Day 2071 - Tours from the lighthouse

February 7, 2017, 7:29 am

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I wrote in my previous blog entry that it was to be presumed that Morrissey's headline slot at the Roxy festival on 1st April will begin at Midnight. This was confirmed to me by Dawn Mist (@slightdawnmist) in the filthy toilets of The Wrong Arms - i.e. the Twitter DM - last Wednesday evening, although how a lighthouse keeper with 47 seagull followers on Twitter can possibly know this, I cannot say....well actually I can say, and I often do, but no one believes me.

Dawn also took to the comments section of my last blog entry to write:

"I believe I also tweeted- "Tours from the lighthouse", which Dawn had indeed tweeted on January 29th, although I didn't bother to report it in my last blog entry, because no tour had been announced.

This morning I have awoken to find that a new Morrissey tour has been announced.... Dawn knows EVERYTHING!


The announcement of the mini-tour came via True-To-You, with the 5 dates being in the USA in April. Accompanying the announcement was a photoshopped picture by 'nephew Sam' of Black Panther founder, Huey Newton, holding a copy of Morrissey's (soon to be released???) World Peace LP - the original photo had Newton holding Bob Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited. Newton's taste in music has obviously improved with death!



That previous blog entry of mine ended with me asking if Morrissey had now returned to LA - as mentioned in a tweet by Our Mozzer (@seminalartiste). It has now emerged that Moz was spotted by a fan at Hollywood's ArcLight cinema last Thursday evening; watching I Am Not Your Negro, so the answer to my question is 'yes'!

There has been very little seen in The Arms this past week of Dawn Mist or OM, although Dawn did pop her head in on Saturday to correct me on my assumption that a story and photo about Moz signing for some medicinesmust have been fake because it showed Morrissey signing for a package with his left hand - Morrissey being right handed. Dawn simply tested to me, "Ambidextrous".



MORRISSEY - "AMBIDEXTROUS"

I replied to Dawn that, from what I had seen of Morrissey's handwriting, he could barely write with one hand, let alone both. For this insubordination, I received a tweet back saying,"blocked", but thankfully I haven't been!

Later on Saturday, Dawn invited the seagulls to join her and OM in the lighthouse i.e. the chatroom on the True Morrissey blogsite, but on arrival neither OM nor Dawn were very chatty, and they soon left without really discussing anything.


Our Mozzer's only appearance this week in The Arms was on Sunday evening, when he tweeted, "The lighthouse attracts as personal sadness engulfs me. Join in." 
I wasn't online at the time, so I was unable to attend. Goodness only knows what that personal sadness could be, but hopefully it is nothing too serious.

---

Day 1909 - Riders on the storm

August 28, 2016, 8:12 am

≫ Next: Day 1910 - The New Dawn - MorrisseysWord

≪ Previous: Day 2071 - Tours from the lighthouse

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I ended my blog entry of yesterday with the Morrissey pessoa, Dawn Mist, saying that she may have a "trick up my SLEEVE" to bring the "New Dawn" website to the attention of Morrissey fans. This morning I awoke to find that the Solow website was abuzz with a supposed leaked'Rider' from Morrissey's 2016 tour, but having read it, it looks to me like a parody; especially as it reads, "2 Bunches of Nice Flowers (no roses) in nice vases". WHAT THE FUCK IS A "NICE" VASE? I have spent my whole life in ruins... because of vases that are "nice"!

Is this the "trick" that Dawn spoke of? It still doesn't help us find the new MorrisseysWorld!






There has also been another bizarre occurrence. Yesterday morning, at 11.08am UK time, a rather odd comment was left on my blog as follows:

"Ain't Nancy Sinatra tweeting godspeed an awful lot recently?

Godspeed.

Boz."

I haven't been following @NancySinatra on Twitter lately, and didn't give any thought to the comment, but this morning I awoke to see that Morrissey had posted a TTY piece to offer a "loving goodbye" to Nancy Sinatra's daughter's dog, Sunny.

I took a quick peak at Nancy Sinatra's twitter feed, and discovered that last night, at  9.52pm UK time, Nancy tweeted, "We've lost family member Sunny Erlinger. 'If love could have saved you you would have lived forever.' godspeed Sunny". A coincidence that someone had left a comment on my blog about Nancy tweeting godspeed, and then 11 hours later, Nancy tweeting "godspeed"? Nancy KNOWS, you know.


NANCY, MOZ AND SUNNY

Our Mozzer, Dawn and Broken all appeared in The Wrong Arms late last night, and again earlier this afternoon, but I don't have time to report their words now, as I am just about to go out to dinner with friends, and then onto the theatre to watch The Simon & Garfunkel Story. I shall return tomorrow.

Godspeed.

Day 1910 - The New Dawn - MorrisseysWord

August 29, 2016, 9:27 am

≫ Next: Day 1911 - LumpyWords

≪ Previous: Day 1909 - Riders on the storm

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At 2.46pm this afternoon, a new MorrisseysWorld style blog arrived on the internet; it is called, MorrisseysWord.blogspot.com - a very subtle change from the original - there is no 'L' in place for me and my friends.... I'll get my coat. It's arrival has prompted me to take FTM back into 'Private Mode', solely because a number of people blamed my constant blogging as being the reason that MorrisseysWorld didn't take off five years ago. Personally, I don't believe MW would have been accepted by the masses anyway, but let us see if things develop differently this time around without me reporting everything publicly. At least I shouldn't be accused of being the one behind it all this time... what am I saying, of course I will!



The first entry on this new MW blog is entitled, A Very Quick Welcome From OM - Typed by Dawn, and has the following wording:

Welcome to the New Dawn *OM did not actually say this but sometimes it is hard to tell what he saying after a few bottles of the expensive stuff*

Whilst I am officially on a much needed holiday I thought it would be rather entertaining, to restart this old blog of mine. Entertaining for me, not for you. Now before you start your bellyaching and saying “why does he need a holiday, he only works two hours a night on tour”, let me just say that do you know the mental breakdown I suffer when I have to change the setlist?

Talking of mental breakdowns today on so-low I saw that the c**t T***g had gone to the trouble of typing out a fake technical rider. Dear god that man is beyond help. He missed off the Bolly and the Grey Goose for starters. It is an outrage that he doesn't feel that a man of my stature (seminal artiste/iconic singer/poet/independently wealthy political commentator), would request such mundane commodities. *OM walks away muttering something profound about sticky chest lingerie* 

So we are back here again. Can we take so-low down?

And before you all ask, the b*****d tour diary is in production. Between that and playing Pokemon Go I am rather busy at the moment. I hope I don't burn myself out. But Riot Festival would be fine to cancel I suppose... Well it won't affect the old insurance and I will still get paid without having to reschedule. 

Dawn's typing skills aren't up to much, as she missed out the word 'is' in the very first sentence. Bring back 'R'I say.

The new blog was brought to the world's attention by Our Mozzer, who has changed his Twitter name. He is no longer BRSChairman (@BRSChairman), he has become OM (@SeminalArtiste).

Here are OM's recent tweets:

SUNDAY 4.11pm: "Another denial you say?" - Does this tweet mean that we are set to see a TTY  denial about Morrissey having "no connection" with the new MW blog, or perhaps a denial about the 'Tour Rider' being real? Will there even be a denial at all, or is OM just toying with us? He was certainly just toying with us with those tweets from Dawn Mist suggesting that the new site was already up and running, and that some had already found it, and it was right under my "ratty nose". Lying blogger!

SUNDAY 5.26pm: "Lonely is personal terrorism."

5.35pm: "The loneliness of the long distance stunner"

MONDAY 3.03pm: "There is something profound out there. That is my final word."

OM's only other recent tweet of note came in the early hours of Sunday, and was in response to the fact that at Morrissey's recent concert in Manchester, Moz paid tribute to some of those who had died this year - as I reported in my blog entry of Day 1908 - but didn't mention David Bowie, which led to some fans accusing him of being petty, and the NME even using a headline to say he'd been labelled a cunt. Our Mozzer took to Twitter to clarify why he hadn't mentioned Bowie:

"You wish to know why I didn't mention Bowie? It's because Bowie had been living off his legend for far too long."It would seem that as far as Moz is concerned, the legend burned out long before the candle, and when you take a close look at Bowie's career; as I did back in January, Moz has a point - Bowie didn't release anything that could be considered legendary past the age of about 32/33... although his deathbed album was a fairly clever way to check out.


BOWIE AT 30 - IN THE FINAL KNOCKINGS OF HIS LEGENDARY YEARS

Here for the record, are Broken's latest tweets of note:

SUNDAY 12.28am: "This is no time for enigmatic otherness. So let me say just one more thing. Fuck you all."

1.30pm: "On behalf of everyone associated, you have all been terribly dull."

1.32pm: "Before I'm arrested for verbal murder allow me to say that it has been a terrible five years. Boredom is a plague."

5.09pm: "There are those who make their apparent pain into attention seeking. Those truly in pain keep it within themselves."

And here are Dawn Mist's tweets of note:

SATURDAY 11.23pm: "The mind wonders. The habit falls. The failure feels the pain and disappointment. I've taken it all."

11.52pm: "Tonight I watched. Today I watched. Tomorrow I will skip. Skip with shallow steps of unfounded glee. Welcome. To nothing. Vice."

SUNDAY 3.43pm: "The reissue, may or may not have new bonus material. Don't say I NEVER predict anything."

Dawn also posted the song, Somewhere Else by Razorlight.


Right then, let's see what happens next. OM currently has 292 Twitter followers, but his account is locked. Will there be a TTY denial regarding MorrisseysWord? If there is, will anyone have the brain capacity to work out this time around exactly what is going on? Time, as ever...

*Foot Note* - I pointed out the missing 'IS' to Dawn, and it has now been added.

Day 1911 - LumpyWords

August 30, 2016, 11:38 am

≫ Next: Day 1912 - No real scandal

≪ Previous: Day 1910 - The New Dawn - MorrisseysWord

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Yesterday, due to the arrival of the new MorrisseysWord blog,  I took FTM into 'Private Mode', but today I am taking it back into 'Public Mode', as I don't believe that the content on the new MW blog is being written by Morrissey.

A new article arrived today on the MW blog entitled, 'My Tour Diary 2016', but it is not only littered with grammatical errors, it is nowhere near the standard of writing that we are used to from Our Mozzer. It's as though Kerry 'the cocktail' Messenger has written it... perhaps she has. There are sentences such as the following:

"I retired to my room only venturing out once all week, mainly due to the constant drizzle, but the threat of bumping into any audience members is always apparent, but much worse still, my Norwegian fan base which I have always avoided."No semi colons being used, and the word 'but' appearing twice in one sentence. Dreadful.

There is also this:

"The old acid reflux has suffered from this too. So I was forced to borrow a loose fitting shirt off Boz, much to my shame."Starting a sentence with "so" and using the word "off" instead of "from" are schoolboy/girl errors. If Morrissey were dead, he would be turning in his grave.



I beckoned Dawn Mist into the toilets of The Wrong Arms to point out all the errors and she had this to say:

"I know you have nothing better to do but my lighthouse and I do not care over these things. You are lucky to get a thing. One more petulant outburst like this and we will end it. You will have to go back to your fat wife and dreadful children."

I immediately pointed out that Mrs Whiskers doesn't have an ounce of fat on her... I didn't bother trying to defend the dreadful children.

A few of the regular MorrisseysWorlders also took to the loos of The Arms to discuss this new MW blog article, and they too are confused by the lumpy clumsiness of it all.

