single person who ever walked the planet can relate to. Simply beautful.

    The note I wrote
    As she read, she said
    "Has the Perrier gone
    Straight to my head
    Or is life sick and cruel, instead ?"

    Life tends to come and go
    That's OK
    As long as you know

    I won't share you
    I'll see you somewhere
    I'll see you sometime

    I Keep Mine Hidden

    I keep mine hidden
    But it's so easy for you
    Because you let yours flail
    Into public view
  • realitybites
    I love twisted things... things that are dark and dramatic and depressing yet humorous as well. When it comes to music, nobody, I mean NOBODY, writes depressing lyrics that are so belly-laughing funny, like Morrissey does. This is his greatest charm... attraction... what makes me love his music so much.

    I will listen to each Smiths album in its entirety, including the B-sides off the singles, and decide what I think is a hoot--in my current frame of mind. It is interesting how our take on a song changes with the seasons. We may not have found certain things funny ten years ago... such as growing old, until we can relate to it ourselves, perhaps. Of course, there are universals that will be hilarious forever... no matter what station in life we find ourselves. But I am relistening and reevaluating so that this project has an active, current, living feel about it. I will attempt to listen to at least one album a day.

    Moz solo albums Part I, Part II

    I will listen to the Smiths albums in chronological order. (Moz ones were listened to in reverse chronological order.)

    Part I is The Smiths - Meat is Murder. Part II is The Queen is Dead - Strangeways, Here We Come.

    This is going to be fun, as I absolutely adore every Smiths song. I really do. A strange misconception about Moz's lyrics, embraced by those who are not in the know, is that they make one feel depressed. Just the opposite. They make me feel happy. The humor, the irony, the tongue-in cheek witty lines, informs the listener that Moz is aware that all his self-depredation, complaining, and whining, is absurd. He's laughing at himself and all of life's complexities, and wants us to laugh with him, at him, and at ourselves as well. It's one big pity party and we are all participants. And because we are in on the joke, this makes us feel special and important and clever. And different, in a good way.


    The Smiths ~ August 19, 2013

    Reel Around the Fountain

    This hypersexual song has some of my favorite lyrics...

    Slap me on the patio
    I'll take it now

    Fifteen minutes with you
    Well, I wouldn't say no
    Oh, people said that you were virtually dead
    And they were so wrong

    Oh, people said that you were easily led
    And they were half-right

    I dreamt about you last night
    And I fell out of bed twice
    You can pin and mount me like a butterfly

    You've Got Everything Now

    No, I've never had a job
    Because I've never wanted one

    You are your mother's only son
    And you're a desperate one
    Oh ...

    But I don't want a lover
    I just want to be seen ... oh ... in the back of your car

    Miserable Lie

    So, goodbye
    Please stay with your own kind
    And I'll stay with mine

    There's something against us
    It's not time

    I look at yours, you laugh at mine
    And "love" is just a miserable lie

    And in that voice...

    I need advice, I need advice
    I need advice, I need advice
    Nobody ever looks at me twice
    Nobody ever looks at me twice

    Pretty Girls Make Graves

    "There is a quick and easy way" you say
    Before you illustrate
    I'd rather state:
    "I'm not the man you think I am
    I'm not the man you think I am"

    I could have been wild and I could have
    Been free
    But Nature played this trick on me

    She wants it Now
    And she will not wait
    But she's too rough
    And I'm too delicate

    Then, on the sand
    Another man, he takes her hand
    A smile lights up her stupid face
    (and well, it would)

    I lost my faith in Womanhood

    This Charming Man

    A punctured bicycle
    On a hillside desolate
    Will nature make a man of me yet?

    Why pamper life's complexity
    When the leather runs smooth
    On the passenger seat

    I would go out tonight
    But I haven't got a stitch to wear

    Still Ill

    I decree today that life
    Is simply taking and not giving
    England is mine - it owes me a living

    Does the body rule the mind
    Or does the mind rule the body?
    I don´t know...

    And if you must, go to work - tomorrow
    Well, if I were you I wouldn't bother
    For there are brighter sides to life
    And I should know, because I've seen them
    But not very often ...

