[jetengine]

Originally Posted by uhler

she sounds like a piece of shit.

This has to be seen to be believed. I think I now know why Dear ol' Mojo Risin ran off to Paris with junkie Pam Courson, numerous faults and all. I'm surprised he didn't commit suicide, being stuck between such repellant personalities.

From Patricia Kennealy's MySpace site:

Patricia Kennealy Morrison's Interests General60's rock bands; 60's clothes (mostly British designers): Biba, Annabelinda, Alice Pollock, Gina Fratini, Annacat, Ossie Clark, early Betsey Johnson (her stuff for Paraphernalia), Zandra Rhodes's more restrained creations; antique jewelry; King Arthur; Arthurian legends; Asatru; Atlantis; Avalon Ballroom; big-wave surfing (watching, not doing; Laird Hamilton is amazing, and, perhaps, insane); Bruce Abbott (actor and friend); Cathars; Celts; Celtic legends; Celtic music; Celtic mythology; Celtic Paganism; Celtic studies; Celtic languages; Celtic art; Celtic jewelry; England; English history; the god Dionysos; fantasy novels and novelists; the Fillmore Auditorium; the Fillmore West; the Fillmore East; Harpur College; hippies; the Holy Grail; the House of York; the House of Lancaster; Ireland; Irish history; Irish jewelry; Irish wolfhounds; Irish setters; Persian and Himalayan cats; Frisian and Arabian horses;
JIM MORRISON (artist-hero and husband);
John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster; Kathleen Quinlan (actress and friend); the Knights Templar; Mary Magdalene; Maxfield Parrish; the New York Mets; Ossie Clark; Paganism; Phyllis Curott (Witch and friend); Margot Adler (Witch and friend); the Picts; the Plantagenets; plate tectonics; Princess Diana; Raimon-Roger de Trencavel; Rennes-le-Chateau; King Richard III; Rosslyn Chapel; Scotland; Scottish history; St. Bonaventure University; Summer of Love; swords (I have seven, I believe, several of them extremely functional) and other edged weaponry; tattoos (seven of those as well, one or two never to be seen by anyone but me, Jim and the tattooist); Thomas Canty (brilliant artist of many of my Keltiad book jackets); Trader Joe's; tsunamis and earthquakes (sometimes I can sense those e-things coming...); the Tudors, and related families like the Boleyns, the Howards and the Seymours; the Vikings (the historical ones, not the football team, and especially the ones who invaded England in the 9th century); Wales; Welsh history; Whisky A Go Go; Wicca; Winterland; witchcraft

LOVE: chocolate (dark and with something raspberry going on, and See's dark chocolate Bordeaux, my ultimate choc of choice); dim sum (char siu bao, har gow, anything shrimpy and deep-fried); bacon-wrapped hot dogs; Packham pears; Louis Vuitton (in my youth I thought LV was the mark of the bourgeois beast, and yet I was strangely drawn, especially after Jim gave me my first Vuitton bag; when I found out Louis was a Victorian and had started out in the 19th century, I suddenly understood the attraction); jewelry (preferably antique but not necessarily; I design a lot of my own pieces, and make my own bead necklaces); books (and I have to like the characters' names before I take the books home, and I have to read them cover to cover, usually within hours, before I can shelve them); Jacobean carved black oak furniture (all my furniture is this, and I have to introduce each new piece to the incumbents when I bring it home, and if the other pieces don't get along with it then I get rid of it, yes I know I'm insane...); long-haired men (and men with beards) (and men with long hair AND beards) (hmmm, wonder where THAT comes from...); Crunch gym (two years ago I would have laughed until I choked if you'd told me I'd become a gym rat at my age, or any age, for that matter); peonies (my absolute faves), lilacs (a close second), hyacinths, big shaggy bronze chrysanthemums (white roses are good too, except roses don't smell anymore---I understand they're breeding the scent back in. The stupid stupidhead eejits, why bother breeding it out in the first place, roses are supposed to smell like roses); little boxes (in any material, wood, leather, ceramic, stone, etc.) (it's the Virgo rising...); cool shoulder bags (ditto with the Virgo); luggage (double ditto); fur (I have four coats, three or four big long scarves, a bedspread, collars and headbands and trim and stuff, and I don't care if you hate me for it; if minks tasted good I'd eat minkburgers, and none of the mink is wasted, so ecologically sound---their little dead mink bodies go into pet food, fertilizer, all sorts of places, so I daresay you're all "guilty", unless you're some kind of pure holy vegan freak in which case I say it sure must be nice to be a perfected saint on earth).