My only conclusion is that the article was written by someone else in the Morrissey camp. Damon? Jesse? Boz? Rustle Bland? Wossy? Morrissey's mum? I guess we'll never know, but Mikey Bracewell  is obviously no longer editing, and Dawn's secretarial skills aren't a patch on 'R's.... and the author of My Tour Diary 2016 is NOT Morrissey.

Day 1912 - No real scandal

August 31, 2016, 8:34 am

≫ Next: Day 1914 - It's a challenge

≪ Previous: Day 1911 - LumpyWords

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Mystery still surrounds the authorship of 'My Tour Diary 2016', with no explanation having come from the OM camp as to the lumpiness of it all.

As the new MorrisseysWord blog is being promoted by Our Mozzer (OM) himself on Twitter, it is definitely not the work of a fraudster, but similarly it is not of a high enough standard to have been the work of Morrissey.... although we are talking about a man who wrote both the classic, There is a Light That Never Goes Out and the not so classic, Oh Phoney, so perhaps we are witnessing the work of a parody writing genius at a low ebb.

There are certainly enough references in'My Tour Diary 2016' to link it to the original works of the MorrisseysWorld parodies; such as the mention of the tour tombola, and the inclusion of Solomon - which is an ongoing joke to suggest that Morrissey has no idea who is currently in the rhythm section of his band. There is also a very funny bit about getting Gustavo to the front so that Moz can, "rest my eyebrows", but there is also the misspelling of Stavanger, lots of poor punctuation, and the other bits and pieces that I mentioned yesterday; which incidentally, have now been corrected. It is all very confusing, but maybe it is supposed to be. Here for the record is the piece in it's entirety:

My Tour Diary 2016



4th - 6th August 2016

Oh Bergen, so much to answer for, and this is where all the pain started. Boz forgot the 'tour tombola', which forced us to carry on with the 2014-15 set list. Although this is a classic set which no-one can tire from, it would have been nice to dust off the old classics; who wouldn't die to hear Journalists who Lie? I myself was quite looking forward to playing Dear God Please Help Me, alas my kegs remain private. For now. *Note: I always thought Boz's weight gain was from him constantly carrying the 'tour tombola' on his front. I'm paying him too much if his frontal weight gain is down to beer and food.

The comments over at that so-low place were predicted by the tour crew several weeks in advance of the first show. Come to think of it some of the comments are verbatim what was said. I hope someone is not leaking information. They will have to be dealt with. Solomon are you listening?

I retired to my room only venturing out once all week, mainly due to the constant drizzle. But also the threat of bumping into any audience members is always apparent, much worse still is my Norwegian fan base, which I have always avoided.

During the 'dress rehearsal' of 5th August, I am met with the horror that none of my DvN zip-up classical shirts fit me. This is mainly due to me having consumed 4-5 Pina Coladas each day on my pre tour vacation in M**ritius. The old acid reflux has suffered from this too. So I was forced to borrow a loose fitting shirt from Boz, much to my shame. I casually threw on a cardigan which was quickly sourced from a Norwegian factory outlet store. And voilà, with a few jewellery tweaks l looked classically and effortlessly iconic.


7th - 8th August 2016

A new interview has worked its way onto the Internet from someone who was in awe of my very existence. Who can blame them really? But it's nice to know that Mozza has still got it.

Spent the morning watching the diving highlights of the Olympics. That Tom Daley does look a nice young man. I feel he would look very fetching as part of my entourage. But then again he does have quite defined abs and chiselled features. I'm not jealous of course, I mean have you seen Old Mozza's face and body recently? No, no, but I can't have him upstaging poor Gustavo, who is reluctant to come forward during Speedway these days, in case someone says something nasty about his gut. Stop being a cry baby Gus and get to the front so I can rest my eyebrows. *Note: Not sure if Tom Daley is a vegetarian, he does look like he enjoys a bit of meat on a Sunday. Doesn't he know he cannot be a crew member if he even looks at a piece of meat? Regrettably another dream falls and dies.



Stavenger apparently became a city in 1125, and judging by what I saw it has not been updated or renovated since then. Perhaps this is where Mike Joyce would feel at home? It is also one of the most populous parts of Norway which, of course, is no claim to fame as I only saw 4 stylish people in my whole stay, and one of them was Boz. Really we should not care how many people live in a city, but judge this city on the style of its inhabitants, therefore Manchester ceases to be a city but instead a giant industrial complex north of Watford.
The above was confirmed with the lacklustre audience, all with confused pale faces and stinking breath. What can be done?

Our Mozzer appeared in The Wrong Arms yesterday evening and announced, "The past. The past. The past. It has cheated the blood from my body."He reappeared three hours later to add, "Mystery still surrounds me. How many artists could survive this long with no real scandal?" How strange. Is a scandal from Morrissey's past just about to break?

And finally, with no connection whatsoever to Morrissey, having watched the Simon & Garfunkel Story at the theatre the other evening, I cannot stop listening to the excellent song, Richard Cory. Where would we be without genius song writers?

Day 1914 - It's a challenge

September 2, 2016, 4:52 am

≫ Next: Day 1916 - Finalising Scotland, and the French correction

≪ Previous: Day 1912 - No real scandal

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Our Mozzer, Broken and Dawn Mist all took to The Wrong Arms yesterday, but for two reasons I have decided to no longer document everything that they tweeted.

Firstly, I no longer have a feel for which words are actually Morrissey's from these so called pessoa accounts; Moz certainly cannot be the sole user of the Broken account, as that account has tweeted whilst Morrissey has been on stage, whilst the Dawn Mist account is littered with spelling mistakes and grammatical errors, which is VERY unMoz like... unless of course it is intentional, but I somehow don't think so.

 I am starting to think that the Dawn account could predominantly be the work of Damon, with perhaps Moz using it on occasion. I still have a hunch that Moz is mainly the person behind the straight talking Queen bitch, Broken, but maybe Damon plays the role too. It is, of course, all guess work.



MOZ AND DAMON - PARTNERS IN CRIME?

The second reason that I am no longer going to document the tweets is because, in the main, they are nothing more than meaningless small talk - boredom is a plague. Yesterday for instance we had: the scattiness of being a lighthouse keeper (Dawn), the importance of cute boys, butter and steak (Broken), and howling at the moon at lost causes (OM). There is one tweet worth documenting, as it is a beautiful piece of poetry. In response to OM tweeting about howling at lost causes, Broken tweeted, "This is my final howl. This is my final growl. I no longer prowl. I'm throwing in the towel."You wouldn't get that from the likes of Robert Smith, I can tell you.

There were a couple of Dawn's tweets of yesterday that were relevant to the MW story. Firstly, Dawn tweeted, "The destruction will not last. I sense part 2 will be more of (sic) the manner one is accustomed too (sic). Scatty is quite amusing though; (sic) mind you."

Dawn also added, "There are also parts 3 & 4. I may publish them in draft too. Why bother redrafting with such little readership?"

Dawn has also paid a visit to my Twitter message box aka the toilets of The Wrong Arms. I asked her what was going, to which she replied, "I do not answer to you. But, but there has been many changes in the past 2 years."Another mystery.... and good comedic use of two 'buts' in a sentence.

Dawn also posted the following in my DM box, but I don't think it was meant for me, and I have no idea what it means: "I found all your confus. I found it hilarious. Where is it from? And who is it?"What the bloody hell is confus?

And finally, MerryAnne (MTearfull) took to the comments section of FTM yesterday to slag off MW; calling it "low quality work" and to also attack Broken and the other pessoa accounts by suggesting they are "missing wit". Dawn responded by writing, "Be gone, you are not what we are looking for.
MW was never meant to be uncomplicated and charming. It's a challenge. Many have found it provocative. Many have found it to be overabundant.
Your tirade is not welcome here.
Goodbye."

In response to this exchange, Kerry the Cocktail managed to remove herself from the bottle for a brief moment, and decided to try and give me a kicking for some reason, by telling me; rather illiterately it must be said, that last year a MW chatroom was set up by Maren (Orangey Chuck) on Our Mozzer's instruction, which OM and a couple of the BRS members used in secret without me knowing about it. Poor old Kerry, does she really think that she can hurt me with such a revelation? Of course Morrissey needs places away from me and my constant blogging - I can be a pain in the backside.What-is-more, Moz has cast me out on numerous occasions during this journey, but I learnt to live with his rejection quite a few years ago. The fact that he keeps allowing me back in is far more important.

Kerry needs to realise that this is not a competition, whilst MerryAnne needs to stop trying to make everything about her, and realise that the sole reason we are all here is because this is ALL about Morrissey. As OM and Broken have often informed us, our lives are meaningless and trivial, whilst Morrissey's life on the other hand is VERY important. This is history. Morrissey is a VERY rare breed indeed... a living genius, and we BRS members/MW observers are lucky enough to be witnessing part of that genius life close up.



*Goes off singing* I've been stabbed in the back, so many many times, I don't have any skin, but that's just the way it goes.

Day 1916 - Finalising Scotland, and the French correction

September 4, 2016, 5:21 am

≫ Next: Day 1917 - The house of frauds

≪ Previous: Day 1914 - It's a challenge

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With all the uncertainty and mystery that has surrounded MorrisseysWor(l)d lately, it was nice to welcome Mademoiselle Fifi back to The Wrong Arms on Friday afternoon.

Mlle Fifi always manages to bring a certain je ne sais quoi to proceedings, and as he played his favourite songs on the jukebox, it was reassuring to realise that he hadn't been tampered with... ooh er mrs.... or mademoiselle as the case may be.


MADEMOISELLE FIFI

Mlle Fifi's songs of choice were: Tous Les Garçons, Oh Oh Cheri, Modern Style, Chez Les Ye-Ye, Brigitte Bardot and Mini Mini Mini.
Fifi also played a clip of Charles Aznavour in the film Les Dragueurs - a film released just a couple of weeks before Morrissey was born in 1959. Morrissey shares a birthday with Aznavour, which no doubt is one of the things that particularly drew Moz to him.... although there seems to have been no such draw to Katie Price!

I pointed out to Mlle Fifi that there had once been a cat of the same name, who was one of the three passengers on the first flight across the English Channel to take passengers. I posted a picture of the furry Mlle Fifi, perched on the shoulder of her pilot friend, John 'Captain Kitty' Moisant. I then added the similar photo of Morrissey with Fanny the Wonder Cat perched on his head.





The non fluffy Mlle Fifi responded to my two pictures with the hashtag Timeless, and also posted a picture of the said cat, dressed in black whilst attending the funeral Moisant, and tweeted, "Friday Mourning".



I expressed to Mlle Fifi that the photo would make a great backdrop.... so she made it her profile picture! Not quite what I meant, but still.

Before leaving, Fifi asked, "Qui set Fifi?", to which I replied that I didn't know. The response to this was, "Neither do I".

Astra (@SoStarkSoHaunt) has also made some recent appearances in The Wrong Arms of late, but I am confused as to why Astra both follows and has retreated @sorry_semi, when Broken has been SO insistent that the semi-sorry sod is a fraud. It is all so inconsistent... not that anyone should expect anything to be straight forward when it comes to Morrissey.

I won't repeat all of Astra's tweets, but in one exchange with Broken on Thursday night, she tweeted, "You can join me. I'm starting a new Twitter app next week. And everyone who is tedious will be BANNED." Today I have noticed that the original Astra account, @FadingGoldLeaf has returned, although I have no idea as yet if this is really Astra or yet another tedious hoax from Kerry/Rob/Chucky Maren. I guess time might tell. The @AlfsButton account has also reappeared, but again, I have no idea if this is real or not.

