Strange/unexpected Moz references?

There's no reason why they shouldn't. That's a neat vase for sure.
I have the Morrissey/Marr salt and pepper pots. They make a very cute set. Now I want that vase too.
 
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RIP Xantipa. She should have been the cover star on I Am Not A Dog On A Chain...

 
Does anyone research or have any guts?

A few weeks back a Professor from Texas wrote a review in the "Los Angeles Review of Books" of the new biography of Shelagh Delaney by Selina Todd, making some cute points about how these days, especially, some biographers feel compelled to comandeer, and contort, writers of the past for their own modern needs. Prof Lee seems to suggest that Selina Todd is squeezing Ms Delaney into a box that she might not have been entirely comfortable with ~

https://lareviewofbooks.org/article...ave-feminism-on-selina-todds-tastes-of-honey/

"In a cultural moment that fetishizes identities like Delaney’s, there is a heightened need for dependable representation. As such, questions emerge as to which is the most authoritative: the life reconstructed in biographical form or the life that persists as part of its cultural legacy? "

"Despite her proximity to an otherwise androcentric and misogynistic genre, few would ever question that Delaney’s work is anything other than powerfully feminist. Todd, however, argues that “her feminist perspective was either ignored or treated as controversial.” Tastes of Honey takes this notion as its guiding principle, claiming to draw a clear line of affiliation between the author and second-wave politics. Todd’s desire to link Delaney to the second wave via a litany of academic references and parallels with feminist scholars is certainly one consideration, but one might also argue that Delaney’s politics are less institutional, less direct, and more anarchic and irreverent."

"While Todd attempts to position Delaney as a programmatic, tactical writer — one to which second-wave feminists owe a debt of gratitude — Delaney’s work and the few interviews that we have of her suggest a much more anarchic, antagonistic approach to the feminist cause. Rather than the institutional form of feminism Todd depicts in the book, Delaney’s feminism seems more likely a precursor to 1970s punk rock through its raw, unencumbered, and largely confrontational tone."

So, while Tennis Boy Edmund offers tears of mourning at the feet of his guest, for the days when Lefty cardigan-strokers could rely on Morrissey, Mr O'Hagan really should have chided the child, and remembered the very first time he set his eyes on the blistering Steven in an Irvine sports centre ~

"I first clapped eyes on Morrissey on 22 September 1985. It was a cold night on the West Coast of Scotland at the Magnum Leisure Centre in Irvine, and The Smiths were brewing up a humongous storm on the converted badminton courts. The audience contained a fair number of what in that part of the world are called 'neds' – razor-cropped hooligans with a happy average of one O-grade in woodwork between them – and I found myself surprised to see these ruffians tearing at their Fred Perry shirts before climbing up the amplifiers to drape themselves around Morrissey’s neck, while the singer went about his business with a giant bunch of gladioli, swinging them round his head and narrowing his eyes like Edith Sitwell. There was one devotee in particular, a young man who spent his recreational periods at our school thumping first-years and selling single cigarettes, and I watched as he paid homage to this camp bedazzler onstage and danced around with unfettered joy wearing his mother’s beads. I had no choice but to recognise that the world was suddenly making itself available for improvement, and it was all Morrissey’s fault."


What did the beer monsters & Perry Boys see in Moz? The same thing that the brown rice sniffers did? Strange daze & strange ways.

But no more of such nonsense now. Strictly straight lines only. All the colours of a rainbow maybe, but still all in their rows.

.
 
