How in the hell is a man supposed to obtain a
Lionel Richie CD in this day and age? One cannot just walk into
Sam Goodie, pluck
Dancing On The Ceiling off the shelf and simply march up to the counter and pay for it. There is an
American tradition of unspoken rules which must not be broken and that, like the one about
men buying tampons, is one of them.
Back in '86 Lionel was music to get down with the ladies to; it was background music for
unadulterated sexual licentiousness. You left the cassette paused right before
Say you, say me back at the pad and then went out to find yourself a likely candidate for some seriously smooth 80's R&B style panty melting. It was not only "Ok" to own
Lionel, it was an essential component in the arsenal of
the modern minded single male of the 80's; it was a universally accepted
minimum.
In the new millenium (which I shall henceforth refer to as, "
the aughties"), dusting off the cassette player and sliding in some Lionel while attempting to lure a woman out of her clothing is the modern dating equivalent of committing
sepuku.
There is no excuse to buy, borrow, listen to, possess, own or even desire any compilation of Lionel Richie music on any medium at any time, ever. period. This is exactly why, despite the intrinsic dishonesty of it,
Napster must be forgiven its faults. It offers a forum for closet
Winger fans and
needy Barry Manilow lovers to obtain their darkest desire; to feed
the hideous six headed beast of tacky musical tastes.
If you are caught, I do not know you; neither do your friends. If they were truly good friends they will wait until you are out of earshot before breaking out into
hysterical laughter at your expense (I will, in all likelihood, not).
And this is just an example. Not only is there an
supposititious cornucopia of
fad bands,
hair rockers and
disco legends that have been mortared away behind the brick wall of
forced social amnesia but things as well. I still laugh my ass off every time I see a girl in
bell bottoms or
knickers -- err,
Capri pants.
I suppose
[s]he who controls the fashion industry controls the "fashionable". An army of airheads; a frightening thought.
The End
(To answer your question; no, there was absolutely no point to this node at all.)