Births Deaths And Marriages
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Re: Births Deaths And Marriages
This one is hitting hard. Just last year her 17 year old son took his life.
She was a brilliant and uncompromising artist, hung out to dry in the 90s for calling out the Catholic Church and it's systematic sexual abuse.
She was a brilliant and uncompromising artist, hung out to dry in the 90s for calling out the Catholic Church and it's systematic sexual abuse.
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Re: Births Deaths And Marriages
This from Amanda Palmer pretty much sums up why she was so special
Sinéad.
She was fierceness and honestly incarnate.
She howled her heart out so purely that people had no idea what to make of it.
This is a woman who ripped up a picture of the pope on Saturday Night Live (when it had no ”safety delay”) to draw attention to the sex abuse happening in the Catholic Church, after delivering “War” by Bob Marley, a cappella:
Until the philosophy which hold one race
Superior and another Inferior
Is finally
And permanently
Discredited
And abandoned
Everywhere is war.
Twelve days later she took the stage at Madison Square Garden for a Bob Dylan tribute festival and you could barely hear her sing over the boos and jeers from the crowd. She scrapped her planned Dylan song and screamed out “War” again, as the crowd tried to overpower her.
That feeling. Many women have been there. I have been there too, shaking, as it feels like the whole world is trying to shout and drown you out, and put you in your place. Wondering if I am the crazy one. Wondering if this many people are right. Or wrong. Or even real.
She was right about the church. She was very f*cking right.
She was right about so many things.
Now that she is dead, I know she’ll be lauded and applauded.
But back then? That night? How do you imagine she felt that night, crawling into bed, having been abused by a crowd of thousands? How would you feel? What would that do to you? Would you care if the world turned around, forty years later, and said: “Sorry about that, you were actually very brave?”
This is a woman who boycotted the Grammys saying she did not want “to be part of a world that measures artistic ability by material success.” This is a woman who refused to play US national anthem before certain concerts. That went down reallll well, too.
She was hated, she was scorned, she was cancelled for being honest over and over again. That SNL move was the beginning of the end of a career in many ways. She never recovered.
Too much, they said. Go away.
She used her voice. She kept on speaking.
She was loud. Being a loud woman is not f*cking convenient, for anyone. Ever. Not around here.
She was strikingly beautiful. She shaved her head and gave the middle finger to the beauty standard. She wore combat boots and jeans. She opened her mouth to the max, literally. She did not mumble; she roared. She inspired me into taking power; she inspired so many of my friends. She showed us all another way. There’s this way, too. Go this way, she seemed to be screaming, GO.
Dismissed as crazy. She struggled, and she struggled, and she struggled. She was punished, she was mocked, she was ridiculed.
She retreated and came back time and time again, her roar ragged, her frustration jagged and visible. Painful. You could see it, feel it. We mourned it, me and my friends.
Sinéad? Misunderstood? Which chicken, which egg?
What the world did to Sinéad was death by a thousand cuts. The world lauded her, worshipped her, bought her, sold her, forgave her, claimed her, disavowed her. Over and over in cycles. How could anyone survive that? Like a piece of metal getting bent over and over and over again. It breaks.
She began as a fragile person. A fragile artist. Which is why her songs were so beautiful and powerful to begin with. A raw heart. A mother. Not an idea, not a theoretical. A person.
The world loved the taste of her. The world didn’t know how to digest her. The world spit her out.
She never apologized for ripping up that picture of the pope. When asked later, she said “I’m not sorry I did it. It was brilliant”.
It was.
She was.
Never forget this woman.
Let her memory guide us.
Let them scream at you, but do not stop singing.
Never apologize just to make them happy, to make them go away, to “get along”, to make them accept you.
No, no, no.
Me say War.
Sinéad….rest in world-changing ripped paper phoenix-pieces from the stage, rising and burning into the white night stars. Find peace at last. I hope you forgive us what we could not give you.
Sinéad.
She was fierceness and honestly incarnate.
She howled her heart out so purely that people had no idea what to make of it.
This is a woman who ripped up a picture of the pope on Saturday Night Live (when it had no ”safety delay”) to draw attention to the sex abuse happening in the Catholic Church, after delivering “War” by Bob Marley, a cappella:
Until the philosophy which hold one race
Superior and another Inferior
Is finally
And permanently
Discredited
And abandoned
Everywhere is war.
Twelve days later she took the stage at Madison Square Garden for a Bob Dylan tribute festival and you could barely hear her sing over the boos and jeers from the crowd. She scrapped her planned Dylan song and screamed out “War” again, as the crowd tried to overpower her.
That feeling. Many women have been there. I have been there too, shaking, as it feels like the whole world is trying to shout and drown you out, and put you in your place. Wondering if I am the crazy one. Wondering if this many people are right. Or wrong. Or even real.
She was right about the church. She was very f*cking right.
She was right about so many things.
Now that she is dead, I know she’ll be lauded and applauded.
But back then? That night? How do you imagine she felt that night, crawling into bed, having been abused by a crowd of thousands? How would you feel? What would that do to you? Would you care if the world turned around, forty years later, and said: “Sorry about that, you were actually very brave?”
