“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Tuesday, February 25, 2003

So anyway I'm in the study this morning pondering over many a currious tome of forgotten lore and over the airwaves comes a song that I'd not heard in years. It was nice to hear again. Like seeing an old friend after a long time apart. But after a few moments I realized what song, and more importantly, what BAND it was. GREAT-FUCKING-WHITE. Yes kiddies, that's right, if you negligently kill a whole lot of people YOU CAN BE ON THE RADIO. That's all you have to do to be a celebrity now. Talent means nothing, inteligence and merit mean nothing, good taste means NOTHING. But if you're in a marginally talented, has-been, 80's hair band and you kill a bunch of people, now we're fuckin' talking!


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