‘It’ never never happened =
Bernie #notmeus continues now and after the virus
Beatles For Sale
“Beatles For Sale” (December 1964) was The Beatles’ fourth album, following “Please Please Me” (March 1963), “With The Beatles” (November 1963), and most importantly, “A Hard Day’s Night” (July 1964). “Beatles For Sale” clearly marks the transition from cute mop-topism to . .
Dreaming
In and outside of dreamscapes, over
subconscious marine events, neither flying nor removed
from flight, written words appear in time . .
Who’s Next
‘Who’s Next’ was released first in the U.S.A. in August 1971, and then in the U.K. later that same month. This, The Who’s fifth studio album, is widely regarded as one of the greatest rock albums of all time. It has achieved both critical acclaim and financial success . .
The Jam - Sound Affects
Paul Weller has stated that 'Down in the Tubestation at Midnight' started off as a poem. As early as 'All Mod Cons' fans were sending Paul poems, some of which Paul published in a fanzine. Paul has been influenced by poetry for a long time . .
Lennon v McCartney
Please note that the following review of the album ‘Lennon v McCartney’ is a review of an album which does not actually exist in this world (although there are many possible worlds in which it does exist). The fact of the album’s non-existence in this world is beyond our control.
Joni Mitchell – Blue
Towards A Theory Of Cymbalism
All I Want
A statement of desire. Let us begin by noting that words are not themselves the ultimate objects of desire; rather, we find that words are found wanting. What is it that words desire? Form, content, syntax, semantics, structure? Again, these words are not themselves the objects of desire – they too are found wanting. No mere symbol is the obect of desire of another symbol. As against this, it is our contention that words are cymbals, which desire to crash with each passionate heart-beat. That is to say, words that are found wanting have desires (not objects) as their object.
The Case Against Hillary Clinton
Why on earth would we choose to put the Clinton family drama at the center of our politics again?
By Christopher Hitchens
Seeing the name Hillary in a headline last week—a headline about a life that had involved real achievement—I felt a mouse stirring in the attic of my memory. Eventually, I was able to recall how the two Hillarys had once been mentionable in the same breath. On a first-lady goodwill tour of Asia in April 1995—the kind of banal trip that she now claims as part of her foreign-policy "experience"—Mrs. Clinton had been in Nepal and been briefly introduced to the late Sir Edmund Hillary, conqueror of Mount Everest. Ever ready to milk the moment, she announced that her mother had actually named her for this famous and intrepid explorer. The claim "worked" well enough to be repeated at other stops and even showed up in Bill Clinton's memoirs almost a decade later, as one more instance of the gutsy tradition that undergirds the junior senator from New York. Sen. Clinton was born in 1947, and Sir Edmund Hillary and his partner Tenzing Norgay did not ascend Mount Everest until 1953, so the story was self-evidently untrue and eventually yielded to fact-checking.
