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"last night a dj bored my life"
tesla 2
akmed
that's it -it had to happen. if we're going to go all drudgery boring teutonic stomp we might as well inject some art and glands into it- or at least a gigantic sweeping mythological theme worthy of music by angry unfullfilled white closet homosexuals-Wagner.

The nazi's loved Wagner but, then again, the original brown shirts were gay so they probably would like tiffany too. and erasure. and there's nothing inherently wrong with that.

in fact , i'm sure they also had Barbies- but her name was probably Gretle and they really wanted to be her and they loved styling her hair and were just aching for that Gretle's Dream Swiss Chalet before that nasty pig in the SS had them all killed at that slumber party- but that's another story...

ok. there is something wrong with wagner- but nothing a droning 808 and a flaccid but burping bass line can't fix and turn into the gold of youthful moonboot delusion and angst. if you can't move your ass and sole is something several inches or feet thick at the bottom of your footware, Wagner was made for you.

i admit i'd been toying with Hi-NRG again. but who wouldn't after feeling one spends time one should be dancing listening to books falling down stairs with something akin to a rhythm while stunted white boys lean to one side and occassional stomp one booted foot just after one beat has fallen but just before the next one drops?

then there was this:

"With 19th century germany we enter a different world from france, in atmosphere and idiom, more heavy -footed and vulgar. in its works of genius we often have to suspend our sense of the ludicrous, to appreciate them. Even a German newpaper wrote of the Rhinemaidens in Wagner's Ring, floating about in stage water, as 'an aquarium of whores'. " - homosexuals in history, a.l. rowse

alright. first, i am all over these whores floating in an aquarium- it will be better than wood paneling and toaster oven lightening schemes.

next bitch fights by amazonian blondes dressed in metal bras.

ohhhhhh yesssss.

next- soundtrack by wagner as redone by throbbing gristle/coil crossed with tiffany/alicia/company b/yaz/ erasure.

fuck. im bleaching my hair and going to the mall to see if i can find the next 12 year old girl vocal wonder to coyly sing about thunder and valhala over the bubble gum sticky whirl of synthesized discotechnodammerung.

in the meantime, at least when i dont get to dance i can talk to people i actually like and who actually have something to say and just like an organized spice rack or a mad german king who's gay and has a lot of money- that is a Good Thing.

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