Sentimental Pop Songs

This is about songs I heard on the radio in the 1970s, as well as samesuch from the Eighties I discovered on YouTube in recent years. Viewers on YouTube share my enthusiasm for those kinds of songs, from that time and place. Representative comments that I’m translating into English:

“Anyone listening in 2020?”

“Everything today stinks in comparison. The five-minute celebrities, the actors with no acting school, the silicone tits, all the rest of that television trash.”

“One has to grow up to get this tune. I’ve heard that song all my life but it’s only now, at forty, that I consider it a gem. That’s because you have to have experienced life to understand it.”

“my god, i am 30 years younger”

“The majority of the songs that were recorded back during the People’s Republic have one thing in common. They are perfectly crafted. The arrangement is excellent, no instrument is too much or too little, and so they are (also because of their lovely melodies and performance) truly pleasant to the ear. They connect with the listener. In layman’s language, they are beautiful.”

“I’m almost 60, as a kid I was a fan of the Beatles. They were quite good. With time though, as many years have passed, I’ve come to know the value of our artists.”

“God I love Poland and the Polish language!”

Four such songs. There are so many more, but I limited myself to just these:

Sidewalk Cafes (Irena Jarocka; orig. Kawiarenki). Vocals like honey in this 1975 ballad. Wistful, mellifluous, the sounds melt into synesthesia bliss. Irena Jarocka, the singer, died of brain cancer in her sixties, about ten years ago. She lived the final decade of her life in the United States, continuing to perform here and in Europe. She sang at the Pulaski Day Parade in New York City twenty years ago. Bummer, I was going to go but didn’t.

Two Hearts Like Two Trains (Grażyna Świtała; orig. Dwa serca jak pociągi dwa). Dan Baird’s 1992 song “I Love You Period” is the happiest song of that decade, the happiest video too. Bad feelz impossible after watching. The trope is school-theme lyrics standing in for the teenager’s crush on someone. “Two Hearts Like Two Trains” is a 1987 song with the same idea. My favorite part is the refrain with its buoyantly galloping 4/4 beat like a cowboy song:

Two trains like two hearts set out
From town B to town A
And from town A to town B
I must determine where they meet.

I know their speed, their distance too
I know the cold sweat on my face
Upon the mention of towns A and B
And the professor’s evil eye.

I’ve Been with You so Many Years (Krystyna Giżowska; orig. Przeżyłam z Tobą tyle lat). An adult-themed pop song from the point of view of a woman whose long marriage has been the stuff of normal life. Its ups and downs with its better and worse times. The 1987 song is a reflection on all of it with a peaceful heart.

I’ve been with you so many years
I gave you my whole world …
… Look, our children are all grown up
And only you and I
Haven’t changed at all

The White Sail on the Horizon (Alicja Majewska; orig. Jeszcze się tam żagiel bieli). The 1980 song’s very first notes have you anticipate something cathartic. It’s the xylophone intro hinting to what will, in the latter half of the song, build up to a powerful refrain. The tension grows along a gentle grade, Majewska’s whispers grow in their intensity.

I am not a fan of big-voice female vocalists but she lets the power of the song build on its own with its theme of great hope. The lyrics celebrate woman’s faith in her man, along with her virtues of patience, forbearance, and unshaken faith in her man’s homecoming. It could also be about a mother waiting for her son’s safe return. Partial lyrics:

The white sail on the horizon
Of the boys who sailed away
Persistent hope plays the silent drum
In the chapel of the heart

Because it’s man’s business
To be far, but a woman’s – to wait faithfully
Until another tear is born
Beneath the eyelid, a tear of joy

It’s man’s business – to run and tame
The crests of the waves
Our business – to stand at the shore
Stand and believe, and gaze into the distance

Open thread, bonus if you can tie a sentimental pop song to your story.

