Brooklyn show 9/24

docinwestchester

Well-Known Member
Preview in this week's New Yorker:

http://www.newyorker.com/goings-on-about-town/night-life/morrissey-3

zaJj85.jpg
 
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Interesting. Mystery solved I guess and thanks for the sneak peak
 
So the cancer patch bleeding from the throat thingie was a ploy, a joke.

What a ridiculous assclown.
 
i dont understand the meaning of the bandage being a joke, but i must say i can understand the wearing of one as a prop. to me, the idea of wearing a bandage on the outside to show some sort of present affliction seems to make sense. people might think it's attention seeking, but i dont think so. it seems to me along the same lines of why people get tattoos. a desire to be seen as you are; to make an affliction a part of your identity; a way of saying "this is what i am about" or "this is where i am, now". only unlike with tattoos which are silly and which often have dumb meanings personal to the bozo who picked it out and who likely thought he was being very deep or profound at the time, we all understand what a bandage implies.

and now, to illustrate this, because i enjoy talking about myself, allow me to tell a story from my youth!

i was about 9 years old, maybe a bit younger. it was winter, in the canadian rockies. since i can remember my dad has always been ski obsessed and insisted on dragging us along on his ski trips, either because he wanted us to love it as much as him (i never succeeded in doing so), or because he himself wanted to go and didnt have anyone else to take us. well one such ski trip occured on a day when it was -30 celsius (although likely even colder than that at the top of the hill, and not to mention there was a bitter wind). about half way through the day i couldnt take it anymore and began to cry because i was that cold. my dad, in his characteristic "should-have-been-a-drill-sergeant" way, yelled at me to "toughen up". i imagine he thought i was just exaggerating (as he always has. the reason why he thought, and continues to think, this is, to this day, beyond me: i was the kind of person who would wait until i almost pissed myself before going to the bathroom because it seemed self-indulgent to want to go at the first sign of discomfort), because i didnt care about ruining his day skiing. so, to all outward appearances i "toughened up" and we continued skiing. then, on the chairlift, he noticed that i had white circles forming on my bare cheeks: frost nip. at which point he suddenly became concerned and decided, to my relief, "oh, i guess we had better go in!" (it is worth noting that now he tells a different story, one where he omits the parts where i was crying and makes himself out to be the rescuer who swoops in just in time, while i, one imagines, was blithely unaware of the cold. and, because i guess it was actually a really cold day after all he sometimes adds "man, it was stupidly cold" in a tone that implies "haha weren't we crazy being out there" as though we were all guilty of being overly zealous ski nuts).
the point of this story is that it told me that to all the outside world it often isnt enough to assert that you are in distress-- there has to be some outward manifestation of it in order for a person to be believed or validated.
so like i said, i can understand the need for an outward manifestation of a wound that cant be seen.
but as for the bandage being joke, i dont think it's particularly funny. i mean, no matter how dark your humour, there's nothing particularly funny about cancer of the esophagus, is there? especially not cancer of the ever-so-necessary esophagus of my ever-so-necessary handsome blazer man :(
 
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i dont understand the meaning of the bandage being a joke, but i must say i can understand the wearing of one as a prop. to me, the idea of wearing a bandage on the outside to show some sort of present affliction seems to make sense. people might think it's attention seeking, but i dont think so. it seems to me along the same lines of why people get tattoos. a desire to be seen as you are; to make an affliction a part of your identity; a way of saying "this is what i am about" or "this is where i am, now". only unlike with tattoos which are silly and which often have dumb meanings personal to the bozo who picked it out and who likely thought he was being very deep or profound at the time, we all understand what a bandage implies.

and now, to illustrate this, because i enjoy talking about myself, allow me to tell a story from my youth!

i was about 9 years old, maybe a bit younger. it was winter, in the canadian rockies. since i can remember my dad has always been ski obsessed and insisted on dragging us along on his ski trips, either because he wanted us to love it as much as him (i never succeeded in doing so), or because he himself wanted to go and didnt have anyone else to take us. well one such ski trip occured on a day when it was -30 celsius (although likely even colder than that at the top of the hill, and not to mention there was a bitter wind). about half way through the day i couldnt take it anymore and began to cry because i was that cold. my dad, in his characteristic "should-have-been-a-drill-sergeant" way, yelled at me to "toughen up". i imagine he thought i was just exaggerating (as he always has. the reason why he thought, and continues to think, this is, to this day, beyond me: i was the kind of person who would wait until i almost pissed myself before going to the bathroom because it seemed self-indulgent to want to go at the first sign of discomfort), because i didnt care about ruining his day skiing. so, to all outward appearances i "toughened up" and we continued skiing. then, on the chairlift, he noticed that i had white circles forming on my bare cheeks: frost nip. at which point he suddenly became concerned and decided, to my relief, "oh, i guess we had better go in!" (it is worth noting that now he tells a different story, one where he omits the parts where i was crying and makes himself out to be the rescuer who swoops in just in time, while i, one imagines, was blithely unaware of the cold. and, because i guess it was actually a really cold day after all he sometimes adds "man, it was stupidly cold" in a tone that implies "haha weren't we crazy being out there" as though we were all guilty of being overly zealous ski nuts).
the point of this story is that it told me that to all the outside world it often isnt enough to assert that you are in distress-- there has to be some outward manifestation of it in order for a person to be believed or validated.
so like i said, i can understand the need for an outward manifestation of a wound that cant be seen.
but as for the bandage being joke, i dont think it's particularly funny. i mean, no matter how dark your humour, there's nothing particularly funny about cancer of the esophagus, is there? especially not cancer of the ever-so-necessary esophagus of my ever-so-necessary handsome blazer man :(