    Hand in Glove

    And if the people stare
    Then the people stare
    Oh, I really don't know

    Yes, we may be hidden by rags
    But we've something they'll never have

    For the good life is out there somewhere
    So stay on my arm, you little charmer

    What Difference Does It Make?

    The devil will find work for idle hands to do
    But now you make me feel so ashamed
    Because I've only got two hands
    Well, I'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh

    But now you have gone
    And your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight

    Hatful of Hollow ~ August 20, 2013

    William it Was Really Nothing

    Oh, the rain falls hard on a humdrum town
    This town has dragged you down

    I don't dream about anyone - except myself !

    These Things Take Time

    And I know that I'm
    The most inept
    That ever stepped

    How Soon is Now?

    I am the son and the heir
    Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
    I am the son and heir
    Of the nothing in particular

    So you go and you stand on your own
    And you leave on your own
    And you go home
    And you cry and you want to die

    Handsome Devil

    There's more to life than books, you know
    But not much more

    Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

    One of my fave Smiths songs. The whole song is hilarious.

    I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour
    But heaven knows I'm miserable now

    I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
    And heaven knows I'm miserable now

    In my life
    Why do I give valuable time
    To people who don't care if I live or die?

    Two lovers entwined pass me by
    And heaven knows I'm miserable now

    In my life
    Why do I smile
    At people who I'd much rather kick in the eye?

    This Night Has Opened My Eyes

    One of the Smiths more somber songs, both lyrically and musically.

    She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool

    Accept Yourself

    Others conquered love - but I ran
    I sat in my room and I drew up a plan
    But plans can fall through as so often they do
    And time is against me now

    Girl Afraid

    Boy afraid
    Prudence never pays

    Meat is Murder ~ August 20, 2013

    This album is a masterpiece, to say the least.

    The Headmaster Ritual

    Absolutely adore this song. That yodeling is priceless. The lyrics are the epitome of dark humor at its finest.

    Belligerent ghouls
    Run Manchester schools

    Spineless swines
    Cemented minds

    Sir leads the troops
    Jealous of youth
    Same old suit since 1962

    He does the military two-step
    Down the nape of my neck

    I wanna go home
    I don't wanna stay
    Give up education
    As a bad mistake

    Mid-week on the playing fields
    Sir thwacks you on the knees

    Knees you in the groin
    Elbow in the face
    Bruises bigger than dinner plates

    He does the military two-step
    Down the nape of my neck

    Rusholme Ruffians

    I might walk home alone...
    ...But my faith in love is still devout

    From a seat on a whirling waltzer
    Her skirt ascends for a watching eye
    It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side)

    So...scratch my name on your arm with a fountain pen
    (This means you really love me)

    I Want the One I Can't Have

    On the day that your mentality
    Decides to try to catch up with your biology

    Cause I want the one I can't have
    And it's driving me mad

    And if you ever need self-validation
    Just meet me in the alley by the
    Railway station

    What She said

    What she said :
    "How come someone hasn't noticed
    That I'm dead
    And decided to bury me?

    What she said was sad
    But then, all the rejection she's had
    To pretend to be happy
    Could only be idiocy

    What she read
    All heady books
    She'd sit and prophesise
    (It took a tattooed boy from
    To really really open her eyes)

    What she said :
    "I smoke 'cos I'm hoping for an
    Early death

    That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore

    Time's tide will smother you

    It's too close to home
    And it's too near the bone

    Nowhere Fast

    I'd like to drop my trousers to the world
    I am a man of means (of slender means)
    Each household appliance
    Is like a new science in my town

    I'd like to drop my trousers to the Queen
    Every sensible child will know what this means

    And when I'm lying in my bed
    I think about life
    And I think about death
    And neither one particularly appeals to me

    Well I Wonder

    My favorite Smiths song.

    Well I wonder
    Do you hear me when you sleep?
    I hoarsely cry
    Why ...

    Well I wonder
    Do you see me when we pass?
    I half die ...
    Why ...

