“Lyrics which are merely bad are not my concern here. I’m interested in words which, upon hearing them for the first time, or the first time in ages, evoke a ‘What the hell did they just say?’ response.” Robert Morse theorizes on the the origins of the absolute worst song lyrics.
“It was Malachi Constant and the Tralfamadorian Salo! I moved closer to get a better look. Salo had three legs as Vonnegut had described, but I was too far away to confirm that he had three eyes.” A Mythic Indy story by Robert Morse.
“The Wanderers is one of those rare gems, a movie superior to the book it is based on.” Robert Morse is in the know–and now you are, too.
“When politicians, pollsters, and experts (self-proclaimed or otherwise) speak about the populace in general, there is no consensus as to what to call us. Their choices are either annoying or downright insulting.” Robert Morse has ideas.
“Rather than traveling to New York to get their Artistic Integrity trampled on, playwrights can simply check out their local community theatre. Those who have tend to view the film Waiting for Guffman not only as a hilarious satire, but as a cautionary tale.” Robert Morse knows from trampling.
“I also learned that Franklin Pierce was the only President to have no changes in his cabinet although I was clueless as to what that meant. Kitchen cabinet perhaps?” Robert Morse gets an early lesson in American History.
“If you will hold one moment, sir, I will transfer you to our Quaker Specialist. If she doesn’t pick up, feel free to leave her a message.” It’s what Robert Morse should have said.
“By the song’s end, after Bruce revisits the failure of the Katrina response and asks a litany of hard questions, it seems that ‘Every Man for Himself’ might be a more realistic motto.” Robert Morse surveys the Boss’s new album Wrecking Ball.
“I caught the ball! I made the correct throw! Do you want me to be a mind reader too?”