If ever there was a bad day to throw a tantrum, it is Sunday. It is the day when God is most judgmental. So don’t be surprised if you are struck dead by some crazy intervention after throwing a shit fit in the alert eyes of the Lord. You have been warned. Amen.
Madonna is the rivulet that merges into the raging river called The Doors. Together they flow downstream into a vast ocean of insignificance. Their molecules mingle to the point where it might as well be the molecules of long forgotten idols like Rudy Vallée or The Fat Boys. Slowly they will lose relevance as new pop stars repeat the process as if none of this had happened before.
This is notable, and not only that, it is further proof that math works in mysterious ways. Substitution and replacement are among the math theorems, which provide truth and magic to the merging of Fleetwood Mac and Journey. A side note, Fleetwood Mac is touring without Lindsey Buckingham later this year. Instead, Mike Campbell and Neil Finn will fill his vacant shoes.
That lady, she’s a tramp, la da dee da da da, she’s homeless, in fact, la da dee da da da. Luck be a lady tonight, for she is an outrageous cur. Fly me to the moon, gypsies, tramps and thieves.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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