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The opening word today was typed by puss puss with her two back paws. I've googled it and it means nothing which is disappointing. I'm hopeful I will discover the first British Blue who can touch type and turn her into a worldwide phenomenon in the same vein as Nora the piano playing cat and Fatso, aka Keyboard Cat, who played the keyboard in the 1980's and died in the year 2000.
Poor Fatso. He probably died of shame for being forced to wear that horrible blue shirt while his owner, a gentleman by the name of Charlie Schmidt, jiggled his forlorn feline's front legs up and down in time with the pre-programmed cheese emitting from his horrible little organ. Here is a link to Charlie Schmidt's website. Apparently he is a professional graphic designer, actor, inventor, movie maker, painter, sculptor, performance artist, builder of hot rod cars, teacher, 2nd degree black belt, musician and philospher. Be careful with his website, it's very wacky and makes wacky noises when you move your cursor over his wacky icons highlighting what wacky things he does, the wackiest of which appears to be nose dancing. What a cock.
I've just read another article that says keyboard cat died in 1987. The more I delve into the life of Fatso the murkier and sadder it becomes. Fatso was an orange Spokane cat and in many ways was just another disposable victim in the globalised industry called manufactured pop. The steps are quite simple:
1. Find someone good looking and desperate for fame, talent is not required but a modicum is beneficial.
2. Write a terrible song for them.
3. Make them wear terrible clothes.
4. Make them change their name.
5. Put your hand up their arse and control their every move with an iron fist.
6. Make a terrible video.
7. Make lots of terrible merchandise.
8. Make lots of money.
9. Make the artist sign a contract so they do not make lots of money.
10. When popularity wanes go to step 1.
Most of these steps are easier when you're dealing with a cat.
My favourite manufactured pop impresario was Larry Parnes who invited lots of young men to his house in the 1950's, changed their names, gave them nice suits and made them famous for a while. Larry and his menagerie had hit after hit but his real talent was devising evocative names guaranteed to get the younguns all juiced up and ready to part with their hard earned pence, not that Larry's men saw much of it. Billy Fury, Vince Eager, Lance Fortune, Georgie Fame, Duffy Power and my favourite Dickie Pride. Dickie Pride's real name was Richard Charles Kneller and you have to wonder why Larry just didn't add an E and drop an L to Kneller to get Dickie Kneeler. The only man to stand up to Larry, he hated his young boys standing up, was Joe Brown who bravely resisted Larry's desire to launch him as Elmer Twitch. Larry did turn down a band called The Silver Beetles which wasn't the greatest move although he did use them as a backing band for Johnny Gentle.
On the subject of horrible music with no artistic merit here is a disturbing picture. These pieces of eye torture are everywhere in Auckland at the moment. Every breath I take, every move I make, every vow I break, every smile I fake, every claim I stake, every leaf I rake, every time I wake, every baby I shake, every brownie I bake, every muss I jake, Chad Kroeger, his brother Mike and the other two drop-kicks are watching me behind their sunglasses which they even wear at night because their eyes are red because they are all the devil's children.Thank God they are only inflicting us with one show, although it is their biggest show EVER! When you've rocked the world for over a decade your biggest show EVER! must be pretty big. I hope Auckland's show rocks as much as this one in Portugal where the brave Portuguese pelted Chad with Portuguese rocks until he left the stage. C'mon Auckland, let's show Portugal that we can rock harder than them, more rocks, bigger rocks, the biggest rocks EVER! Kia kaha.
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