I will get to the bad news, it's bullshit, Mikey is a lying asshole, has been since his late mother chose not to abort him, bad decision. The prick was able to perpetrate deception in utero. It was his fault she felt so horribly blue during her laborious pregnancy to a charming and brutal gambler. Human personality traits are that deeply knitted in the primordial dust kitties of DNA. Think of the double helix as a loosely woven scarf. In garish fruit colors. And purple broad brimmed hats. Even as a zygote he was gas lighting his own mother.
Mikey was doing an acoustic set, and had to make some hairy deal out of it beyond his singing and playing. Everyone was doing it, one way or other. Local torch songstress Lavoris Crackman, with the pink healed over bullet hole in her massive cloven chin, would go into long winded monologues about growing up next to a hair dresser. People would find a seat in the beauty parlor, lift a magazine from the end tables, and die of a heroin overdose. It's still exactly that depressing around the corner of Herron and Webster Avenue. But these days, people don't dress up as much.
It was hard to explain why Mikey Mumbawumba was compelled to perform a set of popular broadway show tunes on an acoustic guitar. Cognitive dissonance is part of an explanation. There were people at large, on television, doing something similar, for reasons unknown. It's enough to know that some sort of shit was well received by someone somewhere. That gives people febrile hope that the same thing will work out for them. That's a start, but it's not quite enough.
Mikey's guitar was,he told the audience, a Haitian relic from a machete massacre, during which thatch huts were burned, necks were severed like sugar cane, itty bitty babies were used as field hockey balls. There was a wizard in the village who would play the very Haitian guitar Mikey had with him that evening. The wizard gave Mikey the guitar, but on a nice afternoon. Less mayhem. Nice day to get a free guitar. Everyone should visit the island of Haiti once in a while. Mikey began his set with 'Everything's Coming Up Roses.'
Mikey was doing an acoustic set, and had to make some hairy deal out of it beyond his singing and playing. Everyone was doing it, one way or other. Local torch songstress Lavoris Crackman, with the pink healed over bullet hole in her massive cloven chin, would go into long winded monologues about growing up next to a hair dresser. People would find a seat in the beauty parlor, lift a magazine from the end tables, and die of a heroin overdose. It's still exactly that depressing around the corner of Herron and Webster Avenue. But these days, people don't dress up as much.
It was hard to explain why Mikey Mumbawumba was compelled to perform a set of popular broadway show tunes on an acoustic guitar. Cognitive dissonance is part of an explanation. There were people at large, on television, doing something similar, for reasons unknown. It's enough to know that some sort of shit was well received by someone somewhere. That gives people febrile hope that the same thing will work out for them. That's a start, but it's not quite enough.
Mikey's guitar was,he told the audience, a Haitian relic from a machete massacre, during which thatch huts were burned, necks were severed like sugar cane, itty bitty babies were used as field hockey balls. There was a wizard in the village who would play the very Haitian guitar Mikey had with him that evening. The wizard gave Mikey the guitar, but on a nice afternoon. Less mayhem. Nice day to get a free guitar. Everyone should visit the island of Haiti once in a while. Mikey began his set with 'Everything's Coming Up Roses.'
No comments:
Post a Comment