I do a little garden work, teach a few lessons, do a little reading, turn on my computer and have a message that Simps is lying about me at Escahton. Typical day.
Here's the thing, Stupy, I CAN'T EDIT THE COMMENTS I CHOOSE TO POST EXCEPT MY OWN. THE SIMPlistic COMMENTS I POST ARE WHAT YOU TYPED IN, I CAN'T EDIT THEM AND THEY'RE SO STUPID THAT I DON'T HAVE TO EDIT THEM TO SHOW WHAT A HORSE'S ASS YOU ARE. YOU DO THAT ALL ON YOUR OWN.
The comment system that came with this blog format doesn't allow me to do anything with comments I've chosen to post except delete them. If I want to edit my comments I edit those, delete the original - which I do ONLY IF SOMEONE HASN'T ALREADY COMMENTED ON WHAT I SAID IN ONE - and post the revised version.
You don't have to worry, Stupy, no one at Duncan's Cash Cow that he keeps only to pretend he's got a job bothers to read what anyone else says, they don't even read Duncan's Tweet length production.
BTW, you philistine snob ignoramus, there's another reason why "Be My Baby" -- the record -- is a work of art.
ReplyDeleteRonnie Spector's vocal. And you'd know that if you weren't also deaf.
"Ronnie Spector's vocal." Unless you mean that 's to be a contraction of "is" there is no predicate in that "sentence". Since you fancy yourself a writing critic, both as yourself and as "Zod".
Delete"Be My Baby" is pop junk, ephemeral, unchallenging and trivial. It's being declared to be "art" is due more to Phil Spector's power as a businessman than it is the modest merits of the song. And it stands as a monument to the utter silliness that pop music "criticism" is. Your claim to fame.
I had my hearing tested recently, the audiologist was shocked to find that I have no age-related deficit in my hearing acuity. He said I ranged in the top 1% of the population. I haven't done an ear-training test since I was an undergrad but I was considered to be very good for someone who wasn't born with perfect pitch. You see, unlike you, my hearing ability has been and continues to be an important part of my work life. All you needed to do was butter up the right people and say the predictable things, what being a pop music critic mostly consists of, coming up with the occasional gaudy phrase or metaphor being most of the rest of it.
I'm posting this only because it's a holiday. Don't get used to it, Stupy.
Just when I conclude that you can't possibly be as big a cretin as I think you are, you post stuff -- like the above -- that proves conclusively that you were abandoned in the woods at a tender age and raised by a pack of stray soda can pull-tabs.
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, only the scion of said beverage refuse could fail to understand that the word "deaf" in the context it was used by me clearly referred to your inability to comprehend the beauty of the record in question, not that you might have huge deposits of wax in your ears.
Second of all, "Ronnie Spector's vocal" is a simple example of a thing that, unlike your alleged brain, actually exists. The fact that you can't comprehend that is further proof that a neatly slivered section of your medulla oblongata would fetch top dollar at medical research labs around the world.
The cheaper the blog rat the gaudier the patter.
DeleteThere were no soda can pull tabs during you younger years. You're old enough to know that but I guess your dementia blocked your access to those memories.
"Ronnie Spector's vocal." still doesn't have a predicate. I think to be a sentence that makes sense it would have to have a predicate nominative or an object of the verb but I'm not curious enough to test that idea.
Why not give me another figure of pop-music over adulation to make fun of, this is getting old.
By the way, Ronnie Spector was rather horrifically abused by your hero, Phil, she had to run away in her bare feet as I recall the story, she probably would have been murdered if he caught her. Pop music promotes such oppressive gender roles, I think it's probably responsible for entirely more misery among women than the worst of religion can be discredited with. Be My Baby, Ronnie's relationship with Phil didn't exactly come off the way the song advocates, especially that "I will adore you till eternity" crap, though it might have suckered her into overlooking that the guy was a pathological maniac long enough to get suckered in. So much of pop music of that period was like that. But we've talked about Bert and David recently, so choose someone else for me to make you get all puffed up with indignation about.
The cheaper the blog rat the gaudier the patter.
DeleteThere were no soda can pull tabs during my younger years. You're old enough to know that but I guess your dementia blocked your access to those memories.
"Ronnie Spector's vocal." still doesn't have a predicate. I think to be a sentence that makes sense it would have to have a predicate nominative or an object of the verb but I'm not curious enough to test that idea.
Why not give me another figure of pop-music over adulation to make fun of, this is getting old.
By the way, Ronnie Spector was rather horrifically abused by your hero, Phil, she had to run away in her bare feet as I recall the story, she probably would have been murdered if he caught her. Pop music promotes such oppressive gender roles, I think it's probably responsible for entirely more misery among women than the worst of religion can be discredited with. Be My Baby, Ronnie's relationship with Phil didn't exactly come off the way the song advocates, especially that "I will adore you till eternity" crap, though it might have suckered her into overlooking that the guy was a pathological maniac long enough to get suckered in. So much of pop music of that period was like that. But we've talked about Bert and David recently, so choose someone else for me to make you get all puffed up with indignation about.
See, Stupy, that's how I can edit my comments but not yours.
Delete"There were no soda can pull tabs during my younger years. You're old enough to know that but I guess your dementia blocked your access to those memories."
ReplyDeleteYes, because a joke has to be historically accurate.
Once again, you demonstrate that not only are you the leading asshole on the East Coast, but that you have no conception of how humor works. Kudos, Sparkles!
BTW, the idea that we can't enjoy records whose producers were mean to their spouses is profoundly stupid even by your debased standards.
The only joke you've got is in your pants. That thing on the other side from where you keep your head.
DeleteYou can enjoy whatever you want to, why did you ever think you needed my permission to do that? You can use up all the crap, that means all the less for me. And I can point out that it's crap pretentiously presented by scribblers like you who write about commercial ephemera pretending it's high art because you're too stupid to write about art, even the pedestrian stuff.
If Phil the lady killer had never put people up to it, no one would pretend that stuff is more than it is.