Las Vegas Weekly: "Should Morrissey Fans Allow His Ugly Recent Rhetoric To Affect Their Love Of His Music?" by Geoff Carter (August 26, 2021)

Here's a (somewhat) balanced attempt by Geoff Carter to grapple with the issues around Morrissey fandom these days, in Las Vegas Weekly.

Text below:

In August 1986, I saw The Smiths perform in Irvine, California. My friend and I went to the show on a last-minute impulse, snagging tickets from Tower Records and driving directly to the show. Before that night I was, at best, a passive Smiths fan, but the crackerjack 75-minute set delivered that night opened my eyes. And Morrissey, whom I’d previously underrated as a frontman, wowed me with his energy, sincerity and his intensely personal connection to the audience.

“I hope that the security don’t ruin your night too much, but I’m sure that they’ll do their best,” he said, after a yellowshirt handled a fan too roughly for his liking. “But never mind. They’re outnumbered.”

It was a proper piss-off, and it won me over instantly. After the show I bought every Smiths single and LP I could get my hands on. I internalized the lyrics of “The Boy With the Thorn in His Side,” “Nowhere Fast” and “How Soon Is Now,” contorting my very American teenaged perspective to align with that of an outspoken, possibly celibate vegetarian from Manchester, England. And when The Smiths dissolved a year later, and Morrissey embarked on his storied career as a solo artist, I kept listening, though with less fervor and fidelity. Generally speaking, I lost touch with Morrissey’s career shortly after You Are the Quarry in 2004.

That being said, it feels strange to say that I’m on the fence about checking out Morrissey’s weeklong residency at Caesars Palace. I mean, it’s Morrissey, right? “Everyday Is Like Sunday?” “First of the Gang to Die?” “Suedehead?” There’s little doubt that, were I go to one of these shows, I’d hear several songs I like and several more I unequivocally love. And though I haven’t seen Morrissey perform live since the late 1990s, friends tell me he hasn’t lost a step as an entertainer—provided, of course, that he actually shows up. (Morrissey has canceled so many gigs over the years, punk parody site The Hard Times got a solid piece out of it without much effort. The headline: “Morrissey Ranks His Most Iconic Canceled Performances.”)

But I can’t get past his big mouth, which—to paraphrase a Smiths classic—strikes again and again. Morrissey has always been outspoken, but his ire used to be directed at the British royal family and anyone currently eating a cheeseburger, whereas his recent interviews have been marred by intolerant, nationalistic and seemingly racist statements.

In a September 2010 interview with The Guardian, he described the Chinese people as a “subspecies” due to what he perceived as a systemic mistreatment of animals. In a 2017 interview with Der Speigel, he casually dismissed Hollywood’s victims of sexual assault: “[Throughout history], almost everyone is guilty of sleeping with minors. Why don’t we throw everyone in jail?” And in recent years, he’s put his support behind the anti-Islam group For Britain, even wearing its pin during a Tonight Show performance. The context around these comments—nearly always tied, in some way or another, to animal rights issues—doesn’t mitigate them.

It comes down to an essential question Los Angeles Times writer Randall Roberts asked in an October 2019 article about Morrissey: “Which is more powerful, the thrill that rushes into your spirit when you connect with a song or album, or the disappointment that comes with realizing you don’t share essential values with its creator?” It’s a question we’ve all had to ask ourselves these past few years—about J.K. Rowling, Michael Jackson and many others. It’s not as easy as “separating the art from the artist,” when the art is so deeply personal. How does “It takes guts to be gentle and kind” (from “I Know It’s Over”) sit comfortably along Morrissey’s June 2019 assertion that “everyone ultimately prefers their own race?”

I can’t answer this. Not yet. And I won’t judge the decisions made by others. I have a number of friends—many of them Mexican-Americans, a community in which Moz enjoys Elvis-like stardom—who are going to one or more of the Caesars shows, and I’m not about to tell them they’re wrong to do it. And truthfully, Morrissey would probably be grossed out by me, as well—a typical clueless Yank, seconds away from his next In-N-Out Burger. But I’ll continue to wrestle with this in my heart long after Morrissey’s Vegas residency has come and gone. His ugly rhetoric hasn’t yet diminished my love for The Smiths, but he’s trying his best.
 