    Gasping - dying - but somehow still alive
    This is the final stand of all I am

    Please keep me in mind

    Well I wonder

    Barbarism Begins at Home

    Unruly girls
    Who will not settle down
    They must be taken in hand

    A crack on the head
    Is what you get for not asking
    Quando quando quando likes this.
  • realitybites
    This is Part II. Albums Southpaw Grammar - Viva Hate. See Part I here.

    I will listen to each album in its entirety, including the B-sides off the singles (and other tracks released, sung around that time), and decide what I think is a hoot--in my current frame of mind. It is interesting how our take on a song changes with the seasons. We may not have found certain things funny ten years ago... such as growing old, until we can relate to it ourselves, perhaps. Of course, there are universals that will be hilarious forever... no matter what station in life we find ourselves. But I am relistening and reevaluating so that this project has an active, current, living feel about it. I will attempt to listen to at least one album a day.


    Southpaw Grammar (2009 Expanded Edition) ~ August 16, 2013

    Reader Meet Author

    Oh, have you ever escaped from a shipwrecked life ?

    Best Friend on the Payroll

    I turn the music down
    And I don't know why
    This is my house

    The best friend on the payroll
    No, no, no, it's not gonna work out
    It's not gonna work out
    No, no, no, no

    Fantastic Bird

    What brings you down to earth?
    Ah yes, of course, yes, yes, it was a lack of applause

    Nobody Loves Us

    Sing us our
    Favourite song
    Nobody loves us
    Born-again athiests
    Practising troublemakers
    Make us our
    Favourite jam

    Vauxhall and I ~ August 17, 2013

    This album is a masterpiece from start to finish both lyrically and musically.

    Now My Heart is Full

    One of my favorite Solo songs.

    Tell all of my friends
    I don't have too many
    Just some rain-coated lovers'
    Puny brothers

    Loafing oafs in all-night chemists
    Underact - express depression

    Hold Onto Your Friends

    Why waste good time
    Fighting the people you like
    Who will fall defending your name
    Oh, don't feel so ashamed
    To have friends

    The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get

    I am now
    A central part
    Of your mind's landscape
    Whether you care
    Or do not
    Yeah, I've made up your mind

    The more you ignore me
    The closer I get

    When you sleep
    I will creep
    Into your thoughts
    Like a bad debt
    That you can't pay
    Take the easy way
    And give in
    Yeah, and let me in


    I've always been true to you
    In my own strange way
    I've always been true to you
    In my own sick way

    Your Arsenal ~ August 18, 2013

    The album kicks off with a great start... a little foreshadowing of what lies ahead. Love this whole album, start to finish.

    You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side

    And here I am
    And here I am
    Oh, well, you don't need
    To look so pleased!

    We'll Let You Know

    We'll let you know
    We'll let you know
    Oh, but only if - you're really interested

    Certain People I know

    I trust the views of
    Certain people I know
    They look at danger
    And they
    Laugh their heads off

    We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful

    If we can hurt them
    Well, we may as well...
    It's really laughable
    Ha, ha, ha...

    Seasick Yet Still Docked

    And you can tell I have never really loved
    You can tell, by the way, I sleep all day

    My love is as sharp as a needle in your eye
    You must be such a fool to pass me by


    Tomorrow, it's surely nearer now
    You don't think I'll make it
    I never said, I wanted to
    Well did I?

    Kill Uncle ~ August 19, 2013

    Our Frank

    Won't somebody stop me
    From thinking
    From thinking all the time
    About everything
    Oh, somebody
    From thinking all the time
    So deeply, so bleakly?
    So bleakly all the time
    About everything? (Who I am, how I ever got here)

    The Harsh Truth of the Camera Eye

    Showing what
    You didn't want shown

    This photographer
    He must have really had it in for you

    Bona Drag ~ August 20, 2013

    Great compilation album. Moz's solo equivalent to Louder Than Bombs?

    November Spawned a Monster

    A symbol of where mad, mad lovers
    Must PAUSE and draw the line

    Will Never Marry

    Probably the Moz song I relate to most. So beautiful.

    I'm writing this to say
    In a gentle way
    Thank you, but no

    Such a Little Thing Makes Such A Big Difference

    Such a little thing
    A gentle tone of kindness
    Or written words on paper
    - can you write ?

