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Saturday, 19 August 2017

Day 2265 - On my radio

Last Friday I wrote about a photograph of a transistor radio that Morrissey's producer, Joe Chiccarelli, had posted on twitter. I had failed to see that Chiccarelli had also tweeted the words, "Mixing for radio. 50 years ago."

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On my last blog entry of two days ago, I reported that Morrissey had played the song, Just Couldn't Resist Her With Her Pocket Transistor, and girlwithout (GWO) left a comment saying that perhaps this was a nod to Joe's tweet.

Morfessa collared me in the toilets of The Wrong Arms on Thursday morning and whispered, "Clever girlwithout."


Could it be that Morrissey is telling us that the new song, All The Young People, includes a sample of Alma Cogan? Or perhaps a sample of a song from 50 years ago? Is the song a nod to Bowie's All The Young Dudes, which is incredibly now 45 years old. Or did Joe have the transistor in the mixing studio to add some radio interference, like the sample at the beginning of I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday? I put this last question to Morfessa on Thursday evening, and got the reply, "Perhaps. Who knows?"

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Morfessa also instructed me to remove comments that had been left on my blog by Chuck, who had turned up to post some ridiculous theory about the new Twin Peaks series being linked to MorrisseysWorld, and to denounce Morfessa as a fraud. Morfessa also added, "Chuck is still banned", which makes perfect sense, as Chuck only ever brings discord to our small little group, and seems incapable of accepting that just because the online Morrissey doesn't behave exactly as she believes Morrissey should/would behave, then it can't be him. Morfessa took to The Arms to play Morrissey's I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, which perhaps Chuck and certain others should take note of.

Yesterday evening I played I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday on the jukebox in The Arms. Morfessa favourited my tweet. Morfessa doesn't usually favourite tweets of songs I play. Hmmm.

And finally, The Wrong Arms has a new resident DJ. I killed Fluff off a few weeks ago, and we now have Robert 'Bitchy Bobby' Neville (@geniussteals) installed behind the wheels of steel. He's still a cunt, but now at least, he's our cunt. Morfessa greeted the arrival of Bitchy Bob by playing Susan Maughn's Bobby's Girl on the jukebox - tart!

Wednesday, 16 August 2017

Day 2262 - The journey of discovery

The Mozziah has made a couple of very brief appearances in The Wrong Arms over the past few days, although mainly in the ladies room - it must be a bladder problem!

Whilst in the ladies room this morning, I asked Morfessa to give me something to write about on FTM, and got the reply, "But I have!"
When I asked what, M came back with, "Journey. Of. Discovery. Remember?"

Of course I didn't remember, I can only just about remember what I had for breakfast this morning, but thanks to google, I realise that Morrissey is referring to a comment left on FTM by Dawn Mist on May 4th, as reported by me on Day 2159 - May 5th.

The comment in question seemed to be no more than a pouring out of random dreamy words - many of which I'd never seen/heard before, such as: purview, caliginous, crepuscular and tenebrous - but as I re-read it now, then perhaps the comment contained a message. The comment is four paragraphs long, and is definitely full of poetic throw away lines, but the following sentences are for some reason now jumping out at me:

"The lost years are lost only in name only, save yourself the burden of struggle and embrace the lost years with me."

"The journey of discovery is a discovery of the most personal. Pursue the purview."

"The all fall and leave only temporary fragments of their reality. Things have happened and tried to happen again, almost but not quite."

"Archives once lost have come to our attention"

"A personal archive holding treasures not yet seen and not ever to be believed."

"Do you dare step from the comfort of the known?"

"I need comfort and a chest to rest my head instead of the hollow bed"

"Gratification will never come when we wait for it. Yet still I wait."

"An opportunity for untold drama and disaster is what I see. Do not forget that discomfort is either a condition of the brain or a condition of the thing less well thought of as a heart."

"I ride in aeroplanes; you cannot find the strength to mount a donkey."

What does it all mean? Is any of it Johnny related? I'm jiggered if I know!

And whilst on the subject of Johnny, we have now just past the 30th anniversary of the break up of the Smiths.... 30 BLOODY YEARS! I still remember exactly where I was when I heard the news on the radio, and yes, I cried.
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Morfessa's public tweets have been pretty few and far between. On Sunday, at 1.40am, Morfessa tweeted:
"Why tell stories? It's preferable to write your own destiny."