What truth has JK Rowling spoken?

The truth that there is a difference between sex and gender.

“If sex isn’t real, there’s no same-sex attraction. If sex isn’t real, the lived reality of women globally is erased. I know and love trans people, but erasing the concept of sex removes the ability of many to meaningfully discuss their lives. It isn’t hate to speak the truth.
The idea that women like me, who’ve been empathetic to trans people for decades, feeling kinship because they’re vulnerable in the same way as women—i.e., to male violence—‘hate’ trans people because they think sex is real and has lived consequences—is a nonsense.
I respect every trans person’s right to live any way that feels authentic and comfortable to them. I’d march with you if you were discriminated against on the basis of being trans. At the same time, my life has been shaped by being female. I do not believe it’s hateful to say so.”
 
When criticism of Islamic extremists gets you labelled as racist it just shows how f***ed up the UK now is.
 
Here's a (somewhat) balanced attempt by Geoff Carter to grapple with the issues around Morrissey fandom these days, in Las Vegas Weekly.

Text below:

In August 1986, I saw The Smiths perform in Irvine, California. My friend and I went to the show on a last-minute impulse, snagging tickets from Tower Records and driving directly to the show. Before that night I was, at best, a passive Smiths fan, but the crackerjack 75-minute set delivered that night opened my eyes. And Morrissey, whom I’d previously underrated as a frontman, wowed me with his energy, sincerity and his intensely personal connection to the audience.

“I hope that the security don’t ruin your night too much, but I’m sure that they’ll do their best,” he said, after a yellowshirt handled a fan too roughly for his liking. “But never mind. They’re outnumbered.”

It was a proper piss-off, and it won me over instantly. After the show I bought every Smiths single and LP I could get my hands on. I internalized the lyrics of “The Boy With the Thorn in His Side,” “Nowhere Fast” and “How Soon Is Now,” contorting my very American teenaged perspective to align with that of an outspoken, possibly celibate vegetarian from Manchester, England. And when The Smiths dissolved a year later, and Morrissey embarked on his storied career as a solo artist, I kept listening, though with less fervor and fidelity. Generally speaking, I lost touch with Morrissey’s career shortly after You Are the Quarry in 2004.

That being said, it feels strange to say that I’m on the fence about checking out Morrissey’s weeklong residency at Caesars Palace. I mean, it’s Morrissey, right? “Everyday Is Like Sunday?” “First of the Gang to Die?” “Suedehead?” There’s little doubt that, were I go to one of these shows, I’d hear several songs I like and several more I unequivocally love. And though I haven’t seen Morrissey perform live since the late 1990s, friends tell me he hasn’t lost a step as an entertainer—provided, of course, that he actually shows up. (Morrissey has canceled so many gigs over the years, punk parody site The Hard Times got a solid piece out of it without much effort. The headline: “Morrissey Ranks His Most Iconic Canceled Performances.”)

But I can’t get past his big mouth, which—to paraphrase a Smiths classic—strikes again and again. Morrissey has always been outspoken, but his ire used to be directed at the British royal family and anyone currently eating a cheeseburger, whereas his recent interviews have been marred by intolerant, nationalistic and seemingly racist statements.

In a September 2010 interview with The Guardian, he described the Chinese people as a “subspecies” due to what he perceived as a systemic mistreatment of animals. In a 2017 interview with Der Speigel, he casually dismissed Hollywood’s victims of sexual assault: “[Throughout history], almost everyone is guilty of sleeping with minors. Why don’t we throw everyone in jail?” And in recent years, he’s put his support behind the anti-Islam group For Britain, even wearing its pin during a Tonight Show performance. The context around these comments—nearly always tied, in some way or another, to animal rights issues—doesn’t mitigate them.