Spot on.
But Moz is some kind of king of dark humor and it has nothing to do with making fun of people who have cancer. He is mocking himself. Not anyone else. Cancer or no cancer.
Off course he knows it will be noticed and it is attention seeking and melodramatic but it is only part of the way he deals with it as an artist.
I like drama. I prefer melodrama above no drama at all.
So boring :sleeping:
 
Spot on.
But Moz is some kind of king of dark humor and it has nothing to do with making fun of people who have cancer. He is mocking himself. Not anyone else. Cancer or no cancer.
Off course he knows it will be noticed and it is attention seeking and melodramatic but it is only part of the way he deals with it as an artist.
I like drama. I prefer melodrama above no drama at all.
So boring :sleeping:
ohhhhhh perhaps i see what you mean! forgive me, my lovebugs cancer is just a touchy subject for me :(
 
ohhhhhh perhaps i see what you mean! forgive me, my lovebugs cancer is just a touchy subject for me :(

I know Rifke, I know. ;)
And if there is anybody who doesn't need to make ANY apology to me whatsoever it is you. :o
 
Hello,

I am traveling a few hours to the Brooklyn show and have a GA ticket. Does anyone know what time the queue will begin for the gig?
 
The theater as of now 3pm "didnt know" if theres an operner or what time Moz takes the stage. Any? thanks
 
Hey all,

I'm shortly to attend my first Morrissey concert. I'm pretty pysched about it. I really love the song "Will Never Marry", and I feel like it is particularly apt given the demographics of New York, so it'd be great if they'd play it here.

I do realize they played it during the 2015 tour. I wish I had gone to that one too. Oh well, I'm sure there'll be a lot of good songs tonight regardless. Anyone else rooting for WNM? Such a pretty song. I'm surprised it's a b-side.
 
i dont understand the meaning of the bandage being a joke, but i must say i can understand the wearing of one as a prop. to me, the idea of wearing a bandage on the outside to show some sort of present affliction seems to make sense. people might think it's attention seeking, but i dont think so. it seems to me along the same lines of why people get tattoos. a desire to be seen as you are; to make an affliction a part of your identity; a way of saying "this is what i am about" or "this is where i am, now". only unlike with tattoos which are silly and which often have dumb meanings personal to the bozo who picked it out and who likely thought he was being very deep or profound at the time, we all understand what a bandage implies.

and now, to illustrate this, because i enjoy talking about myself, allow me to tell a story from my youth!

i was about 9 years old, maybe a bit younger. it was winter, in the canadian rockies. since i can remember my dad has always been ski obsessed and insisted on dragging us along on his ski trips, either because he wanted us to love it as much as him (i never succeeded in doing so), or because he himself wanted to go and didnt have anyone else to take us. well one such ski trip occured on a day when it was -30 celsius (although likely even colder than that at the top of the hill, and not to mention there was a bitter wind). about half way through the day i couldnt take it anymore and began to cry because i was that cold. my dad, in his characteristic "should-have-been-a-drill-sergeant" way, yelled at me to "toughen up". i imagine he thought i was just exaggerating (as he always has. the reason why he thought, and continues to think, this is, to this day, beyond me: i was the kind of person who would wait until i almost pissed myself before going to the bathroom because it seemed self-indulgent to want to go at the first sign of discomfort), because i didnt care about ruining his day skiing. so, to all outward appearances i "toughened up" and we continued skiing. then, on the chairlift, he noticed that i had white circles forming on my bare cheeks: frost nip. at which point he suddenly became concerned and decided, to my relief, "oh, i guess we had better go in!" (it is worth noting that now he tells a different story, one where he omits the parts where i was crying and makes himself out to be the rescuer who swoops in just in time, while i, one imagines, was blithely unaware of the cold. and, because i guess it was actually a really cold day after all he sometimes adds "man, it was stupidly cold" in a tone that implies "haha weren't we crazy being out there" as though we were all guilty of being overly zealous ski nuts).
the point of this story is that it told me that to all the outside world it often isnt enough to assert that you are in distress-- there has to be some outward manifestation of it in order for a person to be believed or validated.
so like i said, i can understand the need for an outward manifestation of a wound that cant be seen.
but as for the bandage being joke, i dont think it's particularly funny. i mean, no matter how dark your humour, there's nothing particularly funny about cancer of the esophagus, is there? especially not cancer of the ever-so-necessary esophagus of my ever-so-necessary handsome blazer man :(

