lower-case morrissey

unfiltered, my thoughts on current...


Morrissey.


Where does one begin when talking about this outwardly mythical creature?

By shattering the myth, I think.


"The truth in one free afternoon."


Now, I’m not one to kill a character for no reason or to erase the legend they’ve created for themselves without some remorse.


I’m looking at this man through an honest lens though. Morrissey is a bit simpler than the illusion of Morrissey. He proves it time and time again. And I am guilty of pardoning his behavior by calling him deliberately "controversial” or “an artist.” It is impartial truth time though, forthright—Morrissey is not a god, he's not a model person, and he is far removed from the concept of reality that you and I exist in.


I leave room for forgiveness and redemption—for every human… PERIOD. And yes, that includes those who beg for despise. I’ve made mistakes too and will continue to do so. But I don’t have time for stupid, avoidable indiscretions, and I certainly don’t have time for abuses. Disregard for another person’s rights or worth is UNACCEPTABLE.


Our history and present are littered with people who were/are bad at being a decent human. My father is one of them. It’s a deficiency in humanity. And there’s no easy, over-the-counter cure.


I ask, almost daily, what are we to do with those who appear to revel in cruelty and detest—those who think it’s okay to disrespect, to demean, to dehumanize? How can we help those who do not seek help? Those, who are fueled by anger and are unable to recognize that the issue exists within them? Obviously, we have to create a better society—one where mental malady isn’t viewed as a weakness or something to avoid. A society where introspection and emotion are valued... where we share our sorrows and our joys. On a personal level, these questions and internal deliberations have no end. I can write. I can try to be a better person myself. I can be kind. But I can’t fix this alone.


I don’t think we are to excuse these people or to absolve them completely either. To do so would be to make irrelevant the pain they have caused and the people they’ve hurt and destroyed. And it is not my place to invalidate a person’s experience or trauma. It’s no one’s place.


I could “should” on these folks, counting Morrissey…


They should seek help. They should strive for change within themselves. They should aspire to heal their own ailments and work to be BETTER.


But I've learned that these are unhealthy cognitive distortions in projected expectation. Condemnations and manipulations are glitchy on the landing too, and it sets us up for a lifetime of frustration, which doesn't help anyone. Apologies and choosing to change are far more productive, but those things cannot forced.


I hold hope for Morrissey, but it dwindles daily. I can no longer abide or support his work. I can no longer make excuses for him.


Morrissey was a beautiful man. His animal sensitivities and observations regarding the injustices in humanity made him that way. Then, his external beauty disappeared in the gloom of vanity, and that beauty was further reduced when his core, guttural rot could no longer be contained by his thin, withering skin. The God-status of celebrity crushed his stone, statuesque case to reveal the pretentious, bitter, white man within.


“It’s not the media or the politicians or the world, Morrissey. It’s you.

‘It’s time to take responsibility, my dear. And I hope you do, for yourself.

‘Heal, if you will.”


Nick Cave may have a point. These songs belong to us now. Still, it’s hard to separate the artist from their art, in any form, especially, when the artist lights a torch at every creation with, what one can only assume, are intentions to burn it to the fucking ground. Yes, that exchange of ownership does have a happy ring to it, but it’s almost impossible for one to simply forget the source. And Morrissey’s deep song well has been tainted by a sour, blatant rain of racism and hatred.


By the way, “racist” is not a meaningless word, Morrissey. It most definitely means something. It implies a psychotic superiority, which you have visibly embraced. In your comfortable retreat, I urge you to explain to anyone who has felt the sting of discrimination or prejudice against them because of their race, that this word is “meaningless.” Please.


Cave states that “we are all conflicted individuals – messy, flawed and prone to lunacies.” That’s true, but when our mess escapes our bodies and blobs onto others, we have created the potential for an absorbing slime situation, and something must be done.


Do not toss your shit onto me, sir!


At this point, if we were able to manifest Morrissey’s ego into a tangible form, we’d be facing the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Imagine that puffy, bumbling mass singing “This Charming Man.” Because that is precisely where we’ve landed with this exemplary symbol of humankind.


