| Friday, October 27, 2006 |
 | You know, I detest the casual cretinism of the poor, sensitive flower wishing that he or she could live the untroubled life of the commoner, sequestered from the deep and terrible knowledge, the unearthly passions and the terrible pain of love and loneliness that they could never understand. Having said which, sometimes being an absolute cockwit feels like it must be so rewarding.
Elsewhere - Guardian meta-article - an article pretending to be about My Chemical Romance which is in fact about a Daily Mail article about My Chemical Romance - built around one killer line:
Despite all this, the Daily Mail's article has proved hard to ignore. That's partly because it was so shrill and barmy: the last time the Mail got this worked up about a bunch of black-clad youths, they were marching through London's East End with Oswald Mosley and the paper was encouraging readers to join them.
Personally, I don't think any band that I could beat up counts as a threat to our children, since our children could in turn beat me up.
Last word goes to My Chemical Romance versus David Bowie. Worth it for the comments alone.
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