    Last of the International Playboys

    I never wanted to kill
    I am not naturally evil
    Such things I do
    Just to make myself
    More attractive to you
    Have I failed ?

    Yes I Am Blind

    Good Christians, they wanna kill you
    And your life has not even begun


    Young girl, one day you will be old
    But the thing is I love you now

    This is the last song I will ever sing
    No, I've changed my mind again

    Viva Hate (US) ~ August 20, 2013

    Everyday is Like Sunday

    Cold War nostalgia anyone? Adore this song.

    Trudging slowly over wet sand
    Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen

    Hide on the promenade
    Etch a postcard :
    "how I dearly wish I was not here"

    Trudging back over pebbles and sand
    And a strange dust lands on your hands
    (and on your face...)

    Late Night, Maudlin Street

    Where the world's ugliest boy
    Became what you see
    Here I am - the ugliest man

    So he drove me home in the van
    Complaining, "women only like me for my mind..."

    But you ... without clothes
    Oh, I could not keep a straight face
    Me - without clothes ?
    Well, a nation turns it's back and gags...
    I'm packed

    With "every hand waves me on"
    (secretly wishing me gone)


    You had to sneak into my room
    'just' to read my diary
    "It was just to see, just to see"
    (All the things you knew I'd written about you...)
    Oh, so many illustrations
    Oh, but
    I'm so very sickened
    Oh, I am so sickened now

    Oh, it was a good lay, good lay
    It was a good lay, good lay

    Hairdresser on Fire

    You are repressed
    But you're remarkably dressed

    I Don't Mind if You Forget Me

    Your mild 'best wishes'
    They make me suspicious

    Rejection is one thing
    But rejection from a fool
    Is cruel

    Dial - a - Cliché

    And you find that you've organised
    Your feelings, for people
    Who didn't like you then
    And do not like you now

    Margaret on the Guillotine

    The kind people
    Have a wonderful dream
    Margaret on the guillotine
  • realitybites
    I love twisted things... things that are dark and dramatic and depressing yet humorous as well. My favorite film director, Pedro Almodóvar, is a master at incorporating all these elements into his film masterpieces. When it comes to music, nobody, I mean NOBODY, writes depressing lyrics that are so belly-laughing funny, like Morrissey does. This is his greatest charm... attraction... what makes me love his music so much.

    Was just listening to Years of Refusal... and a few stood out. I really was belly laughing while listening. I'll start with that album. Then work my way through all the solo and Smiths albums... in reverse chronological order. I will listen to each album in its entirety, including the B-sides off the singles (and other tracks released, sung around that time), and decide what I think is a hoot--in my current frame of mind. It is interesting how our take on a song changes with the seasons. We may not have found certain things funny ten years ago... such as growing old, until we can relate to it ourselves, perhaps. Of course, there are universals that will be hilarious forever... no matter what station in life we find ourselves. But I am relistening and reevaluating so that this project has an active, current, living feel about it. I will attempt to listen to at least one album a day. So much culture to absorb... and comment on, so little time.

    Once I finish his solo albums, I will listen to the Smiths ones.

    Due to a limit on text length for each blog entry, my Solo albums will have to be divided in two separate entries.

    Part I is Years of Refusal - Maladjusted. Part II is Southpaw Grammar - Viva Hate.


    Years of Refusal ~ August 12, 2013

    Have not listened to this album in a while. Really enjoyed it. It is getting better with time. Some of the music arrangements are very nice and original. I particularly like the Spanish guitar in When Last I Spoke to Carol.

    It's Not Your Birthday Anymore

    All the gifts that they gave can't compare in any way
    To the love I am now giving to you
    Right here right now on the floor

    I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris

    In the absence of your love
    And in the absence of human touch
    I have decided

    I'm throwing my arms around
    Around Paris because
    Only stone and steel accept my love

    Ringleader of the Tormentors ~ August 12, 2013

    There is a lot of self-deprecating humor on this album. But you can't just read the lyrics to capture it. The songs must be heard. It's the WAY he sings the words.

    You Have Killed Me

    You have killed me, you have killed me
    Yes, I walk around somehow

    The Youngest Was the Most Loved

    Moz and kids singing...