The time of the tweet, and other recent tweets of similar time, made me wonder if Morrissey was in fact in LA, but when I posted a tweet yesterday to ask if this was the case, he replied, "Oh là là!", so I take it from that, he remains lost in France.

Morfessa also played a song on the jukebox yesterday - Just Couldn't Resist Her With Her Pocket Transistor by Alma Cogan, which includes the line, "though there's a million girls in town, Johnny lets them all go by, his heart belongs to only one, and here's the reason why..." - is there anything to be read into these lyrics?

Friday, 11 August 2017

Day 2257 - "Fragile as a baby"

All has been very quiet on the Moz front for the past few weeks. It is rumoured that he is in France, with the new elpee being mixed at La Fabrique studios in France. A photo-tweet posted by producer Joe Chiccarelli from La Fab has perhaps let slip that there is a song on the album entitled, All the Young People, or it could in fact be the title of the album. There was certainly no such song title on Dawn Mist's list that was posted on FTM in June.

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And on the subject of absent Morrissey's and Dawn Mist, a new post appeared yesterday on Dawn Mist's website, slightdawnmist.blogspot.com. The piece is entitled, From Nowhere and a New Adventure, and is rather poetic..... well Morrissey is the Stressford Poet. Here it is:

Thursday, 10 August 2017


From Nowhere and a New Adventure 



Beg my indulgence, indulge me with your begs. Stand up on dead legs and leg it for dead. Suffocating under the berating hatred that we all have in us. Amongst us and against us. What do we become when we finally realise we are nothing. Do we carry on or do we stop. If we stop does anyone notice? We can shuffle off the earth into dirt and into space and nobody may shed a tear. Waiting for the weighting of our insignificance for none of us have any significance. Recognition is arbitrary and I am the arbiter of the ass-backwards human abattoir. Men believe they are emasculated by showing emotions yet they do not know that emotions are the masculator.  Previously they were protected by bully-boy bravado in a 'peaceful' project of proclivity poised in a prattle battle of perfection; little did they know we all have a presupposed direction whatever the promotion of solvent values. I am pained to pass on this precise potent snippet of the absurdity of the abused de-masculated but gossip is gossip and clacking tongues must waggle and snuggle on the grim of the rim of the mouth.  

Heroes blinded by their natural order. Blinded by the natural order of graft. Blighted by the incoming shipments of arrogance and self-doubt. If you miss it you have probably never seen it and that, I am afraid, is your own fault. I will not be held accountable for your lack of insight. I hold you accountable for the books of loss.  Petrified by the darkness and putrefied by the light.  Man's manhood dropped into the  putrescent mass of those in the streets. In the streets and never in the sheets. Sheets are to be kept clean unlike the filth and squalor of the mind. In the permanent vision there is gangrene sheen of the gangrenous cog. I'm not sure what I'm doing here just rolling over time like children roll over and die. All I wanted was a hearth and home in a not distant time zone but alas, NO.

Negation negates the needs to say no in a final blow of snow like purity. The only chance of escape is the early salvation you experience in the cradle even though in the future you will regard these as mere scraps of crumbs from the table of the afterthought.  Disgust is all we are after, distrust is all I receive. 

Yours,


Fragile as a baby. 


Hollow and decrepit



As heartbreaking as it may be for some to read Morrissey signing off, "fragile as a baby", it is that fragility that has made him the person we all adore. No doubt the new film, England is Mine; which puts Morrissey's teen/early twenties years under the spotlight, has added to that fragility, and the words to the piece above certainly seem to suggest that Morrissey is once again pondering the meaning of life.... although he is wise enough nowadays to realise that life has no purpose, and we all continue to soldier on in whatever fashion we see fit.

For the vast majority of mankind, that 'fashion' of existence is 'Work until you drop' - Morrissey has at least worked out that such an existence isn't for him. It really is quite bizarre that the human race has bought into an existence whereby you work until you drop - why is it that so few question this programming? Why is it that so few question anything?

On the subject of the film, I have surprised myself in that I have made no effort whatsoever to go and see it. I was the same when the book The Severed Alliance came out, and although someone ended up giving it to me for Christmas, I still never bothered to read it. I suppose if the film were to be shown on the telly, then I would probably watch it, but it is the real 2017 Morrissey that fascinates me, not somebody else's image of the 1976 Morrissey.

Morrissey may question the point of his existence, but for very many people, his existence is treasured and continues to bring comfort and joy.

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MORRISSEY 2017 - FRAGILE POET WHO CONTINUES TO FASCINATE