92 thoughts on “Sentimental Pop Songs

  1. Sentimental is circumstantial. The first slow dance I ever had was, uh … Comfortably Numb? I wouldn’t call that a sentimental song, although it piques my personal sentiment.

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  3. PA, that meme is hilarious!

    INDY, I saw PA’s meme prior to the video so the video already put me in a humorous mode. Video was just as hilarious. Not sure who was in the casket, but here’s to St. Trayvon just the same.

  4. That twitter video Indy posted gave me a genuine belly laugh. I had to watch it a few times just to see if it was as funny as I thought it was. Yep, still funny.

  5. hahaha….had to watch it a few more times. The screaming lady in the tan boots adds the proper sound effect to it all because her cries escalate with the action. When the guy gets body slammed on the hood of the car, her scream follows suit, along with her reaction. When he lands, accompanied by a thud, for a split second she steps back ever so slightly, stops all the gesturing she’d been doing up to that point and after the thud, goes back to the histrionics. Her arms are outstretched which just adds to it all.

    I can’t tell if the two Whites that show up at the end are there to prevent things from escalating much further or if they’re part of the rabble.

  6. I’m analyzing this thing like it’s the Zapruder film. The dude that got body slammed on the hood: was he inside the hearse? I cannot figure out from where he originates because he’s not part of the initial melee. It seems like he was inside and the guy that opens up the hearse grabs him and then slams him.

    I’m gonna set the audio from this as my ringtone. . .

  7. Lol.

    It’s Brooklyn. I’m familiar with this subspecies.

    The dead guy came from the hearse. Family probably couldn’t afford a casket. Homeboy gave him damn near the ultimate disrespect – flung him on the hood and rumpled that fine burial perm. He could’ve gone next level by stripping the man of his sneakers and denying him kicks for the afterlife but surely you understand, for the heat of the moment.

    In the closing seconds, the pastor covers his mouth and a baby wails.

    Zapruder film, indeed. I’ll wait for the long cut.

  8. Please. Close your eyes and imagine; it’s the manosphere circa 2010 … and I have a question.

    There’s a move that females do, and it is this. They act as if you are eye-raping (them).

    What they do, is when you happen to eye-contact them, is grab the hem of their blouse shirt thing and pull it down past what might would be its panty line position, as if to deprive your hungry eyes of the dubious pleasure of making out the shape of their area. That’s my honest best simple straightforward description of this behavior, and which I am not “making up” and nor suffering from delusional thought processes thing where you always see exactly what you think you’re gonna, ie find what you seek.

    I have seen this behavior, this move from women with whom I have eye-contacted, maybe 10 THOUSAND times, over the last 20 years. That’s what, 500 per year, once or twice a day iow about right.

    This part of the post is interpretation on it, and so subjective. My take is that I think they are calling a subroutine wherein with which they get to pretend that you are out to get them, and but with this subroutine they get to symbolically reject your advances and attention.

    It got to the point, in my own frustrated life somewhere around Incident Number = 7500, where I altered my behavior to avoid giving them a reason to do that, which means pretty much not looking at them, and “them” meaning women in public with whom you have no acquaintance.

    I find that it still occurs though, if whenever I let down my guard even a fraction, and pay any attention.

    So like I said: Manosphere 1.5 — what’s it all about?

  9. Open thread, bonus if you can tie a sentimental pop song to your story.

    Love never came true for me and as a rule, those popular songs from that era, are about young love finding its mark.

    PA, will you please close the missed italics tag on my previous comment? —

    “I have seen this behavior, this move from women”

  10. Zeppelin, The Who, and Pink Floyd was the music I listened to the most at that crucial stage of life, young adulthood, young manhood whatever, age 18 to 24 or so.

    Zeppelin and their style of escapist fantasy themed metal, or whatever it is to be called, by the 80s and 90s had become a MAJOR SOURCE of EMBARRASSMENT, to the more with-it cool people especially in Britain but in the States too. Zeppelin and their fans were regarded as childishly ridiculous. All the better more advanced hipster people would scoff at that stuff as being for dunderheads.

