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snowflake: hey, the camaraderie and goofy are why you hang out here, right?
j: yeah that would seem kinda counterproductive...
ed
What better way to cheer oneself up than listening to Damien Rice. Someone hide all the sharp objects, quick.
Oh my--yes, not the happiest music in the world. I used to feel the same way about Morrissey (I really think he just needed a cheeseburger and laid), and Tracey Chapman, (I used to pretend to hang myself whenever "Fast Cars" was playing. )
When I was morose last, and had the song "Say Something" by A Great Big World stuck in my head, every time I would start humming it (and bawling) I would make myself sing "I'm Walking on Sunshine" which I absolutely hate, but cracks me up every time.
But Ed, my dear, part of his schtick was that he was celibate and a vegetarian--hence the laid and cheeseburger. I thought he would have been much cheerier.pfft, morrissey likely never needed help getting laid. c'mon, those looks & the perpetual brooding?
ed
Say Something is class. Oh man that song is haunting.
Fast Car is horrifying and beautiful all at once.
But Damien Rice is the king of misery. And I love him for it.
Put down that there rope missy.I've never heard Say Something before, but now that I have I'm going to find the nearest sturdy beam from which to hang my rope. Fuck.
Ah yes. The Golden Age of Lit.

I am proud of us for showing some restraint. I mean, when that thread pops up I can't help but click; it's a freak show. But so far, no bites. Go us! (Nipple Muncher, Emerson, this is primarily directed to you.)![]()
People were waxing poetic about the golden age of HT when you and I were n00bs, too.you know...as someone who's part of the old guard, i don't think it's fair to characterize those days as a "golden age" because it does a disservice to newer members of this community.