    There is no such thing in life as normal
    There is no such thing in life as normal

    Life is a Pigsty

    Even now in the final hour of my life
    I’m falling in love again

    On the Streets I Ran

    Take anyone
    Take people from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
    Just spare me!

    To Me You Are a Work of Art

    To me you are a work of art
    And I would give you my heart
    That’s if I had one

    At Last I Am Born

    But now I just sit back and yawn
    Because I am born, born, born

    You Are the Quarry ~ August 13, 2013

    My favorite solo album. There is one song that, although quite beautifully sung with gorgeous music, has lyrics which make me cringe just a little. Can you guess which one? Quarry is not as tongue- in-cheek as some of Moz's other albums. It is more serious, it seems. Yet there are a few humorous gems to be found.

    Come Back to Camden

    Maybe not so much funny, but clever indeed. These careful lyrics remind the listener that there is a witty man with a wonderful sense of humor behind them.

    Drinking tea with the taste of the Thames
    Sullenly on a chair on the pavement

    How Could Anybody Possibly Know How I Feel

    This one is fully loaded...

    She told me she loved me
    Which means she must be insane

    They said they respect me
    Which means their judgment is crazy

    He said he wants to befriend me
    Which means he can't possibly know me

    Even I, as sick as I am, I would never be you
    Even I, sick and depraved, a traveler to the grave
    I would never be you
    I would never be you

    First of the Gang to Die

    And you have never been in love
    Until you've seen the dawn rise
    Behind the home for the blind

    You have never been in love
    Until you've seen the sunlight thrown
    Over smashed human bones

    Let Me Kiss You

    So, close your eyes
    And think of someone you physically admire
    And let me kiss you, oh

    But then you open your eyes
    And you see someone that you physically despise
    But my heart is open
    My heart is open to you

    I Like You

    No one I ever knew
    Or have spoken to resembles you
    This is good or bad
    All depending on my general mood

    You're not right in the head,
    and nor am I, and this is why

    This is why I like you, I like you, I like you
    This is why I like you, I like you, I like you

    You Know I couldn't Last

    The teenagers
    Who love you
    They will wake up, yawn and kill you

    It's Hard to Walk Tall When You're Small

    I attack from the back
    Because it's easy
    And I can assail
    While wearing very nice jewelry

    I burst into
    Public baths
    And I throw my weight around
    And no one can even see me
    No one can even see me

    My Early Burglary Years ~ August 14, 2013

    Sister I'm a Poet

    Outside the prison gates
    I love the romance of crime

    Girl Least Likely To

    And there's enough gloom in her world, I'm certain
    Without my contribution

    Jack the Ripper

    One of my all time fave Moz songs... still.

    Your face is as mean
    As your life has been

    Crash into my arms
    You don't agree
    But you don't refuse

    Suedehead: The Best of Morrissey ~ August 15, 2013

    Pregnant For the Last Time

    This song is a riot. Love it. Packed with hilarious lines.

    Phlegm lapels for the last time
    Corn beef legs for the last time

    Chips with cream for the last time
    The People's Friend for the last time

    Tiny striped socks for the last time
    Pokes and prods for the last time

    But then you see someone new
    And you want someone new
    So you have someone new
    I don't blame you
    We would all do the same as you
    If ever we had the chance to

    Bad advice for the last time
    And people being nice for the very first time
    Oh, we're so glad

    Maladjusted (2009 remaster) ~ August 15, 2013

    The additions of I Can Have Both and I Am a Was strengthen this album considerably.


    When the gulf between
    All the things I need
    And the things I receive
    Is an ancient ocean
    Wide, wild, lost, uncrossed

    Trouble Loves Me

    Ready with ready-wit
    Still running 'round
    On the flesh rampage
    - At your age !

    Then at midnight I
    Can't get you out of my head
    A disenchanted taste
    Still running 'round

    He Cried

    People where I come from
    They survive without feelings or blood
    I never could
    Was stoned to death
    But I'm still living

    Wide to Receive

    The way Moz sings wide again and again in a sullen moaning voice is priceless. Makes this song a real gem.