A few weeks back a Professor from Texas wrote a review in the "Los Angeles Review of Books" of the new biography of Shelagh Delaney by Selina Todd, making some cute points about how these days, especially, some biographers feel compelled to comandeer, and contort, writers of the past for their own modern needs. Prof Lee seems to suggest that Selina Todd is squeezing Ms Delaney into a box that she might not have been entirely comfortable with ~

https://lareviewofbooks.org/article...ave-feminism-on-selina-todds-tastes-of-honey/

"In a cultural moment that fetishizes identities like Delaney’s, there is a heightened need for dependable representation. As such, questions emerge as to which is the most authoritative: the life reconstructed in biographical form or the life that persists as part of its cultural legacy? "

"Despite her proximity to an otherwise androcentric and misogynistic genre, few would ever question that Delaney’s work is anything other than powerfully feminist. Todd, however, argues that “her feminist perspective was either ignored or treated as controversial.” Tastes of Honey takes this notion as its guiding principle, claiming to draw a clear line of affiliation between the author and second-wave politics. Todd’s desire to link Delaney to the second wave via a litany of academic references and parallels with feminist scholars is certainly one consideration, but one might also argue that Delaney’s politics are less institutional, less direct, and more anarchic and irreverent."

"While Todd attempts to position Delaney as a programmatic, tactical writer — one to which second-wave feminists owe a debt of gratitude — Delaney’s work and the few interviews that we have of her suggest a much more anarchic, antagonistic approach to the feminist cause. Rather than the institutional form of feminism Todd depicts in the book, Delaney’s feminism seems more likely a precursor to 1970s punk rock through its raw, unencumbered, and largely confrontational tone."

So, while Tennis Boy Edmund offers tears of mourning at the feet of his guest, for the days when Lefty cardigan-strokers could rely on Morrissey, Mr O'Hagan really should have chided the child, and remembered the very first time he set his eyes on the blistering Steven in an Irvine sports centre ~

"I first clapped eyes on Morrissey on 22 September 1985. It was a cold night on the West Coast of Scotland at the Magnum Leisure Centre in Irvine, and The Smiths were brewing up a humongous storm on the converted badminton courts. The audience contained a fair number of what in that part of the world are called 'neds' – razor-cropped hooligans with a happy average of one O-grade in woodwork between them – and I found myself surprised to see these ruffians tearing at their Fred Perry shirts before climbing up the amplifiers to drape themselves around Morrissey’s neck, while the singer went about his business with a giant bunch of gladioli, swinging them round his head and narrowing his eyes like Edith Sitwell. There was one devotee in particular, a young man who spent his recreational periods at our school thumping first-years and selling single cigarettes, and I watched as he paid homage to this camp bedazzler onstage and danced around with unfettered joy wearing his mother’s beads. I had no choice but to recognise that the world was suddenly making itself available for improvement, and it was all Morrissey’s fault."


What did the beer monsters & Perry Boys see in Moz? The same thing that the brown rice sniffers did? Strange daze & strange ways.

But no more of such nonsense now. Strictly straight lines only. All the colours of a rainbow maybe, but still all in their rows.

.
20200925_010106.jpg


I got the aforementioned book 😉 back in December '19 (bit of a late review!?).
It's a good read and has about 40 Morrissey & Smiths mentions.
Regards,
FWD.
 
A few weeks back a Professor from Texas wrote a review in the "Los Angeles Review of Books" of the new biography of Shelagh Delaney by Selina Todd, making some cute points about how these days, especially, some biographers feel compelled to comandeer, and contort, writers of the past for their own modern needs. Prof Lee seems to suggest that Selina Todd is squeezing Ms Delaney into a box that she might not have been entirely comfortable with ~

https://lareviewofbooks.org/article...ave-feminism-on-selina-todds-tastes-of-honey/

"In a cultural moment that fetishizes identities like Delaney’s, there is a heightened need for dependable representation. As such, questions emerge as to which is the most authoritative: the life reconstructed in biographical form or the life that persists as part of its cultural legacy? "

"Despite her proximity to an otherwise androcentric and misogynistic genre, few would ever question that Delaney’s work is anything other than powerfully feminist. Todd, however, argues that “her feminist perspective was either ignored or treated as controversial.” Tastes of Honey takes this notion as its guiding principle, claiming to draw a clear line of affiliation between the author and second-wave politics. Todd’s desire to link Delaney to the second wave via a litany of academic references and parallels with feminist scholars is certainly one consideration, but one might also argue that Delaney’s politics are less institutional, less direct, and more anarchic and irreverent."

"While Todd attempts to position Delaney as a programmatic, tactical writer — one to which second-wave feminists owe a debt of gratitude — Delaney’s work and the few interviews that we have of her suggest a much more anarchic, antagonistic approach to the feminist cause. Rather than the institutional form of feminism Todd depicts in the book, Delaney’s feminism seems more likely a precursor to 1970s punk rock through its raw, unencumbered, and largely confrontational tone."

So, while Tennis Boy Edmund offers tears of mourning at the feet of his guest, for the days when Lefty cardigan-strokers could rely on Morrissey, Mr O'Hagan really should have chided the child, and remembered the very first time he set his eyes on the blistering Steven in an Irvine sports centre ~

"I first clapped eyes on Morrissey on 22 September 1985. It was a cold night on the West Coast of Scotland at the Magnum Leisure Centre in Irvine, and The Smiths were brewing up a humongous storm on the converted badminton courts. The audience contained a fair number of what in that part of the world are called 'neds' – razor-cropped hooligans with a happy average of one O-grade in woodwork between them – and I found myself surprised to see these ruffians tearing at their Fred Perry shirts before climbing up the amplifiers to drape themselves around Morrissey’s neck, while the singer went about his business with a giant bunch of gladioli, swinging them round his head and narrowing his eyes like Edith Sitwell. There was one devotee in particular, a young man who spent his recreational periods at our school thumping first-years and selling single cigarettes, and I watched as he paid homage to this camp bedazzler onstage and danced around with unfettered joy wearing his mother’s beads. I had no choice but to recognise that the world was suddenly making itself available for improvement, and it was all Morrissey’s fault."


What did the beer monsters & Perry Boys see in Moz? The same thing that the brown rice sniffers did? Strange daze & strange ways.

But no more of such nonsense now. Strictly straight lines only. All the colours of a rainbow maybe, but still all in their rows.

.

Oh, definitely.

And they're wrong - that's what's so infuriating. They've piled on & demonized him over a rolling clusterf**k of pull-quotes, misquotes, lyrics, guilt by association & punditry. He's more true to the spirit of the left than they are.

I stan.

 
Do you take credit for bringing them back together every time you sit down to eat ?


:)

No. Never. :paranoid: That would be very silly...

Also, I never make sure that they're safely huddled together in the cupboard.

(The oregano tries to screw itself in every time.)
 
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I have the Morrissey/Marr salt and pepper pots. They make a very cute set. Now I want that vase too.
Very nice the salt & pepper pots Girl Afraid. I remember seeing the teapot last time I was at Salford Lads & I think the pots were there too, it was the time when the Castlefield Bowl gigs were unfortunately cancelled. My friend & I walked about a mile from our hotel to the Lads Club and it was a great little afternoon there with vegan food, cold drinks and memorabilia for sale plus a wander around the club, a great place.
 
Very nice the salt & pepper pots Girl Afraid. I remember seeing the teapot last time I was at Salford Lads & I think the pots were there too, it was the time when the Castlefield Bowl gigs were unfortunately cancelled. My friend & I walked about a mile from our hotel to the Lads Club and it was a great little afternoon there with vegan food, cold drinks and memorabilia for sale plus a wander around the club, a great place.

The teapot seemed a bit too small considering my daily intake.
I guess you don't actually have to use things like these, they can just sit on the shelves looking pretty.
 
Andrew O'Hagan Guardian article - Morrissey mention
From the 'Books That Made Me' column comes the following:
The book I couldn’t finish
Morrissey’s novel, List of the Lost. There’s only so much disillusionment a person can take, and it was dismaying to see how little he cared for language, or self-parody, or any of the things that made him a hero of my youth.
 
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