SCHMUCK LOL!....

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I'm not sure if my writing is good enough to convey the spirit in which I am writing, so for my benefit, and yours, and so I don’t get deleted by a load of people, I'll say: LOL! Now, and again in a bit.

I don't know if you know, but I'm in the process of getting together a small record company to release apple rabbits, with the intention of working my way back, and slowly releasing everything I've done that is of any musical value from the last 16 years. If I'm in a good mood I will have to contend with the recordings of this jay Fisher geezer; this longhaired freak was me, still is me I suppose. That's a point: how many cells do I have now; that I had in 1994? How often do your cells completely replace themselves? If there are any Biologists out there who know, please write in.
If all my cells have been replace then you could argue that: that long haired freak isn't me at all, and that person is dead, and I just have the memories of Jay Fisher; technically. It certainly feels like that person is dead, I have no particular attachment to him; but I suppose the proof of him not being dead is that I'm here talking about it; and further proof would be that if he'd died, at some appropriate time in 1994, he may have made some money by now on the dead singer/songwriter who didn’t make it market place; he may have had a little untouchable cult status; girls would want to save him, and bits of his tunes would now play in the background on creepy BT adverts; his record company may even advertise this fact on the back of one of his albums; he wouldn't care; he'd be dead; and no matter what empty political, or moral principles he had in his lifetime: they wouldn't mean a thing, he could be exploited like a little reanimated slave; bollocks to him and his stupid feelings about crap like: not feeling comfortable with the idea of using his music to lull an already anesthetized public into buying more shit that they don't need. Actually now I come to talk about it there is a piece of Jay Fisher is still alive, and it’s the worst bit: We all need money, but for some stupid reason, and this I’ve proved time and time again, and feel constantly wracked with guilt about; listen to this; it’s absolute bollocks; here we go: I believe that I have to feel good in my soul about how and where my music is used; what a total schmuck! Also I feel that everyone should feel this way: Schmuck! Schmuck! And worst of all I know how it all really works, and I’m just battling against something I can only win by either giving in like Anakin, or buggering off and becoming a dry stone Waller, growing a beard, calling myself Paul, and disappearing off the map for good. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

SCHMUCK LOL!

If you are a person who can avoid thinking this way, then you are very lucky, I find it impossible to avoid, I can't help it: I'm one of those schmucks who just can’t avoid that ‘feelings’ stuff. Funny thing is I don’t believe in religion of any kind, I’m flat bloke, I’m just about to throw it all in at any moment; and yet it’s of huge importance that my soul is alright; what a total schmuck!

SCHMUCK LOL!

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Anyway here are some reviews of the late jay Fisher RIP, from 1994. He died of Schmuck poisoning, at the hand of a shyster, on a Sunday. Please feel free to make him a cult hero. The poor boy was so sensitive he didn’t stand a chance; and now whenever you hear his music, think of cars, and telephone calls that last for hours, and try to hang on to what it meant to you; and try to convince yourself that it is still about your first love, and not some meaningless corporate shit that eats all, and does nothing to improve the quality of your life.

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SCHMUCK LOL!....

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