It comes down to an essential question Los Angeles Times writer Randall Roberts asked in an October 2019 article about Morrissey: “Which is more powerful, the thrill that rushes into your spirit when you connect with a song or album, or the disappointment that comes with realizing you don’t share essential values with its creator?” It’s a question we’ve all had to ask ourselves these past few years—about J.K. Rowling, Michael Jackson and many others. It’s not as easy as “separating the art from the artist,” when the art is so deeply personal. How does “It takes guts to be gentle and kind” (from “I Know It’s Over”) sit comfortably along Morrissey’s June 2019 assertion that “everyone ultimately prefers their own race?”

I can’t answer this. Not yet. And I won’t judge the decisions made by others. I have a number of friends—many of them Mexican-Americans, a community in which Moz enjoys Elvis-like stardom—who are going to one or more of the Caesars shows, and I’m not about to tell them they’re wrong to do it. And truthfully, Morrissey would probably be grossed out by me, as well—a typical clueless Yank, seconds away from his next In-N-Out Burger. But I’ll continue to wrestle with this in my heart long after Morrissey’s Vegas residency has come and gone. His ugly rhetoric hasn’t yet diminished my love for The Smiths, but he’s trying his best.
He is not wrong about any of theses issues. Those who say their values dont align are dishonest, ifnorant at beat. You know nothing of animal treatmwnt in China, no clue about the fundemental Islamist in Britain, you’re an insane, weak minded group thinker. We don’t need you here anymore bye bye.
 
The truth that there is a difference between sex and gender.

“If sex isn’t real, there’s no same-sex attraction. If sex isn’t real, the lived reality of women globally is erased. I know and love trans people, but erasing the concept of sex removes the ability of many to meaningfully discuss their lives. It isn’t hate to speak the truth.
The idea that women like me, who’ve been empathetic to trans people for decades, feeling kinship because they’re vulnerable in the same way as women—i.e., to male violence—‘hate’ trans people because they think sex is real and has lived consequences—is a nonsense.
I respect every trans person’s right to live any way that feels authentic and comfortable to them. I’d march with you if you were discriminated against on the basis of being trans. At the same time, my life has been shaped by being female. I do not believe it’s hateful to say so.”
It is strange... seems like just the other year that the whole point of transgender movements was to make the point that gender and sex are different. Seemed like a decent point. In some things, people could be categorized by gender. In other matters where biological difference matters, i.e. sports, sex would be the categorization.

But it seems like this has been forgotten/covered up? I see nobody making the point sex and gender are different these days. I thought that was the point.
 
Here's a (somewhat) balanced attempt by Geoff Carter to grapple with the issues around Morrissey fandom these days, in Las Vegas Weekly.

Text below:

In August 1986, I saw The Smiths perform in Irvine, California. My friend and I went to the show on a last-minute impulse, snagging tickets from Tower Records and driving directly to the show. Before that night I was, at best, a passive Smiths fan, but the crackerjack 75-minute set delivered that night opened my eyes. And Morrissey, whom I’d previously underrated as a frontman, wowed me with his energy, sincerity and his intensely personal connection to the audience.

“I hope that the security don’t ruin your night too much, but I’m sure that they’ll do their best,” he said, after a yellowshirt handled a fan too roughly for his liking. “But never mind. They’re outnumbered.”

It was a proper piss-off, and it won me over instantly. After the show I bought every Smiths single and LP I could get my hands on. I internalized the lyrics of “The Boy With the Thorn in His Side,” “Nowhere Fast” and “How Soon Is Now,” contorting my very American teenaged perspective to align with that of an outspoken, possibly celibate vegetarian from Manchester, England. And when The Smiths dissolved a year later, and Morrissey embarked on his storied career as a solo artist, I kept listening, though with less fervor and fidelity. Generally speaking, I lost touch with Morrissey’s career shortly after You Are the Quarry in 2004.