  11. One of the greatest sentimental rock/pop albums ever is The Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society, released in 1968. It is a lament for a Britain that has already ceased to exist. Much ink has already been spilled regarding this record. I’ll just post a couple of songs. Interested parties can dig deeper.

  12. One of my best friends is Serbian. He was born in the USA in 1979, but his parents emigrated from Belgrade in 1977.

    I recently had a conversation with him where he assumed Poland was one of the poorest and most backward countries in the former USSR. In fact, the opposite is true. Western Poland is basically German infrastructure at 1/5 the price. And there is plenty of Eastern Poland that maintains the same standards.

    But Serbians are mostly the little brothers of Russians. And Poland and Russia have been at odds for many years, for many reasons.

    But it is possible that the two could get along. The upthread meme reminds me of Italy. Nobody hates Italians more than an Italian from the next village over. But when the Italian National soccer team (Forza Azzurri!) is playing against a country like Germany or England, there is no one more united than fellow Italians, throughout every region in Italy!

  13. Great suggestions on the Kinks, Lothar. They are certainly relevant today, more so than they woulda guessed, perhaps..

    Open thread, bonus if you can tie a sentimental pop song to your story.

    Bron-Y-Aur Stomp, off of Led Zeppelin III. It’s not a sentimental pop song but rather a virtuoso instrumental with vocals, about walking down a country lane with a blue-eyed girl, which girl it turns out is a dog named Shep.

    The best version of that song if the studio version, though, for better and or worse.

  14. Indy, posting videos showing blacks with the self awareness to mock their own kind, while we have legions of humorless, deadly-self-serious Israel-fellating evangelicals and other self-destructive religious fanatics within our own culture doesn’t exactly help our narrative.

    Then again, maybe in the long run it does.

  15. Thank you for the compliment, Elk. Your words are a pleasure to read, as always.

    Another great sentimental rock group from the late 60s and early 70s was Memphis, TN’s own Big Star. When I first visited Memphis in 2012, I made sure to visit the intersection where Chris Bell was killed. I was also lucky enough to talk to Alex Chilton when he checked into the hotel in where I worked around 2008. He gave me two tickets to his performance in that city. This was around the same time I saw Roky Erickson in the same venue. What a great time that was.

    IIRC, Big Star were an outsized influence on Minneapolis’ own Paul Westerberg and The Replacements..

  16. Finally found my sentimental song, despite the fact I occassionaly listen to it at least once or twice a week.

    it’s Don’t Dream it’s Over by Crowded House. I had liked it when it came out but where it shone the brightest and most meaningful for me was during 3rd grade. I was at a female classmate’s birthday party at a local pizza place with the usual arcade games, skeeball, ball pit, etc. I had an on-again/off-again crush with her but never did anything with it. (I would eventually graduate with her, though by high school I never had much interaction with her.) I knew she liked me (her sister told me as such) but at that every young age I was beyond a goober; uber goober.

    Still, every time I hear that song it transports me back to that moment and even the house we were leaving in as a family at that time because I was telling my father what I was doing. Sans the girl, though, as I was too into the games.

    Years later I found an extended version that is well done. The intro adds a nice touch to it.

  17. Just got in from my relocation scouting trip. As some of you may recall, I was between Redtown and Purpletown, and not certain that either was the solution. Well, after scouting not only these two towns but three others (just to keep an open mind), I have a few notes for those who are interested.

    I followed PA’s advice and took a lot of time to stop in the local shops and see what the staff were like. This was immensely valuable. Not even street level recce is sufficient–you must get eyes and ears.

