antoniodeste

Thank you, Manticore, I didn't know. But for the sake of detail and information, these clarifications are very welcome.

Larrok, if you were a beautiful woman, I would have been courting you by now.:) I've read your contributions and, again, I'm with you. Totally & Unconditionally.

popopo: what the hell do you know about VDGG? This stuff is for people with guts, not for idiots like you. Keep listening to Marco Carta, fool!

Popopo: look, there must be a mistake: you're the shit, fragrant star.

Listen, darling, try to stick two fingers up your ass, so life will smile at you. And fuck you, idiot.

Hello, Mantìcora. Of course, I remember. I don't remember, though (...) if I'm on "faccialibro". I’ll try to check. Have you seen el sior Emerson in the DVD included with the relevant edition? Bye.

Needless to say, I support Larrok "one hundred percent." And as fair as it may be, assuming it is, that "pop" music (which now has a meaning, whereas in the late '60s and '70s it had a completely different one) can and/or should be a moment of "carefreeness" and "proper lightness," there are HUNDREDS, if not more, of examples of "lightness" conceived with greater decency, originality, and creativity, even if meant for "dancing" and "having fun." In fact, by trying to "escape" for "fun," what I see today is an audience of idiots listening to illustrious "products" conceived in series precisely for mentally underdeveloped individuals (at least in musical matters) now addicted to these "modern drugs" created on an industrial level to dull them, ultimately, and extinguish their critical sense (Dangerous!!). And as a "hard and pure" individual, which I perhaps naively still believe myself to be, for my part, the only connection I have with the music industry is provided by the physical support of the compact disc, its cover, and the respective plastic container. The rest, thanks God, is ANOTHER thing. Hi Larrok, it's nice to read you every once in a while!

A true poor spirit, this poor boy; besides the rest, of what he writes, already quite alarming concerning his mental hygiene (and language), he also adds things that would want to be funny or deadly jabs, which in his obvious intentions manifest only as the delirium of someone in need of psychiatric and/or emotional support. Poor thing. It's really sad. Meanwhile, this poporopopoppò, or whatever he wants to be called, continues to praise me through gritted teeth with his "subtle" irony. At least he keeps himself occupied. Listen, boy: are you really sure you want to keep "loving" me? And maybe, just once, instead of venting your serious and apparently unsolvable frustrations with someone like me, who doesn't even deserve half the attention you want to keep giving me (but your disorder justifies this attention), listen to this record. Maybe you'll learn something. Maybe that you find this stuff disgusting. But you’re not interested in listening to this record, are you? You just like to drool over someone you’ve targeted because he says things you despise, right? Good job, that way you free yourself from your obsessive tendencies. But then don’t be surprised if this guy responds to you, and not exactly in a "polite" manner. You’re so disgustingly unpleasant and offensive that you deserve nothing less than to be kicked in the ass. Or have you already taken some kicks from others and are still not satisfied? What do you think you’ll accomplish with your crap? Satisfaction? Finding dozens of users who support your positions and join you in a chorus of "Yes!! Antoniodeste is just as you say!!" "Let’s attack him!" "Let’s tear him to pieces!"; Do you really believe that??!! Poor thing. Go do your popo somewhere else, please, "Master"; The smell is starting to make me nauseous, and after all, no one is forcing you to read my stuff. Go take a shit elsewhere. You’ll certainly find other victims willing to cater to disturbed individuals like you.

But just think: now the quality of art is measured by the quantity that the American industry "certifies" based on the number of copies sold. (And imagine! even a damn "diamond certification"! Those industrial fat cats, thanks to this, have been living like nabobs for at least twenty years, with billionaire accounts in American banks that might later go bankrupt.) And speaking of the incredible industrial genius of a straight woman who—think of the wonder!—makes millions of people dance, to whom music understood as a form of art matters less than zero, there can be no discounts. Besides, she certainly doesn’t need any. Pluto, let’s try to understand each other: are you talking about art or industry? Because it seems there’s a serious misunderstanding at play. The review actually refers to the cunning of unscrupulous characters like her. Grim provocations in the '80s, sex, bullshit, null lyrics, zero values, pathetic statements, Z-list movies, and media bombardments by the ton to "make people dance" and sell records as if they were cans of meat. What the fuck are you talking about? What did you expect? That Cruciani, a true lover of Music as it should be, would start praising a "product of today's American industry"? Do you like Madonna? Good for you, great; listen to her and even get off with her dances and her mass-produced little songs; nothing wrong with that after all; but if we want to talk about music, let's change the subject. Ciccone (and those behind her, especially) is indeed a genius, of industry and entertainment. Music understood as a form of art, however, is another thing.

@Zaireeka: we have both been frequent visitors to this site for a long time, I believe, even though there have never been substantial points of contact between us, to my recollection. I am pleased that in this case, however, the wind, the air marking elements of my sign, along with water, can be elements that invite us to deep and inner reflections. @terry: I never thought of you as dumb! Love on us all.