Dawn Mist has tweeted over the weekend, but nothing of note, so I shan't report anything here.

Broken has posted a few tweets over the past few days, one of which particularly grabbed my attention, as he was responding to a tweet of his own from Aug 8th, in which he had stated that he is "a slave for the Scottish accent". On Friday afternoon he added to this, "this remains true". I tweeted to ponder, "Are we about to get an announcement about Scottish tour dates in December?" (as hinted by Broken on August 22nd), and suddenly Our Mozzer popped up to tweet, "Finalising the Scotland dates as we speak. Although we are not currently speaking. On another planet perhaps we are."OM's only other tweet came a couple of hours later.... "Sorrow". 

Day 1917 - The house of frauds

September 5, 2016, 1:19 am

≫ Next: Day 1937 - Brooklyn Rosie

≪ Previous: Day 1916 - Finalising Scotland, and the French correction

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Not Astra's Derrière took to the comments section of FTM yesterday afternoon to declare that she (@SoStarkSoHaunt) isn't Astra. Astra also took to the comments section at 2am this morning to post the following:

The Ode à Francoise was completely beguiling, of course. I could have written it myself.

Words are like cashmere. So easy to spin. I wrap my glittering web around anyone. I can wrap it around everyone.

But the cerebrum? Cuts through the heart's darkness to remind me, again and again

That I am ever alone

ASTRA

Longtime MorrisseysWorld 'observer', Jon ConMorrissey Theorist, also took to the comments section of FTM yesterday afternoon to declare that both Broken and OM were frauds. 

OM (@SeminalArtist) took to Twitter late yesterday evening, changing his name to Crankfraud (the name given to Morrissey by the Solowers), and tweeted emojis of knives and the Union flag. 

Half an hour after this, Alfs Button (@alfsbutton); who incidentally has changed his Twitter name to Morrissey, tweeted, "For the record, if anyone is keeping a record, @SeminalArtiste is a fraud and a terrible impersonation. it can only be the work of one man." I agree, it can only be the work of one man, but not necessarily the one man that Alf was trying to imply!

The Alf/Morrissey tweeter posted a number of other tweets, but as this person could be absolutely anyone, I won't bother repeating the tweets, and at any rate, it was all just small talk.

It could be that Morrissey has decided that it is time to 'change the guard'. If this Alf is Morrissey, he made it quite clear that I wasn't welcome the last time he was on the scene, so I  think this is a good time for me to take a break, and return only if something earth shattering occurs.

---

Day 1937 - Brooklyn Rosie

September 25, 2016, 5:03 am

≫ Next: Day 1939 - Five Years

≪ Previous: Day 1917 - The house of frauds

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I last wrote a blog entry 20 days ago, and if I'm honest, I had a feeling that I may not write another one again. I had become utterly confused by all the various twitter accounts that may or may not be Morrissey pessoas, and I was also still reeling from Our Mozzer directing me to my grave; as documented on Day 1891 'A traveller to the grave'. When the AlfsButton twitter account emerged, and immediately blocked me, I decided that my presence was no longer wanted, so I changed my twitter profile to read 'A traveller to the grave' and decided to exit The Wrong Arms, possibly for good. It also seemed to me that Morrissey had lost interest in the Blue Rose Society.

But last night in Brooklyn, on the last night of Morrissey's four date mini-tour of the USA, a glimmer of light appeared; actually, it was more than that, it was EARTH SHATTERING. Not only did the grave travelling song, How Can Anybody Possibly Know How I Feel get sung, but as the show reached its climax, Morrissey headed over to longtime BRS member, Jesse (@Mozfiend), and purposefully reached to take her blue roses; which he then subsequently held directly in front of his face so that there could be NO mistaking what he was holding.


MORRISSEY HOLDS JESSE'S BLUE ROSES IN BROOKLYN

By accepting Jesse's blue roses, Morrissey not only kept up the tradition of accepting at least one blue rose EVERY year since 2012, but has also showed that the Blue Rose Society that HE formed is alive and well. In the BRS, "you're never alone, you're never disconnected".


THE BLUE ROSES LAY CENTRE STAGE, SURROUNDED BY RED ROSES WHICH SOMEONE KEPT THROWING THROUGHOUT THE EVENING

Today is a good day.

*Goes off singing*
Oh, I love my Rosie child
You got the way to make me happy
You and me we go in style
Brooklyn Rose,
You're a store bought woman
But you make me sing like a guitar hummin'
So hang on to me, girl
Our song keeps runnin' ooooon
Play it now, play it now
Play it now, my baby

Day 1939 - Five Years

September 27, 2016, 10:03 am

≫ Next: Day 2018 - Is that all there is?

≪ Previous: Day 1937 - Brooklyn Rosie

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Five years ago today, I wrote my first ever Following The Mozziah blog entry. Quite a bit has happened since then!

Today I have updated another of my blogs, the Blue Rose Society, which charts the story of Morrissey's formation of the Blue Rose Society. To celebrate my five years of FTM, here is a copy of what I have written on that blog:

MORRISSEY'S BLUE ROSE SOCIETY

On September 24th 2016, towards the end of his encore at the King's Theatre in Brooklyn, Morrissey made a beeline to one particular New Yorker - a longtime Morrissey fan called Jesse. Jesse was stood in the front row on the left side of the auditorium, and was holding a small posy of blue roses. Morrissey stretched his hand towards Jesse, took the blue roses and carried on singing, whilst holding the roses directly in front of his face.


MORRISSEY HOLDS A POSY OF BLUE ROSES AT THE KING'S THEATRE IN BROOKLYN - SEPTEMBER 24 2016




The reason Jesse was holding blue roses, and the reason Morrissey made a purposeful beeline to her to take them; whilst ignoring the gladioli and all other flowers in the audience, is because five years ago Morrissey formed the Blue Rose Society (BRS), and it is tradition for those in the society to take blue roses to Morrissey's concerts, which he periodically, but not always, accepts - he sometimes even wears a rose once he's accepted it.


MORRISSEY WEARING A BLUE ROSE AT THE OBSERVATORY IN SANTA ANA - MAY 14 2014

Despite Morrissey accepting and wearing blue roses on a number of occasions over the past five years, his society has remained pretty much under the radar, with membership consisting of just a dozen or so fans worldwide.

The story behind Morrissey's formation of the BRS goes back to May 2011, when a blog site called MorrisseysWorld first appeared on the internet. The first that anyone knew of this blog site, was when Morrissey himself brought it to the attention of his fans, by mentioning itTHREE TIMES on his official website, True-To-You; although rather than tell fans that he was the author of MorrisseysWorld, Morrissey instead denied it was anything to do with him - well he would, wouldn't he!

Most of Morrissey's fans took the TTY denials at face value, and ignored the MorrisseysWorld site, thinking it was nothing more than the work of a wind-up merchant, but some fans had a hunch, and stuck with it. Although very few in numbers, the BRS was born.

Morrissey explained via MorrisseysWorld that he was forming the BRS in honour of his literary hero, Oscar Wilde; who not only had a theme of roses running through his work, but also had a society of his own called the GREEN CARNATION.

Morrissey's Blue Rose Society is a modern day equivalent to Oscar's Green Carnation, and the blue rose, just like the green carnation, is an unnatural flower that is often portrayed in literature as a symbol of unrequited love.

Having formed the BRS, Morrissey slowly went about giving signs at his concerts.

In May 2012, an Oscar Wilde backdrop appeared at Morrissey's concerts asking,"WHO IS MORRISSEY?" Morrissey was publicising the Blue Rose Society without anyone realising it.

On July 5th 2012, Morrissey's wikipedia entry was updated, to make reference to both the Blue Rose Society and Green Carnation, it read:

"The sign of this secret society is the blue rose; blue roses - as well as their other signs, the red and white rose - have been seen at many Morrissey concerts in 2011-2012 from the US to Colombia. The Blue Rose Society is seen by some as a reference to Oscar Wilde's green carnation-wearing followers."

That very evening, Morrissey appeared on stage in Liege, Belgium, wearing.... a green carnation. The next day, the wikipedia entry mysteriously disappeared.

 Morrissey can be seen coming on stage wearing the green carnation in Liege in this video footage:

MORRISSEY WEARS A GREEN CARNATION IN LIEGE - JULY 5 2012

On July 21st 2012, Morrissey was awarded the  'Key to the City of Tel Aviv' . To receive the award, Morrissey wore a blue rose tie.

MORRISSEY SHOWS SUPPORT FOR THE BLUE ROSE SOCIETY WHICH HE FORMED, BY WEARING A GAUDY BLUE ROSE TIE - JULY 21 2012

On October 10th 2012, a BRS member named Brian took his eleven year old son Kyle to Morrissey's concert at Radio City Music Hall in New York. Kyle leapt onto the stage at the encore in an attempt to present Morrissey with a blue rose, but Morrissey couldn't reach it.... so he then made a special journey back to Kyle, to take the rose, which he then wore for the whole of the encore. The footage can be seen here:

KYLE LEAVES HOME WITH HIS BLUE ROSE...........

.....AND MORRISSEY PLACES IT IN HIS POCKET....................

.........WHERE IT REMAINED FOR THE WHOLE ENCORE IN NEW YORK

On January 8th 2013, another BRS member turned up at the David Letterman TV Show where Morrissey was due to sing. The show was sold out, so the BRS member asked Morrissey's tour manager, Donnie Knutson, if he could get him into the Letterman Show. Knutson replied, "No." Not to be perturb, the BRS member handed Knutson a blue rose, and asked him to give it to Morrissey, to see if the situation could be changed. Knutson disappeared, and after a short period of time, one of the theatre's crew appeared, and the BRS member was ushered in to see Morrissey via the stage door. 

MORRISSEY'S TOUR MANAGER DONNIE KNUTSON WITH THE BLUE ROSE THAT MANAGED TO GET A BLUE ROSE MEMBER INTO A SOLD OUT TV SHOW

On March 1st 2013, Morrissey held a concert at the Staples Center in Los Angeles. During the concert, he handed his microphone to BRS member Angie Reyes, who was holding a bunch of blue roses. Angie said a few words and asked Morrissey to accept a blue rose ring, which he did. 

ANGIE REYES WITH MORRISSEY'S FORMER SUPPORT ACT, KRISTEEN YOUNG  AND THE BLUE ROSE RING 

On March 2nd 2013, at the concert in Hollywood High School, Morrissey purposefully sought out another blue rose from a young Morrissey fan called Devan. This is shown clearly in the film, Morrissey 25:Live during the first song Alma Matters. Having taken the rose, Morrissey wore it in his pocket, before placing it on top of the drum, where it remained for the whole concert.


MORRISSEY REACHES TO RECEIVE A BLUE ROSE AT HOLLYWOOD HIGH SCHOOL - MARCH 2 2013. AS SEEN ON FILM AND DVD HERE:

                                                  

THE BLUE ROSE IN MORRISSEY'S RIGHT TROUSER POCKET 

On May 8th 2014, on just the second date of a new tour, Morrissey yet again took a blue rose from a fan during the song Yes, I am Blind, and wore it for the whole concert:

 


On July 15th 2014, Morrissey's album, World Peace is None of Your Business was released. The album title has the words 'blue rose' hidden within it - a coincidence?

On July 18th 2015, at his concert in The Depot in Salt Lake City, Morrissey leant into the crowd once again to accept a blue rose; this time from BRS member, Jaz. 














