I used to conduct quite a lot, and I date the invasion of the happy smiling Prozac people to around 1995. This kind of franchising makes McDonalds look like a breed farm for anarcho-individualism. Or maybe 1995 was just when I became a sad facking sociopath. (Via another Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Society.)
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Here. I’d been vaguely considering, because flying like a bird is not yet an option, and because trains booked less than
http://www.wfmu.org/flashplayer.php?version=2&show=54031&archive=93737&starttime=0:36:25
I know a couple of people who were in TV3’s recent ‘choir’ show. Not my kind of thing.
What about a choir to sing filthy pirate songs?
Oh that’d be fine. I was a chorister years back but we sang more Rutter than shanty. I was referring to the happy clappy Oh Happy Day, in which I encouraged my acquaintances without ever really liking the show. They came 2nd in the end, I think. A retrograde show, that.
I think that the singing of that dreadful song is sign of a hidden, deeper malaise, but they’d probably say the same of my fondness for cats.