This is a woman who boycotted the Grammys saying she did not want “to be part of a world that measures artistic ability by material success.” This is a woman who refused to play US national anthem before certain concerts. That went down reallll well, too.
She was hated, she was scorned, she was cancelled for being honest over and over again. That SNL move was the beginning of the end of a career in many ways. She never recovered.
Too much, they said. Go away.
She used her voice. She kept on speaking.
She was loud. Being a loud woman is not f*cking convenient, for anyone. Ever. Not around here.
She was strikingly beautiful. She shaved her head and gave the middle finger to the beauty standard. She wore combat boots and jeans. She opened her mouth to the max, literally. She did not mumble; she roared. She inspired me into taking power; she inspired so many of my friends. She showed us all another way. There’s this way, too. Go this way, she seemed to be screaming, GO.
Dismissed as crazy. She struggled, and she struggled, and she struggled. She was punished, she was mocked, she was ridiculed.
She retreated and came back time and time again, her roar ragged, her frustration jagged and visible. Painful. You could see it, feel it. We mourned it, me and my friends.
Sinéad? Misunderstood? Which chicken, which egg?
What the world did to Sinéad was death by a thousand cuts. The world lauded her, worshipped her, bought her, sold her, forgave her, claimed her, disavowed her. Over and over in cycles. How could anyone survive that? Like a piece of metal getting bent over and over and over again. It breaks.
She began as a fragile person. A fragile artist. Which is why her songs were so beautiful and powerful to begin with. A raw heart. A mother. Not an idea, not a theoretical. A person.
The world loved the taste of her. The world didn’t know how to digest her. The world spit her out.
She never apologized for ripping up that picture of the pope. When asked later, she said “I’m not sorry I did it. It was brilliant”.
It was.
She was.
Never forget this woman.
Let her memory guide us.
Let them scream at you, but do not stop singing.
Never apologize just to make them happy, to make them go away, to “get along”, to make them accept you.
No, no, no.
Me say War.
Sinéad….rest in world-changing ripped paper phoenix-pieces from the stage, rising and burning into the white night stars. Find peace at last. I hope you forgive us what we could not give you.
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Re: Births Deaths And Marriages
You-know-who has a thing or two to say on the matter:
“She had only so much ‘self’ to give. She was dropped by her label after selling 7 million albums for them. She became crazed, yes, but uninteresting, never. She had done nothing wrong. She had proud vulnerability … and there is a certain music industry hatred for singers who don’t ‘fit in’ (this I know only too well), and they are never praised until death - when, finally, they can’t answer back.
The cruel playpen of fame gushes with praise for Sinead today … with the usual moronic labels of “icon” and “legend”. You praise her now ONLY because it is too late. You hadn’t the guts to support her when she was alive and she was looking for you. The press will label artists as pests because of what they withhold … and they would call Sinead sad, fat, shocking, insane … oh but not today!
Music CEOs who had put on their most charming smile as they refused her for their roster are queuing-up to call her a “feminist icon”, and 15 minute celebrities and goblins from hell and record labels of artificially aroused diversity are squeezing onto Twitter to twitter their jibber-jabber … when it was YOU who talked Sinead into giving up … because she refused to be labelled, and she was degraded, as those few who move the world are always degraded.
Why is ANYBODY surprised that Sinead O’Connor is dead? Who cared enough to save Judy Garland, Whitney Houston, Amy Winehouse, Marilyn Monroe, Billie Holiday? Where do you go when death can be the best outcome? Was this music madness worth Sinead’s life? No, it wasn’t.
She was a challenge, and she couldn’t be boxed-up, and she had the courage to speak when everyone else stayed safely silent. She was harassed simply for being herself. Her eyes finally closed in search of a soul she could call her own.
As always, the lamestreamers miss the ringing point, and with locked jaws they return to the insultingly stupid “icon” and “legend” when last week words far more cruel and dismissive would have done. Tomorrow the fawning fops flip back to their online shitposts and their cosy Cancer Culture and their moral superiority and their obituaries of parroted vomit … all of which will catch you lying on days like today … when Sinead doesn’t need your sterile slop.”
MORRISSEY
26 July, 2023.
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Re: Births Deaths And Marriages
Just saw that, couldn't disagree with any of it. Although he isn't the only one who omits to mention her conversion to Islam a few years back.
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Re: Births Deaths And Marriages
Indeed, there is a lot of sanctimony about. She did not get too much love and personal respect when she was alive.
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- The Mindsweep
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Re: Births Deaths And Marriages
Shame that one. Real influential songs writer and guitarist. Some of his stuff with the The Band is outstanding
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Re: Births Deaths And Marriages
Parkinson was a must-watch back in the day. He performed the task stylishly, let the guest have the floor. Made it seem he was genuinely interested and performed the task effortlessly. Will always remember the time Muhammed Ali turned on him.
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Re: Births Deaths And Marriages
I think you will find it was Rod's Emu and not Rod that rattled Parky.
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Re: Births Deaths And Marriages
Mohammed al Fayed aged 94 - former owner of Fulham FC
Gotta say, I thought he'd passed on years ago.
Gotta say, I thought he'd passed on years ago.
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