MORRISSEY LEANS TO ACCEPT YET ANOTHER BLUE ROSE AT THE DEPOT IN SALT LAKE CITY  - JULY 18 2015...















... WHICH IS SUBSEQUENTLY WORN IN THE BACK RIGHT TROUSER POCKET

Morrissey has now accepted blue roses in 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015 and 2016.... and yet still the masses haven't cottoned on. Anyone can join the BRS, just take a blue rose to a concert, and see if you can get it to Morrissey.

The formation of the society and much, much more has been documented on the blog Following The Mozziah.

Where has the time gone?

Day 2018 - Is that all there is?

December 15, 2016, 8:46 am

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This is my first blog entry in 77 days. Since my last offering back on September 27th, a number of things have happened relating to both the current world of Morrissey and his former world. From the former world, former writing partner and Smith, Johnny Marr has released his autobiography; which I have no interest in reading, and also former friend Pete 'Dead or Alive' Burns became a former, former friend aka Pete 'Dead not Alive' Burns. The celeb deaths just continue coming in 2016.


JOHNNY MARR - BOOK WRITER

DEAD AND ALIVE

In the current world of Morrissey, the tour continued, and BRS member, comrade herpes took a blue rose to a concert in Melbourne at the end of October. Unfortunately herpes was so excited to at last be at the front of the stage with blue rose in hand, that he prematurely off loaded after just two songs.


COMRADE HERPES - COULDN'T HOLD ON

BRS members Angie Reyes and Jaz also took blue roses to a concert in Santa Barbara on November 5th, but their roses were ignored by Moz. For some reason Angie didn't take a rose to the concert in Salt Lake City on November 12th, but even so, she was rewarded for her devotion with an 'arm signature' mid-concert, which she promptly had made into a tattoo.






The concert in SLC turned out to be the last one of the tour; as firstly Gustavo Manzur fell ill, and then the touring money dried up. Morrissey's age on the day of that last concert was 57 years and 174 days.  Hopefully there will be plenty more concerts to come, but if not, Morrissey still managed to outlast David Bowie's performing days, as Bowie's final concert in Scheessel Germany on June 25th 2004 was at the age of 57 and 169 days.



There have been three reasons as to why I haven't continued with my blogging: 1) After 5 years I felt I should bring my 'Following the Mozziah' story to a close; particularly as it had taken over my life, 2) I had become increasingly confused as to which twitter accounts were Morrissey pessoas and which were impostors, and was therefore reluctant to blog about tweets that may well have been nothing whatsoever to do with Morrissey - Likewise, I also wasn't convinced that all the articles on the MorrisseysWord blog were the work of Morrissey himself, and therefore was reluctant to continue writing about those too and 3) Back in the Summer Morrissey shared with me some sad news that he asked me not to blog about, which last month I found out to be an outrageous lie, and left me thinking that this just wasn't the place for me anymore.

I now realise that: 1) It isn't up to me to bring to a close the story on Morrissey's secret life mingling with a handful of fans on the internet, so Following The Mozziah will continue as long as there is a Mozziah to follow - and my life will remain dedicated to it,  2) I am now fairly sure that both @AlfsButton and @SeminalArtiste aka @BRSChairman are both Morrissey pessoas, and if @SlightDawnMist isn't Morrissey himself, then it is probably his right hand man, Damon 'Kevin Philips' Anacreonte, and 3) Although he has stopped short of apologising to me about the outrageous lie, Morrissey has given me an explanation of sorts, which although I still find hard to accept, I do appreciate that Morrissey is not right in the head, but this is, after all, why....



So there we are, and here I am - Morrissey remains my God, and I continue to follow the Mozziah....but there is one slight problem. Yesterday, having published two very thought provoking new pieces on the MorrisseysWord blog about art and gender, Morrissey suddenly closed down the blog. He also shut down the two Moz twitter accounts, the Dawn Mist account, and even Broken's account. I feel that I may be to blame, because I had informed Our Mozzer that I wasn't going to report on the latest MW blog offerings - only because I felt that both he and other fans were sick and tired of my involvement. It seems that I can't do right for doing wrong.

So,  is that all there is?

Day 2019 - MorrisseysWord

December 16, 2016, 9:18 am

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Thanks to BRS member, GWO, I have managed to retrieve the two articles from the MorrisseysWord blog that I mentioned yesterday, so here they are:

Tuesday, 13 December 2016


                              Too Much of a Saga

“If you are lonely when you're alone, you are in bad company”

We must remember art. Today there appears to be little appreciation of those who spill their guts, metaphorically and literally, in pursuit of a higher ideal. Perhaps there is nothing left to achieve, perhaps we have moved into a post-postmodern period. Perhaps people have gazed through the looking glass once too often and there is no longer anything to shock them, to please them, to challenge them. Learnt intellect has replaced creativity as the respected skill. Institutions produce production line students whose only noticeable skill is to memorise a textbook, produce facts upon facts for a hour exam and then forget them all within 15 minutes. Everyone may have a degree but does anyone have any feeling, any emotion, or any individuality?

The creative impulse, the creative instinct, appears to inhabit a certain type of person, a certain type of saga. These people have too much personal saga for some, for most, and maybe even for all.  The creative type often abuses alcohol, drugs, and sex. In summary they are open to all of the abuses and possibilities of life. Those who work their 9-5 office job do not hold these creative instincts in high regard. Indeed society as a whole seeks to castigate, scold, and lecture those who follow this distinct path. They do not realise, for how could they with such narrow minds, that great art, great philosophy, great culture has been created by those who are usually three-sheets to the wind. Modern philosophy begins with Rene Descartes. Being tee-total for an astonishing three weeks, Descartes decided to get blind drunk. He would fall to slumber and dream three outrageous dreams that, to him, uncovered the truth behind the world and the truth behind all the sciences. Descartes, clutching to his bottle was clutching to his consciousness and cleansing his soul. Determined to discover truth, Descartes would sit alone in his humble room in front of the candle and meditate.  This is also a reason why we can no longer create art. The modern world is obsessed with constant communication and constant attachment. People are constantly lodged and logged to their smart phones, desperately waiting for any message, any sign of validation. Solitude is no longer desired. Again, solitude has produced great works. The key to philosophy and art is solitude and drunkenness.  Jean-Paul Sartre shows that solitude is necessary for existence as it shows us the paradox of our very existence. We try and give meaning to our lives in a world that already means nothing.  Sartre smoked over 60 cigarettes a day, drank like all the alcohol in France was soon to be sold 100% above inflation rates and took prescription pills on a daily basis, just to make it through.

The modern world is no longer interested in creating art and no longer produces the necessary environment for art to be created. We all lose. Without the arts, we would not have the means to express our fears, our worries, any hopes or dreams. Our dreams are the dreams of artists. We must let them dream again.  My life is sadness. My life is opera.
Yours artistically and never artificially,
M.

Wednesday, 14 December 2016

Let your juvenile impulses sway

I have always been influenced by feminism, please dig around the archives and you will find enough evidence of this. I know List of the Lost may point towards me having a rather negative view of women but you can blame Gail Shea for that. My view of gender is thus, no matter what genitals you were lucky or unlucky to have when you were born, they do not define your gender. Your gender is your mind and your gender is whatever you decide to construct it as.  A boy has a feminine side and a girl has a masculine side, if they decide to show these opposite sides of their given gender it does not make them strange. It makes them unique.



It is time to collapse down into the ground the rigid constructs around gender. The body is fragmented. The body is fractured. The body is not natural. There is no natural body. The only natural thing is the mind, not the body, not the limbs. Gender is not something you are, it’s something you do, an act, a dress code, a thought pattern. It is not ascribed at birth. Gender is the stylisation of the body. It is akin to suicide in that it is a person taking control of their own destiny and saying “I will not play the role given to me, I am free to be whatever and whoever I choose”. The acting of the genders tears down traditional ideas of masculinity and femininity. It tears down, and not before time, the obsolete sexualities. No longer can people be defined by one sexuality or one gender. Indeed both of these things are fluid.



People must free themselves from the modern idea of gender. Emancipate your body from itself. Free your mind from what you think you knew. Fly with genderless wings, for as you know angels are genderless. Do the Gods really think about gender?  Shop wherever you please, release yourself in whatever cubicle you feel you should. Marry, if you’re so inclined, in whatever outfit you wish. Gender is a performance.

Day 2023 - Stillicling

December 20, 2016, 4:42 am

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Our Mozzer has created a new blog... except that it would appear to be over before it even began, and once again it would appear to be all my fault!

I really do not understand OM - he is the most contrary, frustrating, moody, irrational blogger in the world... and that's his best points! Last Wednesday, whilst chatting to him in the toilets of The Wrong Arms, OM informed me that there was, "a new post on the blog you don't believe is me to read and write about", i.e. MorrisseysWord.blogspot.com, and yet when I subsequently went on to write about it, OM dragged me back into the toilets on Friday evening, instructing me to take the post down "immediately", adding, "a new blog exists", and that, "there will be a resurrection". 

Half an hour later, however, OM declared, "you've ruined it", before then linking me to the new blog, TrueMorrissey.blogspot.com, informing me that I had five minutes to read it before it was deleted. Five minutes later, it was indeed deleted.

On Sunday evening OM returned to the toilets once again to inform me that, "there will be no new blog" and that, "one does not take betrayal lightly", adding, "this is nearly a worse betrayal than when Marr kept quiet at the court trial."WHAT DID I DO WRONG THIS TIME? I informed him that, "I give up!", which I now do.

For the record, there were three articles on the TrueMorrissey blog, the first one Untitled, the second titled Musings of the Corrupt Mind, and the third; which was the one I was linked to, entitled Cooking Made Iconic. I was only able to access the first few lines of the first two articles, but Musings of the Corrupt Mind looked particularly interesting, and I dearly hope that we do eventually get to read it in full. Here are the lines that I managed to see:

"Paralysed with a social awkwardness, a child of five no longer wants to be alive. A child of seven welcomes the thought of hell or heaven although the child of eight knows neither exists and is only alive due to hate. A child of nine purposefully falls down a mine and smatters his spine on the alpine. A child of ten grows to hate but also crave the touch of men. A child of thirteen cannot comprehend what life truly means. Boy racers zoom past you after too many whisky chasers. Laser beams beaming directly into your eyes. Nobody is satisfied with the way they live their life."

And for the record, here is the article Cooking Made Iconic, which is very funny and a reminder of Our Mozzer at his blogging best:

Cooking Made Iconic 

As a renowned and notorious vegan, yes that means no cheese; I thought it was time to share my iconic recipes with the world. Unfortunately, for my bank account I left it too late to produce a penguin classic cookbook in time for Christmas. It’s my own fault for the tardiness of this for I have been quite busy recently, beds of five star hotels do not sleep in themselves you know. For those of you who think this isn’t a good career path for such a man, it was good enough for Kris Jenner... 

Step 1. Produce elegantly written shopping list full of organic ingredients and hand to lead guitarist. Include desert, preferably vegan cheesecake. If you do not have a lead guitarist then use your drummer, but be sure to count and re-count the change.

Step 2. Wait for guitarist to leave and open the expensive stuff. Recline with laptop and play online monopoly.

Step 3. Win online monopoly.

Step 4. Ponder why you have more virtual money than real money. 

**Morrissey's note: Perhaps try to steer clear of expensive court trials in the future, the pension pot is slowly dwindling.

Step 5. Find a local vegetarian takeaway menu as you do not trust the lead guitarist to procure all ingredients, or, not to lose them on the way home.

