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The music industry is lying to you |
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it is telling you that you are excited |
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and you ARE excited |
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and you ARE excited |
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Or rather you have confused excitement, |
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with the fear of missing out. |
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Which is understandable as these two feelings |
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are very closely related! |
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Focusing, as they do, on the heart and the groin |
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and ending in a bloody mess - pregnancy tests |
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and too little sleep. |
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Our survey says that shouting inanities |
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in a regional accent is valuable to culture - |
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look at Eastenders, Soccer AM, |
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or the queen's speech! |
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Our survey says paedophiles run the BBC |
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but look at the alternatives! |
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Drowning men, clutching at straws through |
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their bell-end helmets |
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Sad women, dreaming of being owned by them |
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Their children, eventual despoilers of high streets |
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clad head to toe in menstrual blood |
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Screaming sexual insults into bedroom mirrors |
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in the sad belief that it will empower them |
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And it will empower them! |
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And it will empower them! |
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At least that's what it says on my cereal packet. |
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That's what it says on my receipt from the apple store. |
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(Good lord!) |
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I cannot identify the bloodied bodies of my loved ones - |
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they were killed whilst watching a new television show |
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on the MTV network, |
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one where Kim Kardashian is chased through woodland |
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by a giant bear wearing a mask which carries the visage |
|
of recently deceased film director Michael Winner. |
|
The bear has apparently not qualified for a work place |
|
pension and is angry with Daniel Day-Lewis for what he |
|
perceives to be the relative lack of action in |
|
'There Will Be Blood' ..., which he otherwise enjoyed |
|
but found a little precious for his tastes. |
|
Anyway, after twenty minutes of panicked running around |
|
intercut with interviews with friends and other celebrities |
|
the production team behind the show all simultaneously |
|
come to the same horrifying conclusion - |
|
They have wasted the precious gift of life which has been |
|
given to them by science! |
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They start attacking themselves with the nearest available |
|
objects, breaking off camera tripods to ram them bloodily |
|
into each other's eyes, climbing up the highest branches |
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of trees to fall face down onto the pulsing earth |
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The whole time shrieking and screaming with the sudden, |
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primal vigour of lost souls who have forgotten language, |
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and seem intent on shouting their black hearts from |
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their grey ... Semi-erect chests. |
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They face the pigs |
|
They face the pigs they were |
|
They face the pigs |
|
They face the pigs they were |
|
Anyway, my family members, otherwise enjoying a |
|
restful sunday afternoon spent basking in the |
|
christian lie of a benevolent and loving god, |
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witness this horror through the prism of their television set |
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Concentrated howl of psychic and bloodie anguish which |
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has utterly enveloped the unlikely woodland scene is |
|
transmitted directly into the heart of our living room ... |
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And it bursts from the screen |
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And into their eyes and their hearts |
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And their minds and their tits |
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And their bits |
|
And it bursts from the screen |
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And into their eyes and their hearts |
|
And their minds and their tits |
|
And their bits |
|
(I don't mind, why do you?) |
|
And it bursts from the screen |
|
And into their eyes and their hearts |
|
And their minds and their tits |
|
And their bits |
|
(I don't mind, why do you?) |
|
And it bursts from the screen |
|
And into their eyes and their hearts |
|
And their minds and their tits |
|
And their bits |
|
(I don't mind, why do you?) |
|
And it bursts from the screen |
|
And into their eyes and their hearts |
|
And their minds and their tits |
|
And their bits |
|
(I don't mind, why do you?) |
|
And it bursts from the screen |
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And into their eyes and their hearts |
|
And their minds and their tits |
|
And their bits |
|
... Sobs. Echo. Off their foreheads. |