    Redtown redeemed itself as White as can be found in my area. It was working class, with a little wealth injected by the small number of professionals and the contingent of White retirees. It felt a little quaint in an unsophisticated way, and I felt a DNA-level connection to the White people who served our tables, sold us our gas, and rented out our AirBnB. Yes, there’s a slight disconnect due to the low levels of education, but that was ameliorated by the 0% pretentiousness level of the denizens. I am drawn, strongly, by the peacefulness of this town not yet surrendered to POZ.

    Purpletown felt much more urban even though its official population is about the same, around 50k. Thing is, it’s the regional business “hub” and actually has a downtown that feels modern, and you’d never guess it’s downtown to such a small city. More tourist dollars flow into it. It’s just pozzed enough to have a Whole Foods. And a painted “street art” crosswalk. My wife loved the whimsy of it, but I had to remind her that this kind of “art” happens only where fairies have too much influence. At the same time, it was refreshing to see that almost everybody was White wherever we went. Mind you, the blue hairs were there, who were absent in Redtown. In Purpletown there are also more browns and blacks, but not more than 10% in any particular zipcode.

    At the end of the day, I prefer Redtown about 65-35, and my wife, who likes shiny things and is pollyannish regarding the danger muds pose, is 60-40 Purpletown.

    I appreciate your feedback, friends.

  18. How far is Redtown from Purpletown? I bring this up because if the distance ain’t too bad, say 20-30 miles, then you can live in Redtown and visit Purpletown when you need that whimsy.

    As I read your field report (in current year, field reports are about finding a good place to live. . .kekekek), one thing I thought about was how will these places change/adapt in the next 20, 30 years. Redtown seems like it won’t change too much thanks to the folk that live there, whereas Purpletown sounds like it’d be quicker to change and change in the wrong ways.

    Redtown sounds cool and given the last time you commented about this, I realized what you were getting at, that might be a good place to call home.

  19. Zero 7, ‘In the Waiting Line.’

    I heard an extended flamenco version once in Chile. Made me think of Zeno and his paradoxes: the true purpose of all sentimental pop; confectionary pessimism. Looking for Zeno paraphernalia soon after in a nearby book/record shop, I was directed instead to ‘Zeno’s Conscience’ (Italo Svevo). That’s also full of impressions that bring me back, with some palatable brooding, to Zero 7’s ‘Waiting Line.’

  20. This video starts out really slow, about the elections in Ireland (of all places) but then moves on to the very forward edge. It concludes that we have to address include and appeal to, Greta and her cohort —

  21. What’s the better deal on real estate, Redtown versus Purple?

    I would want to buy a place where one could hopefully not have to move, in 10 or 20 years, or ever. And not have to move, for reasons of demographics problems; or for having overbought.

    Women will generally want to buy as much house as they can stretch their income around. But the economy in the future may not be as stable as it seems current year. I think we are going to contract hugely, within the next ten years. Otoh they have been saying that forever.

  22. It doesn’t get any easier, in the 2nd half of life, to up and relocate. Roger Scruton makes the point in his videos, that is incumbent upon the bearer to create his own environment in which he can grow old with some peace and quiet.

    I think a lot of people hold on to the idea of doing something toward this end, but never make it happen and then it becomes too late.

  23. @mendo you hit the nail on the head, brother. Everything you said, including the keks re: “field report.” Purpletown is indeed close enough that we could make the trip without much difficulty. My heart is really with Redtown. I’m so tired of “it” places, cities that are “happening.” Just want a quiet neighborhood with neighbors like me. It’s a shame housing prices have skyrocketed compared to incomes over the past few decades :-/ I’m waiting for the next market crash before I buy again. Meanwhile, I work to pay another’s mortgage.

  24. You can look at the menu but you just can’t eat
    You can feel the cushions but you can’t have a seat
    You can dip your foot in the pool but you can’t have a swim

    Yes, these lyrics were real. And what’s worse, they were the opening to the song. File under: teenagers can stomach a lot of schmaltz.

    Having a re-listen just now, it’s a well enough crafted pop song, but those lyrics omg. That album was a HUGE hit.