**Morrissey's note: I do not think the lead guitarist is as clumsy or foolish enough to lose ingredients, but I do not trust him not to devour the produce before arriving safely back to me.

Step 6. Call lawyer.

Step 7. Become exasperated with lawyer who tells you of impending court action. Tell him all you would like to know is whether you can sue for lost ingredients.

Step 8. Hang up on lawyer when he complains about lack of payment.

Step 9. Congratulate oneself on saving money by making guitarist walk to the local shop instead of taking Mercedes.

Step 10. Phone Mam, and tell her you expect aubergine for Christmas dinner. Warn her that you will be disappointed if the sprouts are soggy.

Step 11. Check clock. Tap feet impatiently. Catch glimpse of animal friendly shoes. Admire shoes.

Step 12. Consider shirt change.

Step 13. Take current £600 shirt off whilst admiring iconic torso in mirror. Flex muscles and admire physique. Change into £850 shirt.

Step 14. Return to laptop and google name.

Step 15. Pour double vodka after reading various hurtful slurs.

Step 16. Curse the time it is taking the guitarist to return.

Step 17. Order from takeaway menu. Do not order the guitarist a thing.

Step 18. Rest eyebrows and stroke jaw. Consider plastic surgery for jowls.

Step 19. Research obscure songs for pre-show music.

Step 20. Become startled at the doorbell. Contemplate not letting guitarist back indoors. Look out of window and see foreign takeaway driver. Mexican. open door immediately.

Step 21. Try to flirt with Mexican takeaway driver. Realise you have no charm, begrudgingly pay for delivery.

Step 22. See guitarist running, or what passes as running, towards the door.

Step 23. Denigrate guitarist for taking far too long. Open shopping bag. Notice cheesecake is not of the vegan variety. Salivate at the idea. See that guitarist has purchased buy one get one free ingredients. Congratulate him on his good business sense. Do not mention failing record store in Camden.

Step 24. Do not eat at your table just in case you damage expensive silk tablecloth. Make your guitarist kneel on all fours and use his back as a table. Use candles for ambience.

Step 25. Thoroughly enjoy the fruits of your labour.

Step 26. Rest eyebrows.

Step 27. Eat cheesecake. Everyone is allowed a day off.

Step 28. Burp apologetically.

Step 29. Blame record label.

Step 30. Watch Coronation Street.

To follow the above you will need:

Ingredients

* Guitarist (if you have no guitarist available a drummer will do, but they can prove to be more expensive in the long run)

* Champagne

* Array of spirits

* Spare shirts

* Laptop

* Mirror

* Phone

* Candles

Prep time: 1 hr 15 mins

Cooking time: no cooking necessary 

Difficulty: Extremely

Cost: None except time spent admiring oneself

Our Mozzer also took to Twitter on Sunday morning to reply to a tweet I had posted; in which I had pointed out that Friday Mourning never got an airing on the tour - OM tweeted, "It never will", which implied to me not that the song had been retired for good, but that Morrissey's live career was over. My thought was further backed up by the appearance yesterday evening in The Wrong Arms of Mademoiselle Fifi, who in response to me playing Francoise Hardy's Il est parti un jour (He Left One Day), played Comment the dire adieu (How to Say Goodbye to You) and added, "This would have been more apt. More apt." I responded to this by saying, that this cannot be the end, but Fifi then played I Know It's Over, adding the hashtag, stillicling. We all cling - we don't know where else we can go.

Day 2024 - Musings of a snowflake

December 21, 2016, 3:31 am

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There were some bizarre happenings yesterday in both the world of internet blogger, Our Mozzer, and that of the former lead singer of 80s indie pop band, the Smiths, Morrissey.

Following the publication of my blog entry of yesterday; in which I published some pieces from the new TrueMorrissey blog, Our Mozzer hauled me into the toilets of The Wrong Arms, and instructed me to remove my blog entry "immediately"; informing me that the articles were not mine to publish. He then went on to instruct me to remove my whole blog, labelling it "an embarrassment".

OM (@SeminalArtiste) then took to Twitter to write, "@TheRatsBack is no longer part of our journey. The journey is no longer a journey. It's over. Death. Gone. Always. Forever." When Sarkka (@EnoughSari) asked him why, OM replied, "He has yet again betrayed my trust."

OM then took to his True Morrissey blog, posting a piece entitled, Not A Beginning, in which he wrote:

"It has finished before it started. You may blame one blogging c***. There will be no new blog. No interaction. The journey is over."


OM then returned to the toilets of The Arms, where he informed me that I had no authority to publish something that was not in the public domain. I pointed out that the articles ARE in the public domain - further proven by GWO, who took to the comments section of yesterday's FTM entry to publish the whole of the Musings of the Corrupt Mind, which she had found cached on google - but decided to bow to OM's demands, and removed my blog entry of yesterday - but obviously not before our old friend, Chuck (remember her?) had seen it, because an hour or so later, she took to the comments section of Day 1939 of FTM and wrote, "The deleted comments on the last deleted post, were originally posted here: https://alfsbutton.wordpress.com - the mystery had suddenly thickened!


CHUCK

Chuck must have googled the words that either I or GWO had posted from Musings of the Corrupt Mind, and had discovered that there were even more words of The Mozziah just floating about in cyber space. It's as though there are a trail of breadcrumbs being left all over the internet. Goodness only knows what else Morrissey has posted that is out there, waiting to be discovered.

The AlfsButton wordpress - which again is OBVIOUSLY in the public domain - contains not only the whole of Musings of the Corrupt Mind; as published by GWO yesterday, but also some additional paragraphs. In all, there are eight postings on the wordpress, dating from June 2nd 2015 to June 22nd 2015 - a period of time before and during Morrissey's tour of the USA. Here it is, in full:

June 2, 2015
The only thing worth parodying is life itself. Even then the parody produces more life than life could ever hope to. We are amused because amusement is confusion. We live because we are told that taking life is not noble. However those in the know, knowingly in the know, know that life is not worth living. We live in interesting times. I’d rather be in Fallowfield than the arse of the world. But in reality, is there a difference?

June 4, 2015
The only certainty, if you can call certainty completely certain, is that there is no such thing as certainty. No dearest reader(s), there is no such thing in life as certainty. Life is full of twists and turns, crashes and bump landings, answers that were yes yesterday and no today. I have no use for tomorrow. None whatsoever. Of that I’m certain. Life is a merry-go-round and the rhythm of life? It goes round. The possibilities of life are endless but life is also futile. Dull and banal, making you unable to even muster the strength to make a weak cup of tea. A tea that does not pass muster. Tea is also a distraction. All of modern consumerism is a distraction from the real world. What makes others feel happy, well it leads me head first into harm. No, not harm, outrage. No not outrage, disgust. Disgust, outrage and harm. Life is pointless. But this? This you surely knew.

Outrageously yours,
The third worst troubadour

June 13, 2015
Riddle me this, riddle me that. Twiddle your thumb, sit on your hat. Rhythm relates to life but life does not relate to rhythm. Systems of spiteful taunts crush those live in shyness. Shyness is of course the greatest modern malady. Yet those who suffer from this disease are offered no sympathy, no cure. Errors of ability, mismanagement of authority, the blunders of bureaucracies. Forces push you and forces pull you from hither to nowhere and then back to the middle. Forced to work, forced to love, and forced to exist. We exist in vacuums. Dirt will encase as all in the end.

Insincerely yours,
21st Century Fag Boy

The next 5 postings are what makes up the piece, Musings of the Corrupt Mind:

June 17, 2015
Paralysed with a social awkwardness, a child of five no longer wants to be alive. A child of seven welcomes the thought of hell or heaven although the child of eight knows neither exists and is only alive due to hate. A child of nine purposefully falls down a mine and smatters his spine on the alpine. A child of ten grows to hate but also crave the touch of men. A child of thirteen cannot comprehend what life truly means. Boy racers zoom past you after too many whisky chasers. Laser beams beaming directly into your eyes. Nobody is satisfied with the way they live their life. Are you satisfied? Do something, anything. I cannot remember the last time I saw sense. But it is argued quite forcefully that my senses abandoned me years ago.

From
Your fly in the ointment

June 19, 2015
“Suffering is permanent, obscure, and dark
And has the nature of infinity”

So said Prunella Scales back in 1874. Suffering, as old prune face clearly knew, is a lonely venture. No man is an island of course however some men are more adrift in the ocean than others. Whilst some are connected through a common bond, a common culture, a common language, I, I have always stood alone. Suffering is me, and I am suffering. I am as much an individualist now than I ever was. Suffering is endless and suffering has meaning. The underlying meaning of suffering is the quest that, once solved, will eradicate the very suffering of suffering. In my life I have been given nothing but yet I seem to possess everything that makes the world spin and turn. Money, passion, fame, adulation. What is my suffering? It is a suffering that is silent. A silent suffering is the worst. When one acquires everything one ceases to try. I became amused with trinkets. Amused with consumerism. Content with the ordinary. A man is a beast and a man I am not. Religion cannot help me now. Reason spits on my name. Contentment laughs in my face. Humiliation is my fate.

Life is a game my friends and we are all on the losing side.

Yours inconsolably,
Joe Orton’s Tea towel.

June 21, 2015
The water is set to boil as the soil falls over heads. Heads of dismay, heads led astray. The adult is the child and the child is unfortunately the adult. Ireland issued illness, England encapsulated enigma, Manchester made madness, and Switzerland seeks sorrow. What the adult says to the child makes the child recoil under a table. What the child says to the adult? The adult is unable to understand the simple thoughts of a child’s mind but the child thinks the same. Thoughts of a holiday dismay the dismal. Abroad seems like home and home is like another country. Dullness of thoughts betray aliveness of eyes. Footballs once kicked against the side of a wall to annoy the neighbour inside are now kicked against empty shells of shops that have been left behind by department stores. Stores that offer everything but deliver nothing. Stores that mirror life.

Forever in spite.

AGE

June 22, 2015
I will forever be astounded at the lack of intelligence or feeling within the human race. So much outpouring of grief over Chinese festival where Dogs are slaughtered for their meat. Yes this is barbaric. There is no doubt about that. The Chinese are an inhumane lot. However how many of those who protest at this festival will, tomorrow or the next day, sit down on their chairs unable to take their weight and tuck into bacon?

Suffering is the same no matter how cute the animal is.

A dog is a chicken, is a pig, is a lamb.

June 22, 2015
Masquerading as a malcontent, maladjusted, misery monster is easy. What is somewhat easier is not masquerading at all.  We gallantly gallivant about because we are all gadabouts. Our conversation is loquacious. Our silence is sinister.  My entire life has been constructed in dreams. Dreams, and dreams alone, give meaning to my life. Music is escape. Escape is relaxation. Relaxation is bliss. I am interested in everything and yet I own and I am not owned by anything. Love is a question mark. A waif, a stray, a throwback to a bygone age. I was not made for reality and yet reality kicked down the door. To understand yourself you must destroy yourself.  I understand now that I am nothing. We are nothing. I never wanted to be anything so I have won that small victory.

In flashes of ashes.

Your misanthrope

It is all fascinating stuff.

