Friends, Escapees, Countrymen. Lend me your ears. In precisely one week the UK Christmas Number 1 single for 2010 will be revealed. As a resident of the United Kingdom I feel it necessary to broadcast the following message.
Good evening, The Internet. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as anyone. But in the spirit of Christmas, that important annual commemoration of the past, usually associated with the birth of a purportedly magic zombie Jew and the celebration of a nice holiday. I thought we could mark this December the 12th, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat.
There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now orders are being shouted into telephones, and a hastily constructed marketing campaign akin to inane, vacuous devil-spawn will soon be on its way. Why? Because while shiny, bedazzling TV talent contests may be used in lieu of conversation, the Word of the Bird will always retain it's power. The Word offers the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Mundanity and injustice, insipidness and repetition. And where once you had the freedom to object, to listen and choose as you saw fit, you now have advertising and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your telephone vote. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable. But again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.
I know why you did it. I know you were bored. Who wouldn't be? There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high musical over-lord, Simon Cowell. He promised you entertainment, he promised you a cheap laugh, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of ITV remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the 12th of December to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me, one week from tonight, listening to BBC Radio 1 (after purchasing 'The Surfin' Bird' from a retailer recognized by the chart) and together we shall give them a Christmas Number 1 that shall never, ever be forgot!
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Good evening, The Internet. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as anyone. But in the spirit of Christmas, that important annual commemoration of the past, usually associated with the birth of a purportedly magic zombie Jew and the celebration of a nice holiday. I thought we could mark this December the 12th, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat.
There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now orders are being shouted into telephones, and a hastily constructed marketing campaign akin to inane, vacuous devil-spawn will soon be on its way. Why? Because while shiny, bedazzling TV talent contests may be used in lieu of conversation, the Word of the Bird will always retain it's power. The Word offers the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Mundanity and injustice, insipidness and repetition. And where once you had the freedom to object, to listen and choose as you saw fit, you now have advertising and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your telephone vote. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable. But again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.
I know why you did it. I know you were bored. Who wouldn't be? There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high musical over-lord, Simon Cowell. He promised you entertainment, he promised you a cheap laugh, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of ITV remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the 12th of December to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me, one week from tonight, listening to BBC Radio 1 (after purchasing 'The Surfin' Bird' from a retailer recognized by the chart) and together we shall give them a Christmas Number 1 that shall never, ever be forgot!
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