I think that when you’re battling cancer - actually battling cancer - you do not want any outward display of your illness and suffering. I know I don’t speak for every cancer sufferer in the world but I’ve witnessed enough (my husband, his mother, my granddad, a close friend) to know that when you are going through this ordeal, all you want is to not think about it for a while. Cancer is so overwhelming, so horrible, so all-consuming that all you want is to not talk about it, to not have people see it. My late husband, he didn’t put his scars on display. He covered up his surgical scars, bought himself a beanie and a pair of fake glasses to hide the fact that he had no eyebrows and went back to work because all he wanted was normality, all he wanted was to not think, to not speak about the f***ing illness for a little while.

So no, I'm fairly sure cancer patients don't want external displays of their cancer.

Unless they are trying to sell an image.

When I was young and “different” and scared, I loved so much about Morrissey. Now I just see an unscrupulous businessman, an opportunistic fool.
 
I think that when you’re battling cancer - actually battling cancer - you do not want any outward display of your illness and suffering. I know I don’t speak for every cancer sufferer in the world but I’ve witnessed enough (my husband, his mother, my granddad, a close friend) to know that when you are going through this ordeal, all you want is to not think about it for a while. Cancer is so overwhelming, so horrible, so all-consuming that all you want is to not talk about it, to not have people see it. My late husband, he didn’t put his scars on display. He covered up his surgical scars, bought himself a beanie and a pair of fake glasses to hide the fact that he had no eyebrows and went back to work because all he wanted was normality, all he wanted was to not think, to not speak about the f***ing illness for a little while.

So no, I'm fairly sure cancer patients don't want external displays of their cancer.

Unless they are trying to sell an image.

When I was young and “different” and scared, I loved so much about Morrissey. Now I just see an unscrupulous businessman, an opportunistic fool.
thank you for sharing your experience with us. from one gay man to another let me say i do not in any way equate what morrissey is going through to what the average full-blown cancer patient suffers. im talking about the kind of distress that cant be seen--not fullblown cancer which announces itself all over the place. i wasnt talking about the average cancer patient; i was talking about a person like morrissey, whose condition to some people isnt serious enough compared to "what other people have gone through" to be validated. just because other people have suffered worse doesnt mean that it's all still not very upsetting for him. cancer may be the worst thing a person can go through; but that doesnt mean that anything that isnt full-blown cancer isnt still very upsetting and doesnt deserve to be validated. it's the difference between wanting to make an occupation of your affliction--which i think is natural, and even healthy as a way of self-expression, when you're still in control and a large component of that affliction is mental or emotional--and your affliction making an occupation of you, which is the case with cancer, where you've lost that control.

anyways, enough of that! more importantly, whats up with you?! are you still basking in the greek sun with your sizzling boytoy?! having many frenzied bacchanalian orgies?! do you feed each other grapes whilst crowned with laurel leaves?! how do you spend your days?!
 
thank you for sharing your experience with us. from one gay man to another let me say i do not in any way equate what morrissey is going through to what the average full-blown cancer patient suffers. im talking about the kind of distress that cant be seen--not fullblown cancer which announces itself all over the place. i wasnt talking about the average cancer patient; i was talking about a person like morrissey, whose condition to some people isnt serious enough compared to "what other people have gone through" to be validated. just because other people have suffered worse doesnt mean that it's all still not very upsetting for him. cancer may be the worst thing a person can go through; but that doesnt mean that anything that isnt full-blown cancer isnt still very upsetting and doesnt deserve to be validated. it's the difference between wanting to make an occupation of your affliction--which i think is natural, and even healthy as a way of self-expression, when you're still in control and a large component of that affliction is mental or emotional--and your affliction making an occupation of you, which is the case with cancer, where you've lost that control.

anyways, enough of that! more importantly, whats up with you?! are you still basking in the greek sun with your sizzling boytoy?! having many frenzied bacchanalian orgies?! do you feed each other grapes whilst crowned with laurel leaves?! how do you spend your days?!

This is nice little bunny. I'm glad you could open your heart :flowers:
 
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