Evict Jim Morrison?

[dr_mabeuse]

Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix died the year before Morrison.

I'll tell you, I think he was a great performer and vocalist, but I always thought his lyrics and poetry were terribly weak. I mean,

Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name?
Hello, I love you, can I jump in your game?

is pretty damned feeble, especially for a guy who considered poetry his first calling.

---dr.M.

 

[lewdandlicentious]

Good grief, I'm agreeing with you too often lately, L.

P.

I know, shocking isn't it!

 

[shereads]

Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix died the year before Morrison.

I'll tell you, I think he was a great performer and vocalist, but I always thought his lyrics and poetry were terribly weak. I mean,

Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name?
Hello, I love you, can I jump in your game?

is pretty damned feeble, especially for a guy who considered poetry his first calling.

---dr.M.

You're looking at this out of context. Bobby Goldsboro was famous then, too, okay?

"See the tree how big it's grown
You know it hasn't been too long
It wasn't big
I laughed at her and she got mad
The first day that she planted it <----- Note the conjoined "it"s
It was just a twig"

By comparison, Morrison's lyrics were just fine...Anyway, we did't care about the lyrics. He was a bad boy, and our moms didn't like that album cover where he wasn't wearing his shirt, and he wasn't Bobby Goldsboro, and life was good.

 

[Rumple Foreskin]

I hope he gets evicted. He should not rest in the same grounds as Oscar Wilde.

Perdita

Perdita,

If there's any sort of life after death that even approaches life before death, something tells me Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison are not resting.

Rumple Foreskin

 

[Guest]

C'mon, Sher. JM was just another middleclass, white-boy, university dropout who knew just enough Huxley to name the band and a smattering of Nietschze, Rimbaud and Freud to pen quasi-poetic lyrics to fit his aimless life.

He posed for Vogue forgawdssake.

Perdita

 

[Guest]

Rumps, you made me grin. If Morrison had died in his so-called cups (vs. flabby assed), Wilde might have hit on him in the after-life, but I can't imagine any company being kept wherever they are now. P.

 

[shereads]

C'mon, Sher. JM was just another middleclass, white-boy, university dropout who knew just enough Huxley to name the band and a smattering of Nietschze, Rimbaud and Freud to pen quasi-poetic lyrics to fit his aimless life.

He posed for Vogue forgawdssake.

Perdita

Exactly! See?

 

[Guest]

Exactly! See?

Gawd, I don't even know why I found that funny. I like that. P.