HATE: nuts; yogurt (absolutely disgusting); coffee (love the way it smells, esp. being ground, hate the way it tastes); vegetables (except potatoes and corn, which I consider honorary meat; tomatoes only okay as sauce or puree or paste; and I will eat some Chinese veggies like black mushrooms, snow peas, bok choy and water chestnuts; for the most part, vegetables are what my food eats); sun; sand; beaches; summer; Indian food; Thai food; Mexican food; Greek food; Vietnamese food; any kind of Middle Eastern or North African or African food; gum and the bovine low-class people who chew it (in fact, I throw up a little in my mouth at even having to type the g-word, and I will not allow substance or chewers in my presence); jazz; most blues; hip-hop and rap (see Music below); contemporary pop (and the plastic poptarts of both sexes who "sing" it; pretentious modern "lit'ry" authors (who write only for each precious little other, in a kind of giant circle jerk; I'd sooner read an honest "beach book" any day); pre-sliced and individually-plastic-wrapped American "cheese" (though the kind you buy at the deli or the butcher's is dee-lish; I like it sliced so thin you can barely pick it up); rudeness; injustice; pretentiousness; condescension; willful ignorance; tiresome smug adolescents who have absolutely nothing to be smug about; vampires; vampire groupies; vampyre goth teen wannabes oh puh-leeeeze; practical jokes (they're mean and cruel and not in the least bit funny); that's all I can think of at the moment, doubtless more later...

As I'm sure you've noticed by now, I am basically a woman of wrath, endlessly outraged, sustained by an endlessly replenished hot spot of magma-like fury, like the one that built the Hawaiian Islands or fueled H.L. Mencken. I find it helpful, useful, creatively stimulating and oddly serenity-making. Better than yoga! Or drugs! highlightInterests("ProfileGeneral");MusicDuh! The Doors; Jefferson Airplane; Cream; Quicksilver Messenger Service; Crosby Stills & Nash(and Young); Big Brother & The Holding Company (but not most of Janis's later work, I found it too contrived and staged, which it was---after BB&THC she never sang an unplanned note in her life; even when recording, every take was identical, drove her producer crazy); Stones (pre-"Exile on Main Street", because I'm the worst rock snob you ever saw); Ventures; Beau Brummels; Beatles, yeah, okay; earlier Jethro Tull; almost any Sixties group except the Beach Boys, whom I utterly detest (big arguments with Jim about that); Renaissance dance music; Renaissance brass; morris dance music; Celtic stuff; Altan; Alan Stivell; Loreena McKennitt; Steeleye Span (friends of mine since 1972); Bach; Beethoven; some Mahler; early fugues; some opera; nothing after 1975 or so (a few exceptions, but not a lot, as my iPod will attest).

And nobody but Brits and Americans should be allowed to play rock and roll. Legally. There should be penalties and fines, in fact. So everybody else, just back off.

What recent stuff do I like? One-offs, mostly, though I do have some Dead Can Dance, Lisa Gerrard and Loreena McKennitt entire albums: Joshua Radin, "Closer"; couple of Dixie Chicks songs; Joe Purdy, "Wash Away"; Susan Enan, "Bring On the Wonder"; Nickel Creek, "When In Rome"; Pearl Jam, "I Am Mine" (FABULOUS, yet it's the only Pearl Jam song I like); some Tom Petty; that's about it.

Hip-hop and rap are, in my opinion, not music. They may be valid forms of self-expression, but music? No. Music has certain characteristics that are utterly, voidly absent in rap: melody, harmony, counterpoint, structure, lyricness, a sense of separate parts moving harmoniously and exaltingly as a whole, to the joy and edification of both hearer and player.

(Don't take it personally, rappers. I don't consider the work of many modern "classical" composers to be music either. John Cage, Karl-Heinz Stockhausen, Philip Glass can all bite me...)

What rap does have: no instrumental artistry (because no instruments...and no artists either), troglodytic rhythms, no creativity, appalling "lyrics", appalling sentiments, little talent that I would personally consider to be talent, boring format and patterns, mindless monotonous presentation...

I could go on and on, but I won't, since it gives me the pip to even think about it. When I do think about it, I think rap is a detestable, misogynistic, racist travesty of art, and does much to reinforce negative stereotypes in and of both blacks and whites.

Give me the rock of my youth any day. We had brains then, as well as music written and performed by people who also had brains. Plus mighty musicianly gifts, staggering talent, gorgeous and meaningful lyrics, great artistry, highly developed social/political consciences and hotness off the Richter scale. What more could you want?

(Part 1)