    I'm lying here
    Wide to receive
    Almost anything
    You'd care to leave
    Wide, wide, wide

    I Can Have Both

    I can have both
    There's nobody around to say no
    Who've brain-washed the small shy boy inside
    He doesn't know he can have both

    Now I Am a Was

    Once I was so smugly
    Foremost in your thoughts
    Me - with a talent for
    Making you cry

    So, now I am a was
    Now I am a was

    Satan Rejected My Soul

    The happy music that accompanies the lyrics is what makes this song so twisted. The way Moz sings come on, come on, makes this otherwise serious song, rather playful.

    All the fun in life it's cost me
    Satan rejected my soul
    As low as he goes
    He never quite goes this low

    Come on, come on, ah
    Come on, come on, come on

    Sorrow Will Come in the End

    The sound of a cracking whip in between the words lawyer and liar... dark, humorous... perfect.

    Lawyer ...liar
    Lawyer ...liar
  • realitybites
    You do not want to believe.
    You are sleeping.

    Not any longer. Looking back on that salient year, 2004, has reignited a passion... a passion for accepting the truth. The truth that, as much as I have denied the fact or teased others about it, Morrissey's music has indeed saved my life. Maybe not literally. His songs have never loosened the noose, compelled me to drop the blade, or uncock the pistol. But figuratively they have. During my darkest hours, he has made me feel connected, understood, not so lonely.

    I have always claimed that I don't need anyone's approval. But honestly, this is not entirely true. What IS true is that I don't seek approval for things which I do not value... traits, qualities that are not important to my identity or self-esteem. But I do want to be cherished, loved, and admired for the things I do care about.

    Morrissey's lyrics make me feel understood, accepted. Like I am not the only weirdo in the universe. If this gorgeous, brilliant man feels this way too, then, well, I am not so alone. No other, I mean no one--poet or lyricist, has had this impact on me. Not even close. Not Tom Smith, Eddie Vedder, Michael Stipe, Nick Drake, or even Robert Smith.

    The passing of time
    Leaves empty lives
    Waiting to be filled...

    More, more, more! So easily our cups run dry. Why do we need constant updates... reminders of how great Morrissey's music is? Is the back catalog not enough? The fans are like drug addicts... always looking for the next fix... the next great, new song, or great performance. What if it never happens again? What if Morrissey will never write another song? Or grace a stage again? Well, being that he thrives of performing live in front of an audience, this would be sad. But for HIM... not ME. I am okay with the back catalog. I really am.

    And when you're dancing and laughing
    And finally living
    Hear my voice in your head
    And think of me kindly

    I am in a better place today than I was in 2004 when Moz's music was the soundtrack in my head. Playing, soothing, reassuring.

    I will always have his songs. I could die a happy woman, if I only had ten of them to hear for the rest of my life. And, even if I could not see him sing them again--live or on video. The sound of his voice, and the lyrics, alone, would really be enough. They really would.

    The passing of time
    And all of its sickening crimes...

    Morrissey is aging. Last time I looked in the mirror I decided I was too. It is a sad reality for every human that has ever lived. Morrissey may have serious health problems now or in the near future. Christopher Hitchens died six months after being diagnosed with esophageal cancer. The medical significance of Barrett's esophagus is its strong association with esophageal adenocarcinoma, a particularly lethal cancer. You know where I am going with that.

    I don't want to lose another important artist again (I cringe using the term, hero.) I do hope Moz's health returns. It is greedy and selfish to expect him to produce more... hasn't he given me enough?

    Though, I have to admit there is nothing more I'd like to read than his autobiography. The TIME is perfect for him to finish writing it... and share it with the rest of us. Hitchens penned and published his, Hitch-22, just a year before his death. Not saying... but still. I don't want him to lose an opportunity to share himself with us. That is, if that is what he wants to do. Life is short... for all of us.

    The truth is, Morrissey, nothing's changed. I still love you, oh, I still love you... and not even slightly less than I used to.

    Here is a little song, to remind myself, in case I were to ever forget, again...

    Rubber Ring

    For M. x
  • realitybites
    Morrissey is not my hero.

    Christopher Hitchens came close. But even he was a very flawed person. He drank too much, smoked too much, and wrote an essay that argued women weren't funny. Nobody is perfect.

