From: De Eye-lands, Mon
Hello there, A musician, if you consider the normal pattern of civilized life, is outside of it all. He doesn’t build things, he doesn’t work regular hours like a decent, God fearing citizen, and the life he leads seems, in many ways, useless and irrelevant to those of us who prefer a quiet evening in front of the telly, and a bottle of beer. Amazing as it might seem to some of us, musicians have basic physical needs just like real people. Many of them study for years, learning to play the violin, for instance, only to be rewarded with a hum drum job in the fourth row of the symphonic string section.
That’s why the Govt has constructed, at great expense, this experimental orientation facility. To find a way, perhaps, to retrain these useless old musicians, with their brown fiddles, and little horns, and give them a trade, a reason to exist in the modern world, a chance of a happier and more productive life.
Some will enter the military, some will learn shorthand, and some will disappear, in the middle of the night, on a special train they’re sending in. It’s the only way, really, to bring about the final solution to the “Orchestra Question”.
Now ’m sure that many of us realize the a pop group can earn a vast amount of money, compared to those “other’ kinds of musicians. That’s why the Govt Agency for Mass Stultification preferred to treat them in a more subtle manner. They know, just as many of you vigilant and thoroughly upstanding citizens have discovered for yourselves; that the power of Pop Music to corrupt and putrefy the minds of youth, is virtually limitless.
“Oooh the way you love me baby, I get so hard now I could die,
“Oooh the way you love me sugar, I get so hard now I could die,
Open up your pocket book;
Get another quarter out,
Drop it in the meter, Momma,
Try me on for size.
Frank, Flo & Eddie and Ainsley Dunbar.
< Message edited by Symon -- 2/11/2013 10:38:33 PM >
Nous n'avons pas peur! Vive la liberté! Moi aussi je suis Charlie!
Yippy Ki Yay.