That being said, it feels strange to say that I’m on the fence about checking out Morrissey’s weeklong residency at Caesars Palace. I mean, it’s Morrissey, right? “Everyday Is Like Sunday?” “First of the Gang to Die?” “Suedehead?” There’s little doubt that, were I go to one of these shows, I’d hear several songs I like and several more I unequivocally love. And though I haven’t seen Morrissey perform live since the late 1990s, friends tell me he hasn’t lost a step as an entertainer—provided, of course, that he actually shows up. (Morrissey has canceled so many gigs over the years, punk parody site The Hard Times got a solid piece out of it without much effort. The headline: “Morrissey Ranks His Most Iconic Canceled Performances.”)

But I can’t get past his big mouth, which—to paraphrase a Smiths classic—strikes again and again. Morrissey has always been outspoken, but his ire used to be directed at the British royal family and anyone currently eating a cheeseburger, whereas his recent interviews have been marred by intolerant, nationalistic and seemingly racist statements.

In a September 2010 interview with The Guardian, he described the Chinese people as a “subspecies” due to what he perceived as a systemic mistreatment of animals. In a 2017 interview with Der Speigel, he casually dismissed Hollywood’s victims of sexual assault: “[Throughout history], almost everyone is guilty of sleeping with minors. Why don’t we throw everyone in jail?” And in recent years, he’s put his support behind the anti-Islam group For Britain, even wearing its pin during a Tonight Show performance. The context around these comments—nearly always tied, in some way or another, to animal rights issues—doesn’t mitigate them.

It comes down to an essential question Los Angeles Times writer Randall Roberts asked in an October 2019 article about Morrissey: “Which is more powerful, the thrill that rushes into your spirit when you connect with a song or album, or the disappointment that comes with realizing you don’t share essential values with its creator?” It’s a question we’ve all had to ask ourselves these past few years—about J.K. Rowling, Michael Jackson and many others. It’s not as easy as “separating the art from the artist,” when the art is so deeply personal. How does “It takes guts to be gentle and kind” (from “I Know It’s Over”) sit comfortably along Morrissey’s June 2019 assertion that “everyone ultimately prefers their own race?”

I can’t answer this. Not yet. And I won’t judge the decisions made by others. I have a number of friends—many of them Mexican-Americans, a community in which Moz enjoys Elvis-like stardom—who are going to one or more of the Caesars shows, and I’m not about to tell them they’re wrong to do it. And truthfully, Morrissey would probably be grossed out by me, as well—a typical clueless Yank, seconds away from his next In-N-Out Burger. But I’ll continue to wrestle with this in my heart long after Morrissey’s Vegas residency has come and gone. His ugly rhetoric hasn’t yet diminished my love for The Smiths, but he’s trying his best.

Morrissey's "ugly rhetoric" , is why you attempted to even write some waste of space-fill up the page with what ? Rather..... Tonight is your BIG Show Morrissey ! Be the grand master of your domain and bloody well whip the bastards but good ! Fire off some spicy commentary on Big-Pharma nut jobs and Dr. Strangevax! Great oldies for your show Morrissey may be Harry Belafonte Day-O, Bobby Mac Farlane, "Don't Worry, BE Happy." AND ofcorse Sammy Davis Jr., "Candy Man." WE expect to hear atleast one of these tunes , with the bloody price of those tickets. Good luck laddie.....you've done this a million times before .....ON with the show !👍👍
 
Mask mandates are in effect for indoor concerts in Las Vegas. Masks are at the ready and will be thrown at Quilloughby on night one, aka his final concert ever. Can’t wait to read about him storming off the stage for the last time in his pathetic life.
Morrissey gases up the masks and mandates you wear it cupcake. So there !
 
It seems that this guy needs to do psychotherapy to answer the disturbing doubts that Moz generates in his intense life... oh what reflections he makes... it has left me thinking!!!! How important this man's opinion must be to Morrissey!!!! :rofl: :guitar::guitar::drama::drama:
That's a good one ! Hilarious actually !
 