Meanwhile, in the real world of Morrissey, he yesterday posted a new piece on True-To-You entitled, Death is not the final word, which again is bizarre. The article; which starts with three dots and a pause - but that is another story, is all about an 84 year old Japanese musician called, Tomita, whose death earlier this year has apparently caused Morrissey to struggle more than any other death this year! Really? I don't recall Morrissey ever having mentioned this Tomita chap before; there is certainly no reference to him in Autobiography, nor the album Snowflakes Are Dancing, which Morrissey claims in the TTY statement he has listened to "constantly for forty years, especially on the hard days of self-judgement." Are these definitely the words of Morrissey, or has David Sylvian, Brian Eno, Ralf Hütter or Rusty Egan hacked TTY?

Here is the TTY statement in full:

... for there are some people who are lucky enough to leave such a powerful mark on life that not even death can wipe them out. In this Year Of Death ... from Richard Davalos to Frank Finlay to Prince to my very dear friend Victoria Wood ... I struggled most of all with the death of TOMITA, whose Snowflakes are dancing (RCA) I have listened to constantly for 40 years, especially on hard days of self-judgment. It is a recording that you can listen to repeatedly until you hear nothing else. All you need to do is to keep quiet. In a few minutes all the right answers come through and you will find that there had never been any reason, after all, to feel angry.

If you do not know this recording, I envy your first listen. Track 5 especially will stay with you for always, as the best music does ... never outside time. It might take you back to the lost years of personal honesty in music, when artists gave everything that they had and everything that they were.

MORRISSEY
20 December 2016.

Right then, I'm off to have my virgin listen to Snowflakes Are Dancing - well I would, wouldn't I!



Foot Note - I wonder just what Morrissey will make of Justin Bieber, who is currently all over the news wearing a coyote coat.

Day 2026 - The journey continues

December 23, 2016, 2:07 am

≫ Next: Day 2030 - Christmas Death

≪ Previous: Day 2024 - Musings of a snowflake

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Despite Our Mozzer tweeting on Wednesday that, "the journey is no longer a journey. It's over. Death", two new articles were published on the True Morrissey blog yesterday; the first entitled Sugar Daddy, and the second, False Victimhood.

As the moody blogger has 'previous' for deleting blogs, here for the record are the two articles:

Sugar Daddy

As I have conquered and dominated the musical and cultural landscape in Britain and worldwide for decades with my iconic eyebrows, majestic jaw, above average torso and Wildean wit. I have decided it is time to move into a declining entertainment medium, television. Now, some people may think that it is a strange move for such a mesmerising human to lower himself to the cultural nadir that is television. But I truly believe I can reverse the fortunes of this once great cultural vehicle, much like I reversed the fortunes of the ailing Brookside soap opera, and single-handedly kept the show on the air for as long as it was with one historic appearance on South.  Whilst it is true that television produces loneliness and is the methadone metronome, there are occasions of brilliance. I for one cannot wait for the latest instalment of Danny Dyer’s hard hitting social commentary documentary called EastEnders.


Having decided on taking over television screens across Britain, Boz and I sat down to discuss my various options. Boz suggested I apply to become a contestant on Countdown due to my Scrabble proficiency. I could not bring myself to admit that I replace my Z’s with blanks whilst he tries to construct a word on the board. We then discussed an appearance on Dragons Den, but Boz alerted me to the fact that enigmatic otherness is not really an invention or a business model. I acquiesced but only because I refuse to stand in front of Deborah Meaden, as her face resembles butter spread over the knee of the last place entrant into the Blackpool bi-annual knobbly knees competition.  Also, I have observed them only once invest enough money to make my appearance worthwhile. I do not just show up on any old show.  I could perhaps replace Mary Berry on the Great British Bake Off, but again I refuse to stand next to Paul Hollywood whose forehead wrinkles surely hide crumbs from cakes polished off years ago. Has he never heard of Botox?  It has kept a certain guitarist free of wrinkles for years.


Deborah Meaden at her most dashing.


It was then I recalled the first computer I owned and the keyboard that collected with startling regularity the crumbs from my plum jam on toast. It had a terrible memory, a terrible sound, took too long to get going and was falling apart, it always used to remind me of someone but I’m not too sure who.  It dawned on me that the owner of the company was a certain Alan Sugar who I am led to believe is a television personality these days. If ever we needed a reason to believe we live in terrifying times it is the fact that Alan Sugar is described as having a personality, let alone one suitable for television. Boz told me that the show is called The Apprentice and all you need is a business idea. Having already told me that enigmatic otherness was not a business plan I looked at Boz strangely. Boz, fearing my wrath, told me that the prize was £250,000. I nearly fell off his back. My innate genius clicked into action and I do believe I am the winner of The Apprentice 2017.  Here is my application/winners form.

BUSINESS PLAN

A instant hit album, number 1 guaranteed unless Ed Sheeran releases an album at the same time, with the entire music industry against me, and little or no radio airplay, I would say it’s almost a certainty. A nationwide 6 date U.K. tour, well I don’t want to work too hard but don’t let that put you off.

**Morrissey's note: Mr Sugar, I refuse to call him Lord, must realise that the opportunity to work with an artiste of my standing and magnitude will do wonders for his reputation, just ask the *M* who knew that criticising me will produce internet hits, oh what I wouldn’t give for any kind of hit.

The money will be spent on the following:

£50,000 on hotel expenses. I must stay at least 20 miles from where I am recording to maintain a professional distance.

£20,000 on a studio. There must be at least eight pictures of oneself hanging from the walls. Nothing excessive.

£12,000 on my Beat the Street tour bus. Comfort comes at a price, just ask Karren Brady who has spent no money on comfort ever. She walks as if she wears cardboard suits.

£8,000 on creative juices. Champagne and Vodka mainly, perhaps a beer or two but I should see how the reflux is before I commit to that.

£1,000 on an album producer. Although we could find a willing art school student who will complete this task under the guise of ‘experience’. My albums do not need to be produced, but slowly nurtured. 

You will see that this only eats into £91,000 of the winner’s prize. The remaining monies will be divided amongst the following expenses.

I have musicians, friends, associates, staff, underlings who will need to be paid. They are as follows:

Boz Boorer - £2,500
Jesse Tobias - £2,000 + signed copy of Years of Refusal
Gustavo Manzur - £1,500 + Morrissey cook book
Matt Walker - £1,000 + childcare vouchers
Gary Day - 2 Coronas

These necessary expenditures leaves £152,000 left over. This will be spent as follows:

£52,000 – Lawyers fees
£100,000 – My appearance fee


PERSONAL DETAILS

First name: 

Last name: Morrissey

Date of birth:  14.03.1988. I know I don’t look a day over 21, remarkable really with all the stress I’ve had to endure. Not to mention the knock-backs, Justin Bieber never responded to my request to be his support act. Perhaps that Louis Tomlinson will need a seminal support act for his upcoming tour? Once he’s stopped exploiting the death of his mother for commercial gain. Perhaps I could pull the same trick? Although there could possibly be murder if there is no aubergine for Christmas lunch. 

Gender:   I have not checked my gender in years.

What do you do for a living, and who for?  I produce art. I am art. For arts sake.

State all qualifications, giving details of establishments attended:

Linguistic intercourse -   Manchester Central Library - Distinction
Enigmatic otherness – Living room, hotel room, stage - Distinction
Twitter star – Pass
Modern Day Oscar -  Ungraded, personal opinion, validated online
Establishment pariah -  Court Rooms -  Double Distinction 

Current salary:  Ask the Drummer.


ABOUT YOU

Have you ever applied for or have you ever appeared on TV before: I cannot recall a time where I was not constantly appearing on TV somewhere. I am a global phenomenon. Television appearances have slowed down recently, but I sit waiting for the phone to ring so I can finally fulfill my lifelong ambition of sitting next to Coleen Nolan and appearing live on Loose Women. 

Have you or a relative ever worked for the BBC, Freemantle Media Ltd, Boundless, Euston Films, Newman Street, Retort, Shotglass Media, Talkback or Thames in any capacity before: Not that I am aware, but if my nephew’s talent on photoshop is ever recognised for the modern day Picasso that I believe he is, then it’s possible he will be the creative director of all the above listed companies. Please see artwork on my own personal website.

Have you ever worked in journalism or broadcasting in any capacity? Yes. Two life changing books published before international pop stardom. One bestselling Penguin Classic autobiography and one cult classic novel, which in years to come will be compared to James Joyce. 

Why should you be Lord Sugar's business partner? The question should be why should I be Mr Sugar’s business partner? I await his postcard. 

What makes you different from everyone else applying? The other applicants will be as interesting as irritable bowel syndrome and twice as annoying. 

What is the most interesting thing about you? My eyebrows and a not dissimilar appearance to Popeye. 

What's the most impressive thing you've ever done in business? Turning depression, waspish wit, and a disastrous dress sense into art.  This is above charging £79 for a concert with the same set list as the previous 148 concerts. Alan surely knows not to change a format that works.

How did you hear about the process? Is there a process? Surely you can transfer the £250,000 to my bank account now?  Please make sure to call this payment ‘Pools win’ otherwise the Drummer can claim it all. 

Here is the second piece:


False Victimhood

The world is scattered with people who laugh in public and cry in private. Those that are truly depressed and realise there is no hope in life somehow manage to produce a public mask to hide their true feelings.  It's those who are truly depressed, those who, in the quiet alone times with no one watching, grieve their own fears in private. The world however is also littered with certain people who laugh in private and cry in public. These people paint themselves as the perpetual victim whereas in reality they are the villains of those who truly suffer.  Proper victims are thought to be pure and deserving of our sympathy and this is something I believe. Those who are victims deserve every ounce of compassion possible.  Compassion is arguably the trait that is the signal of a moral good. Therefore we wish to show compassion to prove what outstanding humans we are. However, we that show compassion are being duped by those who claim to suffer, not in order to receive compassion, but attention. We see it all around.  

Those who complain about work online but still manage to attend and for what? Money? No, for something to complain about online when they return home. For what? Attention.  Those who pretend to feel angry when they see various acts of animal cruelty but still tuck into their turkey dinosaurs and partake in the holocaust-like animal slaughter industry. True depression and true sadness is the look in the eyes of a cow when it sees what blood-lusting humans believe it was born for.  They say they do not want to bring a child into a world full of meanness and barbarity which is clearly a disguise for the fact that they are terminally alone because no other human could find their dirge of a personality attractive. They say that people do not understand them but how could they possibly? There is nothing to understand. 

They constantly cry “poor me, nobody can understand my woes” as if they are the first person in all of existence to experience life.  It is in this instant gratification world we currently live in that is to blame. The false victim can instantly receive validation online and therefore attention.  These people are those who had a comfortable upbringing, all of the good things in life and never had to struggle. They fail to reconcile their current life with the life that was promised to them. So they search the validation of strangers but because they have lived a sheltered life they have no accomplishments or no personality. They use depression for their own means.  We can all play the victim however only some of us are. 

The True Morrissey blog has also reinstated the Musings of the Corrupt Mind piece, and Cooking made iconic. The blog also also now lists the two pieces that had formerly been posted on the now defunct MorrisseysWord blog: Too Much of a Saga and Let your juvenile impulses sway. The journey would appear to be well and truly back on.

Our Mozzer even took to Twitter to announce the publication of the two new pieces; first announcing Sugar Daddy by tweeting, "A new and previously unseen blog post from my mesmerising mind is afoot. Keep abreast." and later announcing, "A new blog post that has been written between the last post and now will shortly be uploaded. My advice would be not to play the victim." 