    But Hitch and I had a lot in common. So I think he would have made great company. Many state just that. That he lit up the room, was highly entertaining, and could hold court into the wee hours... never losing his edge. People adored him. He was charming and charismatic... but most of all, gracious.

    Gracious is not a trait I associate with Morrissey... unless we are talking about animals, of course. Anyone who requests a fellow being to salt his fries so that he may be spared illness (imaginary, of course), is not someone I'd like to pal around with. Nor could I revere such a person. This act alone demonstrates a serious flaw in his moral character, imo. And before you say that this incident is unsubstantiated (as I have heard claimed before), it was reported in a magazine. If it was false, Morrissey would have let us know via TTY. It happened folks. That is who he is. He is fussy, demanding, and probably has some OCD traits. Not fun company. Not hero-like.

    When I first discovered Morrissey... the young, sexy vocalist, who penned and sang the most unique and witty lyrics I had ever heard... I was fascinated... obsessed with his image... his persona. I wanted to know everything about him. And so I literally read every article and interview I could find. I learned much. Then I found Solo... and became a part of a community of fans. I have learned so much more about his music and history since then.

    In 2005, I began to feel disillusioned. I realized that Morrissey was not the man I thought he was--hoped he was. His boycotting of Canada, talks of playing in Iran, remarks about the Norway shootings etc... changed my perception of him. I no longer saw him as a voice for me or my beliefs. I realized that we were different... very different. Our moral compasses pointed in different directions. He was not, nor could ever be a hero because I did not look up to him nor respect his thinking or way of life. He was not an ambassador for any meaningful cause... except animal rights. And even then, it seemed more self-serving than selfless.

    And at the same time, I was discovering Hitchens. So the contrast of these two icons made it all the more apparent.

    Morrissey is tops in my book as a brilliant and talented lyricist, vocalist, and stage presence. But he is not worthy of hero status. Heroes are folks who stick their necks out, serve as role models, fight for human rights and injustices... change the world... inspire others to make changes for the greater good.

    Many of the fawning sycophants here claim they ARE inspired by Morrissey. His lyrics saved their lives, helped them through troubled times, made them give up eating meat. Great. But this is all very subjective and has no bearing outside of one's bedroom unless it is applied to accomplishing things that help others and make our world a better and more interesting place. What great accomplishments achieved by his fans, which serve the greater good of humanity, are the result of listening to his music or adopting his views?

    We are told not to eat meat, to hate David and Victoria Beckham, and to see the Royal Family as evil. And then what? Give to charity? Help the homeless? Educate the illiterate? Build homes in disaster torn areas? Help raise money for the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation? Nope. None of these things. Morrissey tells us to not eat meat, hate certain celebrities that he feels have not earned their statuses, buy his music... including the reissues, and fork out big bucks for concert tickets without any guarantee of a performance. That's it. How is this being a role model worthy of hero status?

    So anyhow, no, I don't desire to meet Morrissey. If I did, I would not place him on a pedestal or ask for his autograph. He is no better than I. Different? Yes. But more worthy as a human being? No. Of course, I don't worship any TV, film, or musical celebrities. I see them for who they are--talented entertainers with gifts bestowed upon them by mother nature. Lucky folks who have embraced their talents and worked hard to nurture them and share the fruits of their labor with the rest of us. Wonderful! The world is a more interesting and amusing place as a result.

    Why am I here, on Solo, if I don't think Morrissey is a god worthy of blind adoration? Because I love his music and I enjoy interacting with other folks who do as well. So please don't tell me I have no business being here. I do.
  • realitybites
    Last night it snowed. Of course it didn't stick. But it was a nice present to wake to. Snow is still visible on the mountains yonder.


    Speaking of presents, I just returned from the post office. Look what I found in my box... a card from Uncleskinny. Along with the card, was a cute button that says How Soon is Snow? What timing eh... card and snow on the same day? Doing the happy dance!


    Apologies for the crappy, blurry pics--camera phone. Regular camera has been acting up for months now. I think I messed up the settings and am clueless as to how to fix them. Maybe my son will be able to help when he visits for the holidays. Until then...