This next repulsive piece is straight from the far-right For Britain manifesto –


Furthermore, some immigration is coming from societies that are culturally and religiously fundamentally at odds with British culture and laws. This has led to a fracturing of British society and vastly increased social division. For example, it was revealed in 2017 that a staggering 50,000 people living in the city of Birmingham are unable to speak English. The native English population of Birmingham, England’s second city, are due to become a minority in the coming years.[5] The political and media class describe this displacement of the native British as “diversity”.

Ah, but our strength is in our diversity. We’re changing, and it's beautiful. Own it!


Anyway, it's a vomitous on-and-on. Read it when you’re in the mood for gross idiocy and sad, unsubstantiated fears. Although, personally, I am NEVER in that mood. When I read it, I was forced, in a scrupulous manner, to ask myself, has he? Did Morrissey ACTUALLY read this document? If he did, I reckon he latched on to some of the animal protection portions, which is appealing in concept. I'm all about the humane treatment of and regard for our animal friends. However, those good intentions crumble when the blame for increased animal cruelty is placed on immigration.


It’s asshole logic, which is best reserved for assholes.


In the end, subscription to this manifesto is marked by a pledge to antiquated systems, which are, quite frankly, anti-human and therefore, anti-self. It’s a narrow view that believes “our world is getting too small, and I say, with kindness, ‘there’s room for us all.’”


A damn Muppet otter gets it.


Therefore, Years of Refusal back atcha', brother Morrissey—


Wearing a "For Britain" badge is a frail, cowardly statement that says, “I have subscribed to and wish to spread these backward ideologies.” You’re a Trump with less power, an improved vocabulary, and thinning, albeit, better hair, and none of that is a compliment. One connecting line to a demagogue is too many, and I can draw several.


His official statement was this —

Everyone always wants to jump to conclusions.
Morrissey has never been affiliated with any political party in the past.

Cool, cool—the past. My apologies, misunderstood man, but I don't think it's a leap to assume that when one wears a political button that they are somehow aligning themselves with that group. It's precisely why I don't wear MAGA gear. I don't want there to be any confusion about that.


It's not a rejection of the status-quo, man, it's a seizing of it. You have cuddled up and crawled in bed with the very thing you claim to despise.


Morrissey is playing in Columbia, MD on September 5th. Tickets to that show were a birthday gift for me. I say, bless the souls that comprise Interpol, but I’d like to think you have a choice in this too. Personally, I choose not to go, because I don’t want to.


No more entertaining your open letters. No more buying into your bullshit, elitist perspective. No more idle idol worship. My perspective—you had a forum, and you demolished it.


I’ll keep the songs that are mine and play them when I can stomach them again. For the moment though, those songs are moldy head cheese and boars’ feet on a bed of uncooked scrapple sizzlin' in the summer heat. They are swelling piles of putrefied meat, and I’ve lost my appetite for them. I know you get that.


I hunger for more in this world, and you, clearly, do not offer more at this point.


I’m over you. And to me, you are over.


At least, for now.


I will always leave room for evolution and change, which allows us both to be open to reconciliation. I’m heartbroken over your stance. That’s what it boils down to. Disappointment. I have been hurt by you.


There’s no room for our growth and healing in For Britain. For Britain = for HATE, and there’s no adjustment or therapeutic value in hatred. It’s rigid and coarse. Bad for the soul.


If you must wallow in anger and self-loathing, I understand to some extent, but I also must leave you there. There’s plenty of music in this world, and most of it is soaked in love. And that’s what I want.


I implore you to approach all things with love too, Morrissey, self too, and to reconsider your position. The Morrissey I knew… the Morrissey, I, as a fan, appreciated and fell in love with, wouldn’t have sided against us and against himself.


But he did, and here we are.


You signed up to be in a sadistic relationship with For Britain (Viva Hate, right?), and I’m not interested that noise. America is loud enough already.




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