OM also tweeted a message to BRS member Heather (@heathercat222), saying, "for noticing the links of death I have followed you. Intelligence is to be rewarded. In these times I thank you." OM is now following three people on Twitter, with the other two being Stephen Fry and BRS member, Harison (@OdysseyNumber5). The "links of death" tweet is a reference to Heather's comment left on FTM on Wednesday, in which she observed that, "the mention of death in the TTY title reminded me of OM's tweet that mentioned death, but it was probably just wishful thinking on my part that death might not be the final word in our journey." It would appear that it wasn't just wishful thinking on Heather's part, and we now know why that random TTY article was posted.

OM's final tweet of yesterday, which was posted at 7.51pm, was, "Let us pause for reflection". I have no idea what this means, if indeed there is a meaning.

Mademoiselle Fifi has also made a visit to The Wrong Arms, posting a photo on Wednesday evening of Jean Cocteau with actress, Michèle Morgan, who died on Tuesday at the age of 96.



And now, as I have been told that I am no longer part of the journey, I shall, for the time being at least, take down this entry; along with the rest of my "embarrassment" of a blog....well, perhaps I'll leave up the odd classic. Future FTM entries will be for my own personal gratification - I am no longer a supplier.

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Day 2030 - Christmas Death

December 27, 2016, 4:59 am

≫ Next: Day 2075 - Brockmans' island

≪ Previous: Day 2026 - The journey continues

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As requested by Our Mozzer, I have now removed all of my blog entries, and will remove this one before the day is out.

The reason that I am writing a blog entry, is because at 5.24pm on Christmas evening, OM published a new entry on his True Morrissey blog, entitled Chistmoz; which is an account of Morrissey's Christmas Day at home with his mother, so I feel I have to record this on FTM, even if it's not to stay in the public domain.

As to whether Morrissey is currently at home in Cheshire with his mother, or as to whether anything remotely resembling the contents of this Christmas tale actually happened, one can only guess, but I still cling to the dream that the author of this, and the other blog entries,  really is the work of the real indie 80s pop icon, Morrissey. Anyway, whoever it is that has spent the whole of Christmas afternoon writing this piece, I salute them, it's a classic:

25 December 2016
Christmoz - Dictated by OM, Typed by Dawn

Christmas has been thrust upon us once again. I have survived it for another year at least. Today has been truly diabolical, with the fist disaster of the day at the ungodly hour of 10 a.m. when Mam pointed out to me that my yearly tradition of three snowballs in my muesli may not be suitable for a vegan diet. Well neither was the chocolate cake I consumed last night, as fast as the drummer consumes my wallet. I must only drop a tenner for a second and he’s behind me picking it up and scampering away. Never has my life felt more Dickensian. Mam was right of course, I could not be seen eating a non-vegan breakfast when the family arrive; I do have a reputation to uphold.  Plus, you never know if Alexis Petridis is hiding in the bushes/living in the bushes with a long-lens camera just waiting for me to trip up. I placed the muesli in the bin and returned my eyebrows to a resting position.


Returning to the sofa I notice that it is at least several decades old. In fact, it could be the same sofa I penned my first iconic poem aged seven. Mam had been bleating on about the sofa and how it has no back support. I assumed this was a hint for me to replace it. I don’t know who she thinks I am, I hardly have any money leftover after self-funding my own tours. Not that the bunch of cretins over at that soLow cesspit have any concept of my struggle. Lawyer called at 11 a.m., probably to escape his dreary children, to give me my daily update of pending cases. I informed him its Christmas day and I refuse to be disturbed, b****** lawyer said he was returning my 3 a.m. phone call. I do not remember making this alleged phone call, perhaps I consumed too many Baileys last night? The Bem Brasil incident appears to be settling down now, thank heavens for super injunctions. What am I supposed to do if a friendly looking Hispanic waiter catches my eye as I’m walking down Altrincham High Street? Lawyer discusses payment and I accidentally drop the phone onto the fireplace. My stomach was in turmoil after being reminded of draconian lawyers on Christmas day. I mistook anguish for hunger and returned to the bin to retrieve my leftover muesli. Mam slapped me once on the hand and once on the face. I see the arthritis has cleared up, but I’m sure it will be back in time to escape the washing up. You can never escape being Morrissey, mother.


Aunt Hilda boomed through the door carrying presents and years of resentment. “Ah Steven” she said as I noticeably recoiled in horror. She went on to praise ‘This Charming Man’, again. Does she not know of my career since then? I have many a great work to compliment but she must constantly endorse this record.  Nephew arrived with boundless energy and career ending stare. He really is the perfect kind of human. Talented, humble, and quite generous. He has picked up some of my better traits. Not a fan of the name Sam though, he should consider changing it to something more iconic than Sam, like Clive or Colin. I notice Sam carrying a present addressed to “Uncle Mozziassey”, bless him, autism must be hard to deal with. Mam informs everyone that dinner will be served in fifteen minutes. I try and set the TV to record the Top Gear repeat and notice that Jeremy Clarkson is no longer the host. I assume I’ve missed the headlines surrounding his arrest under Operation Yewtree. Mam serves Christmas dinner on plates clearly purchased from the Argos basic range. I am livid but on the plus side she has made aubergine. It appears threats of baseball bats and pillows over the face whilst sleeping will get you what you want. Sprouts were not soggy, instead they were horribly overdone. I choked them down as to not cause a fuss. Christmas spirit and all that. Mam returned to kitchen and to my surprise completes the washing up. I am left with Aunt Hilda. I played the modern version of This Charming Man. Hilda fell off her chair in what I can only assume to be an appreciation of the artistry involved in taking a mediocre song and transforming it into a Beethoven-like classic.


Presents followed. Now, I am not a cheapskate but as you are all aware I have had some money issues this year. A tour had to be cancelled so I could drink as much as I liked due to lack of funds. Plus, I was rather overgenerous this year with gifts for the people who appear with me on stage. Each of them received an animal friendly £5 note from 2005. Don’t say old Mozza doesn’t look after those nearest and dearest to him. Therefore, I had to recycle previous years pass the parcel winnings as presents. Sam was thrilled with his 2004 vinyl, he started to draw on it with crayons immediately. Aunt Hilda received a 2006 vinyl and asked if this is the one with ‘This Charming Man’ on. My patience was wearing thin. Sam had purchased me Photoshop for Beginners. I stopped myself just in time before saying that he should perhaps use it first. I become fixated with this box and laugh at the possibility of putting Boz's current face onto his 1992 body. Aunt Hilda plunged further in my estimations when I open her gift to find Just for Men hair dye. She explains that she spoke to “that John boy” I “used to run around with”, and she ascertained it was the brand he used. B******. Mam however has lost her little boy forever. She dared to buy me Age of Boom for which I receive no royalties whatsoever. However, the final insult was when I opened what I thought would be the complete works of Auden, which I had asked for, but instead was greeted with ‘Set the Boy Free’. I was outraged and immediately threw the book onto the floor and enigmatically left the living room. She’ll get no sofa from me.


Calmed down with the help of Baileys, it’s truly magnificent that Irish Cream has, and always will be vegan. Returned to the living room to see family watching a quiz recapping 2016. I see that delightful Farage chap is still being lampooned by so called comedians. That is no way to treat the second most important person to influence the Brits to vote for Brexit. I was clearly the first. In keeping a distance from the whole debate until after the announcement was made, I projected my voting preference with a twitch of my right eyebrow in interviews and on stage. Those who understood, understood and those that didn’t never could. Farage really is a likeable person even if his face resembles that of a frog pushed up against glass. Brexit really was the highlight of my year. Phone accidentally dropped into the fireplace starts to ring. I answer to hear the familiar family favourite voice of John Challis. We however have never spoken so I was most perturbed. He explained that he was actually looking for Vic R****s. I kept him on the phone for twenty-five minutes whilst I recited from memory the entire 1985 Only Fools and Horses Christmas Special. He shouted that he has done other work since Only Fools, and that he did not want to be remembered for one thing. Well John, old mucker, I’ve done great things since The Smiths and they are the only thing people remember about me, and you don’t hear me complaining, do you?


Hilda and Mam have fallen asleep in front of the TV whilst little Sam was playing with a toy fire engine on the carpet. I returned to the TV and saw a documentary on Amanda Holden. My brain cells declined at the utter charisma vacuum I saw in front of me. Threw Johnny’s book at TV. The TV smashed. The book was clearly good for something. They may be lightweight words but the binding is heavyweight. I mean, just because I was capable of writing a classic autobiography where nobody learns a thing, doesn’t mean anyone can do it. I decided that with everyone else asleep or preoccupied with age appropriate toys, that I should probably try and read this drivel. Read first half in 4 minutes. Does he really have nothing bad to say about anyone? He certainly did in every interview once The Smiths split. Finished book in ten minutes. Fell into a coma.

Meanwhile, whilst the above piece was being written and published, and with Our Mozzer describing how he survived Christmas "for another year at least", my other hero of popular music, George Michael, didn't survive it, and instead was being driven to the local Oxfordshire morgue, having been found dead in his bed on Christmas morning.





It is truly tragic that such a beautiful and talented man has gone at just 53 years of age, but George just couldn't help himself. I would imagine that Morrissey would be almost envious at the way George let himself decline and demise - it is incredibly Wildean. I just hope that Morrissey doesn't now choose to let himself go the same way. The only thing that is probably (and hopefully) stopping him, is that his mother is still alive. If Morrissey's mum wasn't still here, then he may well simply give up - you can almost see him thriving on self destruction.




The news of GM's death was made public just after 11pm, and Our Mozzer took to Twitter at 2.20am to simply tweet, "Sadness."It has been said by a few sources that The Smiths were one of George Michael's favourite bands, and I have a feeling that Morrissey was secretly a great admirer of George's. M and I have certainly had a fair bit of banter over the past few years on Twitter about George. I would love to see Morrissey make an official statement on TTY about how much he admired George, but I don't suppose it will happen.



OM has posted two further tweets since Christmas Day, both yesterday. The first was at 11.39am:

"Flabbergasted at the deaths 2016 has given us. Flabbergasted even more that the Queen and her Kraut husband still remaining (sic) standing."and the second was at 8.32pm in response to a photo posted by Kerry 'Boozey' Messenger (@boozelette) of a sunset: "the sun going down on my career."

PHOTOS OF MOZ POSTED ON TTY ON CHRISTMAS EVE ALONG WITH HIS CHRISTMAS MESSAGE

Day 2075 - Brockmans' island

February 11, 2017, 3:44 am

≫ Next: Day 2086 - Because we must

≪ Previous: Day 2030 - Christmas Death

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A rather tipsy Dawn Mist showed up in The Wrong Arms last night, clutching a black bottle. Here are her offerings:

"The lighthouse shines brighter on the island."

"One may return back to the lighthouse of hopelessness."

"The lighthouse has found a new gin. Brockmans is quintessentially exquisite."


NEW FAVOURITE TIPPLE OF THE LIGHTHOUSE

When I enquired if the lighthouse referred to might be on Long Island, the reply was:

"Alas, not this year. EC only for reformation"

The reformation referred to is the one which had been hinted at last month. I asked, "No ref this year then?", to which Dawn replied, "*blows cheeks* apparently not".

I now think I know what the "death" and "personal sadness" that Our Mozzer referred to the other day was all about.



Dawn often speaks in riddles, and I am wondering if the lighthouse on the island could refer to there being a forthcoming concert in Hawaii; the place where Morrissey gave me an interview in 2012 - an interview which included a quote about What Difference Does it Make, which Songfacts.com now quote as gospel.

