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Wednesday, 21 December 2016

Day 2024 - Musings of a snowflake

There were some bizarre happenings yesterday in both the world of internet blogger, Our Mozzer, and that of the former lead singer of 80s indie pop band, the Smiths, Morrissey.

Following the publication of my blog entry of yesterday; in which I published some pieces from the new TrueMorrissey blog, Our Mozzer hauled me into the toilets of The Wrong Arms, and instructed me to remove my blog entry "immediately"; informing me that the articles were not mine to publish. He then went on to instruct me to remove my whole blog, labelling it "an embarrassment".

OM (@SeminalArtiste) then took to Twitter to write, "@TheRatsBack is no longer part of our journey. The journey is no longer a journey. It's over. Death. Gone. Always. Forever." When Sarkka (@EnoughSari) asked him why, OM replied, "He has yet again betrayed my trust."

OM then took to his True Morrissey blog, posting a piece entitled, Not A Beginning, in which he wrote:

"It has finished before it started. You may blame one blogging c***. There will be no new blog. No interaction. The journey is over."

Image result for morrissey upside down

OM then returned to the toilets of The Arms, where he informed me that I had no authority to publish something that was not in the public domain. I pointed out that the articles ARE in the public domain - further proven by GWO, who took to the comments section of yesterday's FTM entry to publish the whole of the Musings of the Corrupt Mind, which she had found cached on google - but decided to bow to OM's demands, and removed my blog entry of yesterday - but obviously not before our old friend, Chuck (remember her?) had seen it, because an hour or so later, she took to the comments section of Day 1939 of FTM and wrote, "The deleted comments on the last deleted post, were originally posted here: - the mystery had suddenly thickened!

Steven Morrissey spielt am Mittwoch (30.09.2015) in der Hugenottenhalle Neu-Isenburg.

Chuck must have googled the words that either I or GWO had posted from Musings of the Corrupt Mind, and had discovered that there were even more words of The Mozziah just floating about in cyber space. It's as though there are a trail of breadcrumbs being left all over the internet. Goodness only knows what else Morrissey has posted that is out there, waiting to be discovered.

The AlfsButton wordpress - which again is OBVIOUSLY in the public domain - contains not only the whole of Musings of the Corrupt Mind; as published by GWO yesterday, but also some additional paragraphs. In all, there are eight postings on the wordpress, dating from June 2nd 2015 to June 22nd 2015 - a period of time before and during Morrissey's tour of the USA. Here it is, in full:

June 2, 2015
The only thing worth parodying is life itself. Even then the parody produces more life than life could ever hope to. We are amused because amusement is confusion. We live because we are told that taking life is not noble. However those in the know, knowingly in the know, know that life is not worth living. We live in interesting times. I’d rather be in Fallowfield than the arse of the world. But in reality, is there a difference?

June 4, 2015
The only certainty, if you can call certainty completely certain, is that there is no such thing as certainty. No dearest reader(s), there is no such thing in life as certainty. Life is full of twists and turns, crashes and bump landings, answers that were yes yesterday and no today. I have no use for tomorrow. None whatsoever. Of that I’m certain. Life is a merry-go-round and the rhythm of life? It goes round. The possibilities of life are endless but life is also futile. Dull and banal, making you unable to even muster the strength to make a weak cup of tea. A tea that does not pass muster. Tea is also a distraction. All of modern consumerism is a distraction from the real world. What makes others feel happy, well it leads me head first into harm. No, not harm, outrage. No not outrage, disgust. Disgust, outrage and harm. Life is pointless. But this? This you surely knew.

Outrageously yours,
The third worst troubadour

June 13, 2015
Riddle me this, riddle me that. Twiddle your thumb, sit on your hat. Rhythm relates to life but life does not relate to rhythm. Systems of spiteful taunts crush those live in shyness. Shyness is of course the greatest modern malady. Yet those who suffer from this disease are offered no sympathy, no cure. Errors of ability, mismanagement of authority, the blunders of bureaucracies. Forces push you and forces pull you from hither to nowhere and then back to the middle. Forced to work, forced to love, and forced to exist. We exist in vacuums. Dirt will encase as all in the end.

Insincerely yours,
21st Century Fag Boy

The next 5 postings are what makes up the piece, Musings of the Corrupt Mind:

June 17, 2015
Paralysed with a social awkwardness, a child of five no longer wants to be alive. A child of seven welcomes the thought of hell or heaven although the child of eight knows neither exists and is only alive due to hate. A child of nine purposefully falls down a mine and smatters his spine on the alpine. A child of ten grows to hate but also crave the touch of men. A child of thirteen cannot comprehend what life truly means. Boy racers zoom past you after too many whisky chasers. Laser beams beaming directly into your eyes. Nobody is satisfied with the way they live their life. Are you satisfied? Do something, anything. I cannot remember the last time I saw sense. But it is argued quite forcefully that my senses abandoned me years ago.

Your fly in the ointment

June 19, 2015
“Suffering is permanent, obscure, and dark
And has the nature of infinity”

So said Prunella Scales back in 1874. Suffering, as old prune face clearly knew, is a lonely venture. No man is an island of course however some men are more adrift in the ocean than others. Whilst some are connected through a common bond, a common culture, a common language, I, I have always stood alone. Suffering is me, and I am suffering. I am as much an individualist now than I ever was. Suffering is endless and suffering has meaning. The underlying meaning of suffering is the quest that, once solved, will eradicate the very suffering of suffering. In my life I have been given nothing but yet I seem to possess everything that makes the world spin and turn. Money, passion, fame, adulation. What is my suffering? It is a suffering that is silent. A silent suffering is the worst. When one acquires everything one ceases to try. I became amused with trinkets. Amused with consumerism. Content with the ordinary. A man is a beast and a man I am not. Religion cannot help me now. Reason spits on my name. Contentment laughs in my face. Humiliation is my fate.

