World Domination.

[Curt Chiarelli]

Originally Posted by chrispenycate

Now, wait a minute guys; I've no objection to either of you taking over the planet _ I can't see how the evil master minds can do that much worse than the present supposed "good guys" - but a domination based on whether the "Bay city rollers" were more annoying than the "Jackson five" or Slade was more mind numbing than The Monkees? If this goes on, I could be forced out of retirement, and I warn you both I wouldn't hesitate to use the New Cristy Minstrels as a weapon of mass distraction, or transmit "Winchester cathedral continuously across all radio channels until mass submission is achieved. Na.

The situation is grave indeed . . . . a third column of limitless power is asserting himself now, upsetting the delicate balance of world politics even as I write this, what could be the last entry of mankind before its backslide into a new Dark Age of insanity, death and mutual annihilation . . . .

Okay, amateur theatrics aside, let's parlay shall we? At our summit meeting we'll negotiate for all these other perversions of music to continue existing. As for the rest, my minions are poised, ready to strike with their tape de-gaussing units, to spring into action with surgical precision upon unsuspecting music vaults across the globe. What BMG, Polydor and EMI hath not set asunder my guys will pick up the slack . . . .

Yet some denigrations of the musical art I cannot abide. There are others, many others. Their time shall come soon enough. But for now and the sake of the future prosperity of sound recording technicians everywhere we shall limit our "disposal operations" to the following hit (man) list:

- Pat Boone



- David Hasselhoff



- Heino



My reasons are complex, deeply neurotic and long-winded and are stated here only to sate the morbidly curious:

Pat Boone. His presence is single-handedly responsible for ruining one of my favourite films from childhood, Journey to the Centre of the Earth. Think of it: an arch James Mason, a delicious Arlene Dahl, a sharply-paced, witty screenplay by Lee Brackett (although her husband Charles was given the credit) and Bernard Herrmann's towering cathedral of orchestral colour cascading down upon the whole work, enveloping the mise en scene with all the majesty and dark mystery of Verne's original vision. A masterpiece of movie magic in the making, you say? But wait, what's this? What's this pre-fab, yodeling lump of anodyne teen estrogen-soaked whimsy? Why it's none other than Pat Boone! NOOOOOOO!!!

I mean, Gertrude the Duck has more personality than this drip and she became a snack, courtesy of one of the film's more intrigueing characters, Count Saknussen . . . . who, in turn, also dies a colourful and richly deserved demise. Hell, even the Count's groom, with his 3.5 seconds of screen time, had more appeal. And, then again, he died too. Are you seeing a pattern here? Somewhere in the works I feel the hand of Pat's manager moving the backstage levers, eliminating the competition . . . .

Who are we kidding, the plaster stalactites have more character than this guy.

And all we needed as a corrective measure to this egregious lapse in casting and crass marketing and corporate greed was for Pat to place his clodhoppers onto a crumbling precipice, plunging 20,000 fathoms to the bottom of a shaft or be swallowed by a lava floe or - more satisfying still - become an Hors D'Oeuvres for a pack of roving Dimetrodons.

But no. In the end I was grateful for the eruption of the volcano, a moment pregnant with possibilities of seeing Pat end up as fish fodder at the bottom of the Adriatic. So, what happens? He ends up alive and buck stark naked in an olive tree in a convent courtyard. The nuns should have flayed him with rods and drove him back into the sea whence he came.

Another golden childhood memory forever sullied and perverted by the backstage manuevering and markerting puppetmasters at 20th Century Fox. Thanks guys!

And then it happened. Again.

Segue 25 years ahead to the summer of 1997. Like the Bubonic Plague striking Europe in a double-whammy, Pat Boone lifted his unctuous, microcephalic vocal ululations into the soundscape of my life again. This time the medium of choice was more insidious: the eagerly-awaited world-premier release of Bernard Herrmann's soundtrack score on the Varese Sarabande label. There it was, Pat crooning to a besotted Carol Baker, My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose and even the track that 20th Century Fox's marketing department was eager to suppress from the public for over 40 years, If I Was Twice as Tall. It ruined what could have been a rich listening experience for me and millions of other Bernard Herrmann fans. Damn you, Varese Sarabande! Damn you Pat Boone!

Folks, my index finger is sore from hitting the "Skip" button on my DVD and CD players. Let the cycle of abuse end, now and forever. He goes.

As for Hasselhoff, he clutters up the beautiful "scenery" on re-runs of Baywatch and the vocal paroxyms which glibly pass for his singing sound like 2 goats mating, one of which is suffering from terminal gonerrhea. His catalogue goes. (Your Loyal Author, wringing his hands and twirling his waxed handlebar moustatche, intones in his best Madame DeFarge imitation, "Guillotine!!! Guillotine!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!")

And frankly, Heino just scares the living Hell out of me. Say, "Bye, bye"! It's good to be King!

