Blog: The Life Of A Supreme Ruler

Real music?

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• General

— orudge @ 05/12/2004 8:08 pm

What would you call real music? Do you think Weird Al’s songs are not “real music” because they’re funny, or silly? Ken was arguing that his songs – even his non-parodies – aren’t real for these reasons, which doesn’t quite make sense to me. Not usual, perhaps, but they’re still “real”. That’s my opinion anyway.

Another argument we’ve been having is that of Lord of the Rings: one book, three books, six books, or what? My position was that it’s a single book, as in a single narrative, story, etc. The most common form of publishing for LOTR is three volumes, but that doesn’t mean that it’s three books. Technically, it’s six books, usually printed as three volumes, but being one narrative. *sigh*

I need some sleep. I also have to write a radio play for… tomorrow. Hmm. :/

One Comment to “Real music?”

1. I’d like to take you now on wings of song as it were, and try and help you forget, perhaps, for a while, your drab wretched lives. Here is a song all about springtime in general, and in particular about one of the many delightful pastimes that the coming of spring affords us all.

   Spring is here, a-suh-puh-ring is here.
   Life is skittles and life is beer.
   I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring.
   I do, don’t you? ‘Course you do.
   But there’s one thing that makes spring complete for me,
   And makes every Sunday a treat for me.

   All the world seems in tune
   On a spring afternoon,
   When we’re poisoning pigeons in the park.
   Every Sunday you’ll see
   My sweetheart and me,
   As we poison the pigeons in the park.

   When they see us coming, the birdies all try an’ hide,
   But they still go for peanuts when coated with cyanide.
   The sun’s shining bright,
   Everything seems all right,
   When we’re poisoning pigeons in the park.

   We’ve gained notoriety,
   And caused much anxiety
   In the Audubon Society
   With our games.
   They call it impiety
   And lack of propriety,
   And quite a variety
   Of unpleasant names.
   But it’s not against any religion
   To want to dispose of a pigeon.

   So if Sunday you’re free,
   Why don’t you come with me,
   And we’ll poison the pigeons in the park.
   And maybe we’ll do
   In a squirrel or two,
   While we’re poisoning pigeons in the park.

   We’ll murder them all amid laughter and merriment,
   Except for the few we take home to experiment.
   My pulse will be quickenin’
   With each drop of strych’nine
   We feed to a pigeon.
   (It just takes a smidgin!)
   To poison a pigeon in the park.

   Comment by Lehrer, Tom — 06/12/2004 @ 3:56 pm

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