Life is a game my friends and we are all on the losing side.

Yours inconsolably,
Joe Orton’s Tea towel.

June 21, 2015
The water is set to boil as the soil falls over heads. Heads of dismay, heads led astray. The adult is the child and the child is unfortunately the adult. Ireland issued illness, England encapsulated enigma, Manchester made madness, and Switzerland seeks sorrow. What the adult says to the child makes the child recoil under a table. What the child says to the adult? The adult is unable to understand the simple thoughts of a child’s mind but the child thinks the same. Thoughts of a holiday dismay the dismal. Abroad seems like home and home is like another country. Dullness of thoughts betray aliveness of eyes. Footballs once kicked against the side of a wall to annoy the neighbour inside are now kicked against empty shells of shops that have been left behind by department stores. Stores that offer everything but deliver nothing. Stores that mirror life.

Forever in spite.


June 22, 2015
I will forever be astounded at the lack of intelligence or feeling within the human race. So much outpouring of grief over Chinese festival where Dogs are slaughtered for their meat. Yes this is barbaric. There is no doubt about that. The Chinese are an inhumane lot. However how many of those who protest at this festival will, tomorrow or the next day, sit down on their chairs unable to take their weight and tuck into bacon?

Suffering is the same no matter how cute the animal is.

A dog is a chicken, is a pig, is a lamb.

June 22, 2015
Masquerading as a malcontent, maladjusted, misery monster is easy. What is somewhat easier is not masquerading at all.  We gallantly gallivant about because we are all gadabouts. Our conversation is loquacious. Our silence is sinister.  My entire life has been constructed in dreams. Dreams, and dreams alone, give meaning to my life. Music is escape. Escape is relaxation. Relaxation is bliss. I am interested in everything and yet I own and I am not owned by anything. Love is a question mark. A waif, a stray, a throwback to a bygone age. I was not made for reality and yet reality kicked down the door. To understand yourself you must destroy yourself.  I understand now that I am nothing. We are nothing. I never wanted to be anything so I have won that small victory.

In flashes of ashes.

Your misanthrope

It is all fascinating stuff.

Meanwhile, in the real world of Morrissey, he yesterday posted a new piece on True-To-You entitled, Death is not the final word, which again is bizarre. The article; which starts with three dots and a pause - but that is another story, is all about an 84 year old Japanese musician called, Tomita, whose death earlier this year has apparently caused Morrissey to struggle more than any other death this year! Really? I don't recall Morrissey ever having mentioned this Tomita chap before; there is certainly no reference to him in Autobiography, nor the album Snowflakes Are Dancing, which Morrissey claims in the TTY statement he has listened to "constantly for forty years, especially on the hard days of self-judgement." Are these definitely the words of Morrissey, or has David Sylvian, Brian Eno, Ralf Hütter or Rusty Egan hacked TTY?

Here is the TTY statement in full:

... for there are some people who are lucky enough to leave such a powerful mark on life that not even death can wipe them out. In this Year Of Death ... from Richard Davalos to Frank Finlay to Prince to my very dear friend Victoria Wood ... I struggled most of all with the death of TOMITA, whose Snowflakes are dancing (RCA) I have listened to constantly for 40 years, especially on hard days of self-judgment. It is a recording that you can listen to repeatedly until you hear nothing else. All you need to do is to keep quiet. In a few minutes all the right answers come through and you will find that there had never been any reason, after all, to feel angry.

If you do not know this recording, I envy your first listen. Track 5 especially will stay with you for always, as the best music does ... never outside time. It might take you back to the lost years of personal honesty in music, when artists gave everything that they had and everything that they were.

20 December 2016.

Right then, I'm off to have my virgin listen to Snowflakes Are Dancing - well I would, wouldn't I!

Foot Note - I wonder just what Morrissey will make of Justin Bieber, who is currently all over the news wearing a coyote coat.

Justin Bieber


  1. No. AlfsButton was in the chatroom and shared the link with us there last summer.

    I believe @slightdawnmist returned to twitter briefly last night. She tweeted the word, "Dansing". I believe reference to a certain YouTube video with incorrect spelling.

    1. So, if OM has already shared his musings with his favoured few in the chatroom, AND it's in the public domain, why on earth is he getting arsey with me? C***!

    2. Ps Did Dawn tweet "dansing" before or after the TTY statement appeared?
      Pps I didn't know that you were on Twitter, Chuck. Feel free to follow me if you like. My user name is @TheRatsBack. I am the one who is no longer part of the journey, although apparently there is no journey.

    3. Ppps Thanks for sharing the wordpress link with the rest of us last summer, NOT. Selfish. I don't know why I have bothered to keep you all updated for the last 5 years. In fact, fuck the lot of you, I'm off.

    4. Unfortunately, I have to empathize with Ratty on this one. Surely someone could have DM'd me for an exclusive blob post...

  2. The discovery of these musings from OM is better than Christmas morning for me. The AlfsButton blog is quite a gem - have we missed other gems like this from OM? I'll enjoy listening to the Tomita album, as Debussy is one of my favorite composers. I have to admit that the mention of death in the TTY title reminded me of OM's tweet which mentioned death, but it was probably just wishful thinking on my part that death might not be the final word in our journey.

  3. oh, I forgot all about dolly..

  4. That's a very blue album cover. A nod is as good as a wink.

  5. I remember Alf's blob....from that same chat room. I never heard Tomita, curious and will check it. Thanks for your post and have a good one - happy holidays!


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