IRELAND MOURNS...
Holy Christ, what is WRONG with this world? Rory Gallagher dies, not front page news. Gerry Rafferty leaves us, footnote. Gary Moore shuffles off to the Great Gig in the Sky, barely a mention. But five snotty, talentless gits from Ireland decide that finally, after fourteen years (twelve, according to Louis Walsh, but who can believe anything he says?) they've had enough of ripping off teenage girls by basically recycling the same songs over and over, have made fat enough piles of cash to be able to “spend time with their families” --- yeah, right: expect solo albums aplenty soon! --- and the whole country starts wearing black! It's HEADLINE news on most of the Irish newspapers. Yeah, I said HEADLINE news! Never mind the death of Gaddaffi, we have the split of Westlife!
No doubt there'll be a sharp rise in the suicide or attempted suicide rate among distraught teenage girls in Ireland and elsewhere, oh and watch for the “reunion tour” in about, what, five years? Before that? Get down to Paddy Power now and place a bet, take my advice. Could be a nice little earner!
Wise up, people! It's a band (using the word in its loosest form) breaking up. It's not the end of the world. Or is it? Perhaps this is --- yes, yes! It all fits! One of the great catastrophes said to presage the end of the world in 2012. A humanitarian disaster on an unprecedented scale. Why didn't I think of that? Here I was, thinking earthquake, famine, tsunami, war, when I should have been considering the global effect the breakup of these guys would have on the world! Of course! It has to be true.
Teenagers all over the world begin jumping off cliffs, the music industry implodes and shortly afterwards takes with it the whole of Western society, while certain people who shall remain nameless grin and say that this is proof they were right: that music IS evil and should have been outlawed, look at the damage it is causing, the lives it is taking. Relations between East and West (YOU know who I mean!) deteriorate, the world slips towards the inevitable precipice...
I'm just thankful I have my seat booked on Virgin Galactic's Earth Evacuation flight on December 2012. What? You thought those were to be
pleasure trips? People are going to pay $200,000 a SEAT to go into space for no reason and come back a little while later? You thought --- Oh, yes, sorry, of course. THAT's what they ARE doing, yes. Forget you heard anything about a planned escape by the rich and influential from this planet before the Big Day. Nothing of the sort: where did you hear that? Silly. Of course Branson would not be involved in such a thing! A mega-rich tycoon, saving the richest people on Earth from --- come on! Does that even SOUND possible?
Well, must go. Lots to do before the Big One --- er, before the --- er, before nothing at all, actually. Nothing going to happen. All rumour. Now where did I put that ticket? WHERE? WHERE!! I CAN'T FIND ---- Oh, there it is! Phew! Nearly gave myself a heart attack there. What ticket? Oh, nothing, nothing. The safe combination is.... there we go, safe and sound.
That's all. Run along now, nothing to see here. Any intimations of collusion on behalf of Virgin Galactic with the evacuation of the Earth will be met by the very strongest legal response. Sorry? No, I have no comment. Sorry. No. NO. NONE. Please get out of my way. Thank you.
Note: Trollheart wishes it to be understood that, should he suddenly disappear from the planet on the aforementioned date, this is entirely coincidental and does not add any credibility to the scurrilous rumours being circulated at this time.