It is strange... seems like just the other year that the whole point of transgender movements was to make the point that gender and sex are different. Seemed like a decent point. In some things, people could be categorized by gender. In other matters where biological difference matters, i.e. sports, sex would be the categorization.

But it seems like this has been forgotten/covered up? I see nobody making the point sex and gender are different these days. I thought that was the point.
Think less about the idea, and more about the social effects: if there is a truth in thoughts, it lies only in their power to change things; not in the independent rigour of their content.

Today’s progressives will be tomorrow’s ‘out of touch’ fascists.
 
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Think less about the idea, and more about the social effects: if there is a truth in thoughts, it lies only in their power to change things; not in the independent rigour of their content.

Today’s progressives will be tomorrow’s fascists.
Oh no ! Someone with a functioning mind ! The machine fears that !
 
Moz all the best for you tonight don't get nervous, guaranteed talent Moz opens his mouth and says and sings like no other!!!! Mozulisss I love you :bow: :rofl::rofl::bow::bow:❤️❤️ViVa TUTIMOZZ!!!
 
You stupid idiots never..........ever.............fukcin learn.


Dewsbury: Four immigrants/descent have been jailed for a total of nearly 40 years after being convicted of kidnapping a teenage boy and subjecting him to a "terrifying ordeal".
They crashed into the 17-year-old victim’s car and assaulted him before forcing him into another vehicle. He was repeatedly beaten and transferred between different vehicles before managing to get away and seek help.
• Amar Khan was sentenced to nine years imprisonment.
• Jhazeb Khan was sentenced to nine years imprisonment.
• Shahzeb Khan was sentenced to 10 years and nine months imprisonment.
• Ansar Qayum was sentenced to 10 years and nine months imprisonment.
Another man Harun Nawaz was sentenced to 18 months imprisonment for assisting an offender in relation to this case.
The police have also issued a wanted appeal for another man who has been linked to this offence. Detectives have released a picture of Aftab Khan who is wanted on suspicion of kidnap. He is believed to still be in the Thornhill Lees/Dewsbury area."
And what exactly are we supposed to 'learn' from that? Some immigrants commit crimes, often heinous ones. So what? Some British-born people commit heinous crimes too. What's the difference?

Right-wing paranoia, that's all this is. Reds under the bed, paedos on every street corner, scary Muslims 'invading' the country so they can bomb your train and rape your kids. It's been going on for decades, it's the same old media-fed, sensationalist, fact-free bullshit and it's always sucked up by angry, frightened right-wingers every single time. Grow up.
 
Did you vote for Biden? How embarrassing for you. Trump looks like a genius compared to this guy.
I'm British and live in the UK so no, I didn't vote in the US election. But I know about half a dozen Americans who did, and none of them voted "for Biden". They all voted "against Trump". A subtle difference that you really should try and take on board. A lot of right-wingers seem to think every time Biden f***s up it's proof of how 'the lefties' got it wrong. No, they got it exactly right - they wanted Trump out and they achieved it. They would have voted for a dog turd if it meant they didn't have to put up with another four years of that utter disgrace to office still swanning around the White House.

And in case you aren't aware, it was Trump who agreed the withdrawal deal with the Taliban in the first place (freeing hundreds of their POWs as a payoff, btw). Some genius he is.
 
Think less about the idea, and more about the social effects: if there is a truth in thoughts, it lies only in their power to change things; not in the independent rigour of their content.

Today’s progressives will be tomorrow’s ‘out of touch’ fascists.
Is that your story?
 
This is a perfectly reasonable article. Why is it that Morrissey and a fair number of Morrissey fans who always *demand* Morrissey be taken seriously cannot handle it when he and his statements and interviews are taken seriously?
What good could be said about a group of people that eat dogs or a religion that mutilates young girls and does not value women?
 
What good could be said about a group of people that eat dogs or a religion that mutilates young girls and does not value women?

What about a group of people that eat cows? Or a religion that discriminates against homosexuals?
 

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