DIAMOND HEAD LIGHTHOUSE IN HAWAII

And finally, something that could mean something, or could mean nothing. On True-To-You website last week, Morrissey announced a 'schedule' for concerts in the US, whereas the dates for Mexico were listed as 'confirmed'. Despite some of these US shows having already sold out, will they actually go ahead?



And now, I am off for a pint in The Spice Island Inn, and then to watch my football team play against Accrington Stanley.... no Brockmans in the surroundings of luxury lighthouses for little old me.

Day 2086 - Because we must

February 22, 2017, 9:25 am

≫ Next: Day 2088 - Ear, Ear

≪ Previous: Day 2075 - Brockmans' island

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All has been fairly quiet on the Moz front, which is just as well as I have been busy pounding the streets of Manhattan. I visited a couple of record shops during my three day trip, including In Living Stereo in NoHo's Great Jones Street, where I bought Johnny Marr's The Messenger for 11 bucks (reduced from 20). I also got to see the brilliant Gregory Porter play at The Town Hall on West 43rd Street - a venue that would be absolutely perfect for Morrissey, although I expect that he's already played it.


LIVING IN STEREO ON GREAT JONES STREET


THE TOWN HALL ON WEST 43RD

And whilst I left these shores for America, Morrissey left America for Blighty. He has been photographed this week with a very tall bloke called Craig at the BMG office in London, but as to why he was there; Morrissey that is, not Craig, who apparently works there, I do not know. I guess Morrissey may have attended with his friends Ron & Russell Mael, who have just signed to BMG.






With regards to Our Mozzer and Dawn Mist, there have been the occasional visits to The Wrong Arms, but not many, and not much was said when they did visit. Here are the offerings of Dawn:

Feb 14
"The bored seminal lighthouse keeper"

Feb 18
"You're so hollow."

Feb 20
"If I could mention my love life. I wouldn't." I replied to this with, "I bet that lighthouse has seen some action!", to which Dawn responded, "the action or non-action of the lighthouse is none of your concern. A lighthouse keeper must have some secrets. This you know."

"The calendar is full."

Dawn played the song Under the Milky Way by The Church on the jukebox. Sari (@EnoughSari) then told Dawn, "I love this song", to which Dawn replied, "I love that you love. Does it remind you of another band perhaps? You hear what I hear?" I jumped in with, "Never heard this before, nor heard of the band. The lead singer sounds very Lou Reed to me." Dawn took umbrage to me sticking my nose into her conversation, and replied, "You can fuck off.".... so I did. Dawn then fucked off too. Sari hasn't yet replied to Dawn's question.

And here are Our Mozzer's offerings:

Feb 12
"Find beauty in ugly things"

Feb 14
"If you're lonely then you will be alone in a room full of other humans. Loneliness attacks the scraps."

In response to me posting a photo of an ebay listing of a terribly forged Morrissey autograph: "Joyce looking to make extra money for that garage extension"

Feb 20
"We move on from personal tragedies because we must."

As to whether or not this personal tragedy is the same as the personal sadness that was engulfing Our Mozzer on February 5th, I cannot say, but I am pleased to see that he has found the capability to move on - there is always something to move on to....because we must!

Day 2088 - Ear, Ear

February 24, 2017, 9:31 am

≫ Next: Day 2095 - The final curtain

≪ Previous: Day 2086 - Because we must

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Yesterday evening, I went to see my latest 'favourite new band', The Sherlocks. Before leaving, I popped into The Wrong Arms for a pre-concert half, and bumped into both Dawn Mist and Our Mozzer. For the record, here is our conversation:

RAT: Guess who I'm going to see tonight? *Puts Will You Be There by The Sherlocks on the jukebox*

DAWN: Dreary

RAT: I'd expect no less from you

DAWN: You expect too much from me. You all do

RAT: I expect nothing; although a thrown together blog piece would've been nice, but I'll live without it...I have The Sherlocks!

DAWN: My creative juices are otherwise occupied. Deciding which table runner to buy is exhausting.

RAT: Is this what it's come too?..... go with the black one!

DAWN: I shall not take your advice on such important matters.

OUR MOZZER (or SEMINAL BULLY as he is now labelled on his Twitter profile): One does not simply throw together a blog piece. I know that works for you but some of us have higher standards

RAT: Really? Some might say you've not written a decent blog piece since 2011

OUR MOZZER: And you would be a sad old man without me to fill your evenings

RAT: I AM a sad old man, even WITH you filling my evenings....and you're a sad old man with nothing better to do than fill my...

OUR MOZZER: Why are you still here then? You should surrender yourself to the blackness of your life.

RAT: I like it here. Would I have turned down the opportunity to sit with Oscar on those Parisian nights of 1898/99? Of course not!

OUR MOZZER: One doubts you would have been invited. Not even to clean his ears





Dawn had been in The Arms since 11am. She was presumably bored. Here are her offerings:

"One must decide on how to waste the rest of one's day."

"NationalToastDay Champagne? This early? I shall toast to that."

Dawn then retweeted a photo tweet that OM had posted on January 20th, and added, "Oh, what a coincidence. The first official photo of 2017 in similar attire."


MOZ - AS TWEETED BY OM JAN 20TH



MOZ AND TALLY - FIRST 'OFFICIAL'(?) MOZ PHOTO OF 2017 - "SIMILAR ATTIRE"

Dawn continued:

"Perhaps I shall sign up for snap chat?"

Our Mozzer later tweeted, "My debut novel was met with scorn. Will the second one be better received?"

A REVIEW OF LIST OF THE LOST - A SECOND NOVEL ON IT'S WAY?


On my return from seeing The Sherlocks; who incidentally are a very capable live band, I was lured into the toilets of The Arms by OM, who informed me, "there has been a blog post since the 14th of February." I immediately checked the True Morrissey blog, and there was indeed a new post, dated Feb 14th, although it certainly wasn't posted on the 14th, as I have checked the blog daily. I can categorically say that it was posted yesterday evening!

Here is the new piece, entitled Twenty Years of Sorrow

The hateful place run by the hateful face of Tseng reached the milestone of twenty years of false accusations, false news, and dreary threads recounting my relationships with any old b******. Its milestone is the millstone around my neck. Apparently So-Low has been through "several major redesigns" although the last one appears to have been in 1999 I have maintained one iconic image throughout my public existence and I have become a seminal artiste. So-Low will forever be remembered as the place that even Angela Merkel wouldn't accept a refugee from. Approximately 50% of the posts are from Joyce or Joyce-affiliated human dregs.

One only has to look at the illiterate clowns who post on this site. Anonymous commented, Anonymous comments too much I find - they should probably get a job or an illness, "wasn't morrissey taller and skinnier? these shoulders don't look very steven," They use steven, yes steven not Steven, as an adjective. For what were they trying to say? These big shoulders don't look very iconic? Big shoulders they say, well I was carrying the weight of the world and my under appreciated genius even back then.

I wish David Tseng and Uncle Fatty the very worst for the rest of their days.

OM's list of personal hate figures


Weeks

Joyce

Tseng

Joyce

The parents of Joyce

The test-tube of Tseng

Thatcher

Elizabeth the Lizard

Joyce

Sudden illness

Boring Twitter accounts

Dust

Joyce

Dust created by Joyce

Day 2095 - The final curtain

March 3, 2017, 5:46 am

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All articles on the True Morrissey blog have been removed, and the chatroom/lighthouse has gone. In their place is an article entitled, The End is the End, which was published yesterday afternoon at 3.09pm. Here it is:

The End is the End

Sometimes it behoves us to know when to quit. Such time is upon as (sic) now. It has been a tremendous and tumultuous half a decade but it is now that I bid you farewell. There are to be no hysterics and this is not hyperbole but we have reached a nadir where the rewards no longer match the effort. Perhaps we lingered for too long, perhaps too much happened, perhaps too much controversy. I would not change it for the world. Where would I be without you? Where would you be without me? A true marriage of equals we were and always will be.

Thank you for warming my cold heart and freezing my warm brain.

My heartfelt thanks, my true heartfelt thanks, to those who found the time, who took the time, who made the time, for being there. One thanks you immensely. As one last mark of respect to anyone that cares, the twitter accounts will remain open for a brief period for you to pillage whatever you wish for your own personal archive. It is my personal and last wish that FTM should remain open as a memorial of what was and what could have been.

As tears flow from my seminal eyes, I find it necessary to facilitate the boosting of egos. My personal thanks to;

1. The Rat - For he takes everything in his stride and has been with us for as long as I can remember. My thanks, forever.

2. Myself - Well, where would we be otherwise?

3. Broken - For being the sassy queen

4. Dawn - For maintaining a lighthouse when it was not asked of her

5. Julia - For always being everywhere even when it is nowhere

6. Boz - For not understand (sic) why and never asking for an explanation

7. Lizzycat - For everything

8. EARS - For always

9. GOBShite - For most

10. Boozelette - For drinking

11. Heather - Because I care

I am, of course, dreadfully disappointed to learn that our journey has come to an end, but fully understand why Our Mozzer has decided to call it a day. The fact that only five people have bothered to post a comment in reply to this final blog entry of OM's says it all. The five people were; myself, Heather, EARS, Manc Lad and Romina. I'm not sure why poor old Manc Lad didn't get a mention in dispatches, but he certainly wasn't the only one. None of the five people who managed to get a blue rose to Morrissey were mentioned in The End is the End, nor indeed the Blue Rose Society itself. I guess that was only a small part of what this was all about.... what exactly was this all about? And more to the point, how on earth did everyone miss it?

On the subject of the Blue Rose Society, the director of the film Morrissey 25 Live, James Russell, took to twitter yesterday to tweet a picture of the Morrissey 25 Live dvd case and this: "4 yrs ago today we filmed this celebrating his 25yrs as a solo artist. Morrissey. Director. @BlueRoseSociety. @Mozarmy. @JulieHamill." 

The fact that James mentioned the BRS in his tweet shoes that 'he knows', although just to what extent he knows, I doubt we'll ever find out. Did Morrissey tell him? I doubt it. I expect that James was simply astute enough to realise that it wasn't a chance act that Morrissey leant into the crowd during Alma Matters to grab that blue rose.


MORRISSEY GRABS A BLUE ROSE - HOLLYWOOD HIGH MARCH 2ND 2012

The Slightdawnmist blog also posted yesterday at 4.50pm, as follows:

Good Sorrow From The Lighthouse

The lighthouse has shared, spared and cared. 

One would like to thank my creator, and all who sailed aboard, and all those that were bored.

Each seagull has a special place in my misty and musty heart.

Yours,

Dawn
Forever stood, forever should.

Only Harrison, the Strangest Boy has thus far left a comment.

The twitter accounts of Our Mozzer, Dawn Mist and Broken have now been taken down (it really was a brief period - Ed), and although we have had goodbyes before, this time it really does feel as though it is for real. Funnily enough, I had spent time yesterday morning, republishing all the FTM articles that I had taken down a couple of months ago. I shall, of course, now leave them all in situ as requested.

Mademoiselle Fifi also took to twitter on Wednesday to play me a song, L'amitié (The Friendship) by Françoise Hardy. Fifi didn't add anything else. I have no idea if this was a goodbye or not, but think it probably was.



If this is to be the end of our remarkable journey, then thank you from me to all those who bothered to read and comment on FTM over the past 5 and a half years. Feel free to read through my many entries at your leisure. This blog is full of some great memories.

A final thank you to Morrissey for coming amongst us. The pleasure, the privilege was all ours.

It only seems right that I should sign off with Morrissey singing the BRS theme tune, Trouble Loves Me, whilst wearing a blue rose. What a ride this has been!