[chrispenycate]

Speaking as the representative of recording engineers and sound technicians worldwide, the more mediocre tapes you can wipe the better we like it. It forces the record companies to produce new material rather than continuously reissue the junk they couldn't sell thirty years ago as compilations or historical interest. Furthermore, almost any artist you choose to eliminate from the potential of rerecording his previous catalogue (either by surgically removing vocal chords, or, slightly less surgically, heads) I'll probably volunteer to hold down for the process.
Unfortunately hit tunes are more difficult; too many copies hanging around on too many computers, and even a worldwide electro-magnetic pulse, won't clean all the CD's, cassettes and backups around; Fahrenheit 451 has nothing on the problem. I can couple the CIA's selective eavesdropping technology with the copyright authorities' melody recgnition programs, so anyone who whistled "Wincheter lineman" was immediately eliminated from the gene pool; actually, this is starting to sound like a much more interesting job than world dictator.
And in my copious spare time I can concentrate or recording the new artists the record companies are forced to hire to prevent their immediate dismemberment by music-starved audiences.
So, when do I get the "extreme predudice" list?

[Curt Chiarelli]

Originally Posted by chrispenycate

Speaking as the representative of recording engineers and sound technicians worldwide, the more mediocre tapes you can wipe the better we like it. It forces the record companies to produce new material rather than continuously reissue the junk they couldn't sell thirty years ago as compilations or historical interest. Furthermore, almost any artist you choose to eliminate from the potential of rerecording his previous catalogue (either by surgically removing vocal chords, or, slightly less surgically, heads) I'll probably volunteer to hold down for the process.
Unfortunately hit tunes are more difficult; too many copies hanging around on too many computers, and even a worldwide electro-magnetic pulse, won't clean all the CD's, cassettes and backups around; Fahrenheit 451 has nothing on the problem. I can couple the CIA's selective eavesdropping technology with the copyright authorities' melody recgnition programs, so anyone who whistled "Wincheter lineman" was immediately eliminated from the gene pool; actually, this is starting to sound like a much more interesting job than world dictator.
And in my copious spare time I can concentrate or recording the new artists the record companies are forced to hire to prevent their immediate dismemberment by music-starved audiences.
So, when do I get the "extreme predudice" list?

Excellent . . . . our movement is gaining momentum . . . . and henchmen!!! Expect a black stretch limosine to arrive at your home any moment now to deliver your sealed "hit" list!

[pyan]

Here's one to start with.........

[Curt Chiarelli]

Originally Posted by pyanfaruk

Here's one to start with.........

LOL Oh yes . . . . .

[Paige Turner]

Originally Posted by Curt Chiarelli

Pat Boone. His presence is single-handedly responsible for ruining one of my favourite films from childhood, Journey to the Centre of the Earth.

Oh, but the sheep scene! Hubba, hubba! And he nailed that Scottish accent, too. And the poetry of the immortal Robbie Burns set to music and brought to life by that beautiful, melodious voice. Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgosity made flesh!( Now I'm humming with my eyes closed.)

My love is like a red, red rose…

[Paige Turner]

Originally Posted by pyanfaruk

Here's one to start with.........

No matter what you've experienced in your life, you are not ready for
http://www.alteringtime.com/features/misc/?p=baggins

[Curt Chiarelli]

Originally Posted by Paige Turner

Oh, but the sheep scene! Hubba, hubba! And he nailed that Scottish accent, too. And the poetry of the immortal Robbie Burns set to music and brought to life by that beautiful, melodious voice. Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgosity made flesh!( Now I'm humming with my eyes closed.)

My love is like a red, red rose…

You know Paige, I'm tempted to explain this infatuation away by teen hormonal overdrive and an overindulgence in chocolate, but in your case I'll make an exception. Now I know for certain that you've completely taken leave of your senses. But I suppose that's an occupational hazard of being a Super Villain bent upon world conquest . . . .

And yes, Leonard's transgressions have been noted . . . . they're like staring into the maw of an Elder God - they induce insanity.

[Paige Turner]

Originally Posted by Curt Chiarelli

Now I know for certain that you've completely taken leave of your senses.

I'm easily impressed by any crooner who gets into Robert Halford's bondage gear and has a go at H. Metal. (Are you listening, Tony Bennett?)

[pyan]

Originally Posted by Paige Turner

No matter what you've experienced in your life, you are not ready for
Altering Time - The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins

LOL: I tried that link, and my browser closed down!

[Curt Chiarelli]

Originally Posted by pyanfaruk

LOL: I tried that link, and my browser closed down!

Now we have proof positive that he's a Servitor of the Old Ones! Grooooovy . . . . .

[pyan]

Outer God

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Lesser Outer Gods

The Lesser Outer Gods (Guardians of the Outer Hells, The Other Gods) are mysterious protectors of the Dreamlands' gods, the weak Great Ones. To disturb them or the Great Ones is foolish and is often disastrous. They are at the sway of Azathoth in his hyperdimensional court, which they rarely leave, forever piping and dancing to incomprehensible tunes.

forever piping and dancing to incomprehensible tunes.

And that proves it!

[j. d. worthington]

Originally Posted by pyanfaruk

And that proves it!

N.B.: I don't dance! I only listen.....

[Harpo]

WMDs:

James Last
Ronnie Aldrich & His Two Pianos
Frank Chacksfield

and I'm not afraid to use them!

[Rosemary]

I have the Wombles of Wimbledon singing their version of the big hit ' Down Under' ...this will of course draw all of the Aussie currently in various parts of London. A large protest meeting will be held in Hyde Park Corner....

*Rosie makes sure that her sword is sharp (ouch!)*
Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi....