alessioIRIDE

Machismo? Come on... let me point out that you’re a queer... I can tell by how you type on the pink keys of your keyboard. I’m not macho, I’m just messing with you... I’m doing you a favor, in a way ;) if I’m an outcast, in the minority, I don’t know... but I hope so. It would be a distinguishing feature... you all seem so boring to me, except for two or three of you, that I really don’t care what you think. About the marrow and various stuff... stoicism isn’t for me. I’m Neapolitan, I’m an epicurean, I only do what I feel like doing, in real life as well as in the virtual one. If I want to post something, I do it; if I don’t, I don’t without thinking about what I said before and the other crap that characterizes the lives of the conformed. I really don’t care about your relationships with others... for me, you can be the beauty queen, but you still remain a loser to me, minority. I remind you that I didn’t tie anything to my finger. I just commented on your crappy editorial, and you (I quote you verbatim, loser... there’s no need for you to act smart in public) "unburied the hatchet against shit and vulgarity" ...for me, you don’t even exist, it’s you who considers me, who waits for my responses to your doubts about films... but you know how much I care or not if you like the sky over Berlin? Right now, I have nothing to do, and I’m messing with you, but I’m not following you. I joined a discussion that appeared on one of your reviews (crappy as usual... your trademark)... so what? What should I do about it? Come on, you feel persecuted, but I’m not following you... I wouldn’t know what to do with you and those like you, my little loser.

don't worry, fidia... the sad thing is taking oneself too seriously (I was responding with irony, a rare commodity, as you well know on debaser... a gift of few), but what would be even sadder would be to respond seriously to someone like enea, who has only the boredom that seriousness brings when considering him... him and patafisica. I stand for metafisica.

Listen, little one... I'm not arguing with you. If I were arguing with you, I would lower myself to the level of an idiot wasting time on pataphysics and gay music. Instead, I’m a badass, so I just point out your gayness... and the fact that everyone has thrown back in your face the bullshit you wrote is a certainty... except for the two or three suck-ups, but whatever. I wrote a review, I limited myself to playing with a film and explaining why I like it, why it moves me. Without any pretentious intellectualism like a dimwit... you want to play the little critic, you get off on giving scores out of ten to albums because it gets you hard and makes you feel like Jesus, summarizing decades with the approximation of a fool... I'm not responding to you, I'm responding to the bullshit you wrote... how could I possibly stay silent? Then the fact that you define Husker Du having listened to only one of their albums categorizes you as a fool... about the exile story... you can finish your nonsense too, little one. Besides being a badass, I'm also a person of intelligence, and like all intelligent people, I'm a huge inconsistent. Now, little one, go back to playing with your dildos and let me talk to Fidia.

But in music, there have always been two opposing tendencies when it comes to doing things: the mainstream and the underground... this was true in the '80s as well as in the '90s, and the '70s... of course, in the '80s it stood out more because you saw these guys with makeup, big hair, slathered in creams, etc... let's not forget Thatcher and Reagan and the cultural desert they created around them. The underground was a reaction to the nonsense and emptiness of certain ridiculous beings. In the '90s, maybe even the mainstream became less ridiculous... but it also depends on the culture of the people: if someone tells me that the '80s were the years of Spandau Ballet... well, that’s their problem. For every year of the '80s, there are at least 5-6 unforgettable masterpieces... if someone was listening to Duran Duran in 1985, that’s their issue. This passion that flares up for trash, this cultural revisionism that leads to appreciating Duran Duran like the films of the beloved duo Boldi-De Sica or those of Totò, is something born out of a stupid intelligence... people who enjoy the idea of being clever and thus managing to extract beauty even from trash. Sure, trash can produce flowers, but it’s hard to generate a thought... unless it's a thought of trash :)

But wouldn’t it be nicer to think of rock music as a powerful, beautiful flow that transmits and influences both the audience and musicians through osmosis, without naively clinging to opposing genres, strange oceans, and quirky periodizations? In the end, these periodization rants are just that—rants by critics, people who have never picked up an instrument, who don’t know what a recording studio looks like... folks who at most can ring the doorbell at home. Those who play and compose know they’re stealing from everyone and every period. For instance, true 80s indie-rock, the one from Dinosaur Jr. and The Youth, is a continuation of "Everybody Knows" by Nello Giovane from 1969; Nirvana ripped off "Is It Real?" from 1979; Husker Du were crazy about the Byrds even though today we’ve discovered how to play hardcore, hard and pure; Big Black dragged the guitar of Gang Of Four by the hair and in 1982 were just a copy of some Joy Division... In short, it’s fine to look at the production year, the oceans, and various mind games, but making it a capital issue? No way. Of course, it’s obvious that those who spout nonsense are usually the ones who listen the least or listen with their asses.

Noble??? But I am the Marquis of Villa Ricca! And then, "noble" coming from a queer gives me a sense... I don’t know, like a role-playing game, and instinctively I tighten my fists. You know, the red lights flashing with a seductive voice saying: "DANGER DANGER!"... Come on Enea, enough. I’ll say it again... I am not gay, get over it.

I'm surprised, maybe even intrigued, but I repeat and accept it: I'm not gay. Your concerns fall on deaf ears, enough with the pleading... As for Berlusconi, tell that jerk who gave you money to buy candies. Bye faggot ;) and shove the bon up your ass with a nice cannoli wherever you like... maybe you'll plug the hole and finish writing for the relief of the whole world. Have a nice day!

yes, the most identifiable years... not by chance the Scartch Acid sound exactly like Duran Duran.

The championship will be sadder and more monotonous than the 8:30 Mass... scudetto to Inter from the first day, Napoli in Champions... this year I'm following Napoli again, with Inter there’s no longer any thrill. Anyway, interesting and fruitful review.

Okay, smash it, then I'm sorry...