Sting a bit too smart for you?
Let’s face it: Sting must be stopped. Imagine the societal damage a man of such fame and influence capable of if allowed to freely include literary references in his popular music. We can’t do much about his past hit songs BUT we should not allow him to continue. It is very possible someone listening may hear a reference, wonder about it, google it, and learn that it’s from a Shakespearean play. You know where that could lead? The person might actually read the play or see the play and start thinking rather than watching some mind-numbing reality series. We certainly don’t want to instigate thought. That’d be dangerous. Imagine how scary a nation full of thinkers could be. Ohhhh, I know that sends chills down your spine.
I personally always admired Sting for his keen ability to paint mental scenery with lyrics that weave literary references together with natural imagery. What results more often than not – granted not every song falls into this category - is what I always considered an intellectual poem set to music. Maybe that’s why I fancy him. However, I’ve noticed this nasty trend of negatively labeling a clear form of intellectualism. Be smart: get picked on. It’s typical schoolyard mentality. The smart kid always get teased. Read books for fun, and the world labels you a weirdo. Tell your officemates that you don’t watch tv, except news, and be prepared to receive some very disturbed looks in response. If you really want to push your luck, tell them you prefer to read non-fiction about complicated political issues like the ongoing situation in the
Sounds like the wingding at the music magazine can’t sort Sting’s lyrics out so let’s rag on him. Is he too smart for you? Too deep, cultural, literary? If so, leave him alone and go watch Desperate Housewives or The Bachelor which is probably more your speed and will give you ample chat material for those mindless office gatherings around the water cooler where people stand around wasting their days talking about nothing for at least 30 hours per work week collectively. Perhaps the author should stick with today’s hiphop as it doesn’t require much more than a 1st grade ghetto vocabulary coupled with basic knowledge of sexual terminology so eloquently described through those oh-so-respectful and classy terms for parts of a woman’s body.





























Can people get this?
Perhaps there is always a message in the bottle left by an alien in NY who likes desert roses.
If you cannot get this, watch NASCAR instead.