hofmann@AMSAA.ARPA (08/14/85)
From: Jim Hofmann <hofmann@AMSAA.ARPA> Hi Roy Man from GaTeck, lowly brother to VaTeck.... > Hi Jim, thanks for giving me some much-needed laughs! What? Someone setting you straight is funny? You must really get off on heavy abuse, eh?? > Let's see, where to start? Let's start with War of the Worlds. Yours truly went down to the old Towson library last night. Yes, punk lovers do frequent these places, Roy me Boy. And what is sitting there? There, among the piles of other worthless junk but a copy of WAR OF THE WORLDS. Yipeeeee!!! I can now go home and report to you and all the exact specifics of why I hate this over-prentious, self-indulgent tripe which probably ranks with Donna Summer's "Toot-Toot, Beep-Beep" as Roy's favorite recording from 1979. The needle aproaches the groove ... slowly ... too slow for reality. Screaming, I tear towards the record-changer. Crying out wildly, "STOP STOP, I already know this is garbage!!!!." BUT IT IS TOO LATE. The first sounds I hear is this orchestra ( orchestra?!?!?! what the hell is that doing here??? I dont wanna hear no orchestara { you can insert your flamage here, Roy ... like oh gosh you mean you don't like strings?? FUCK NO!!!! I want loud blaring obnoxious noize ITSWHATIWANT!!!} Then these whizz=bango effects stolen straight from the Beatles pervades my living room. My cat and dog go running out. Obviously, they have more sense than you, Roy-Man. Then IT starts. Richard (yecchhhh) Burton. You hated him in Eqquess, you despised him as the pyschic in the disgusting movie of which I have mercifully forgot the name, and worse off he drecks 1984, an already awful movie ( more so because of the loss of Eurythmics soundtrack) with his bland and brooding personna. I'm sorry he's dead, but what the heck. I think about it and I realize that he is the perfect narrator for this garbage. I mean certainly he embodies all the self-prentiousness and self-rightousness and self-indulgence of the late 70's if no one else can ( Maybe fellow Englishman, David Bowie ) Then Richard informs me about the Invasion and I am immediately bored. Fingering my Enigma Variations tape, I seriously consider popping in "A Blind Man's Penis" in lieu of this TuRash but in order to prove I am not a mucus snob, I continue. More sound effects. Then some more sound effects. Then this disco soundtrack with a very bad guitar playing. I assume this is your Moody Blues here, Roy-man? Huh? It's too bad Graham isn't around to doctor up the tape. When will it ever stop???? Finally, it gets near the end where we have this great big battle score. BORING, I say but I'll listen on. Oh yeh, there wuz this sappy crappy love song in between all of this. Sort of put in cause I guess JEff Wayne probably wrote it long ago for a college sweetheart and didn't know what else to do with it. Certainly, it doesn't forward the story. Then there's this grand finale with lots of gee-whiz sound effects and Richard Burton comes back to wrap up every thing in a preachy, scummy sort of way. Mercifully, it comes to end. But I think I might be dead. Then a roach runs across the floor and I cheer in excitement. It was certainly much more meaningful than War of the Worlds. Afterwards, I wonder what significance this all had. And I realize, that this was basically a failure effort designed to wow out nerds. Sort of like Styx and Journey and Asia. Who really wins the war though??? The SEX PiStOLS who go down in infamy for swindling the world with their trash that makes people think. Or War of the Worlds which doesn't do too well except with the 14-year-old mentality crowd but still manges a good swindle. But while the Sex Pistols hold no pretentions, Jeff Wayne through his over- indulgence proves that he really doesn't care about making anything but package of sound effects, a couple bucks, and a chance to sleep with Liz Taylor's former husband. Take it Light, Roy-Man Jim-Boy