    Howard Jones, No One Is To Blame, mid-80s

  25. That’s good piano playing on Barbara Cook’s song, whoever she is. Howard Jones, his electric piano also was good, “professional” level. Whatever else you might say about those doofuses, many of them had talent. Howard Jones is a masters class in the 80s.

    He is also a good example of the stylishness that the with-it, and not exactly alternative, crowd, was into. Those who were not going to be listening to Zeppelin on the one hand, or Hank Williams Junior on the other, and nor Motley Crue neither.


    Wings of Pegasus is a good YouTube channel. He is gen x of the old school and his takes on music videos and musicianship are reliably insightful and informative.

  26. My third comment in this series, is a pointed criticism of Myth of the 20th Century, which is a well known and reputable podcast. They are totally our guys, and they are smarties one and all BUT.

    Their show has totally jumped the shark. Their latest episode was on the Oscars, and the first 40 minutes (of their podcast) was simply them spouting off movies from the past that they liked. No meta criticism, no larger social themes, zero nada zip zilch goose egg.

    The other problem and even more grating, and in addition to the technical productions problems which they can’t seem to transcend, is that their group chemistry doesn’t flow. It’s constantly someone jumping in and stepping on someone else who was in the middle of saying maybe almost interesting. Total trainwreck. Sad; many such cases!

  27. @peterike that song was sentimental even before the singing kicked in. The pianist just KISSES (elk, please teach us how to bold and italicize so I don’t have to use all caps) those keys. Somber, sober words accompany.

  28. Another takeaway from my trip that should be meaningful to you all:

    When I arrived “home” to MEGACITY#4, I mean my current sh!thole metropolis, after visiting the beautiful White breaths of air that were Red and Purple towns, I found I was no longer bothered by the POZ. I mean, it still disgusts me on both visceral and cerebral levels, but now it’s different.

    I no longer feel trapped in this cage stuffed with simians and ewoks. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now that I know there is a promised land to which I should soon be moving, I wear an armor that protects me from the barbs of the sin city devils. When we pulled in the driveway, I turned to my wife and said “Welcome back to your future former home.” She beamed.

    The takeaway is: keep your heads up, gents. We don’t have to live like this.

  29. OT: PA, had an idea for you to write about, if you feel it’s appropriate. What are your thoughts on the not-quite affair? By this I mean those moments when married men meet women who knock us off our feet and test our resolves to remain faithful to our wives. I don’t mean pure chasing or relinquishing of tail, I mean when you make an emotional connection with a woman, and you’re both really attracted to one another, and she is willing, and you must decide whether to tread the path of honor or dishonor.

    Would be grateful to read your thoughts. I assume you’ve been there and I trust you have some wisdom regarding the subject.

  30. It would be fun as hell to do a long no-filter Platonic Eros post. It would arrive at a simple point: don’t do it.

    By synchronicity, Sinatra’s boast-song “It was a very good year” just came on. It did not age well.

  31. I’ll have to listen to “…very good year” soon. It had a special place for my father, so maybe it’s a song that appeals to boomers and younger.

    But you got me thinking about Sinatra. I enjoy most of his songs, if only because of the big band quality they had. Back when instruments were still played and there was damn near always an orchestration to accompany the vocals.

    Anywho, the film, Joker, features That’s Life prominently, especially at the end. Well, not prominently, I think it only plays two or three times, but how it ends with it is what captures the moment. A few weeks after seeing the movie, I fired that song up on YT and was amazed at all the comments that were making callbacks to the movie, with one comment cementing it: if not for that film, most kids, let’s say some smelly millennials and GenZ wouldn’t know of Sinatra. (Same for 80s songs: kids know about some of those tunes from playing Grand Theft Auto.)

    Another Sinatra tune, Summer Breeze. I was first introduced to that song via The Simpsons. Plays at the end of an episode, with the nerd, Martin, getting his trunks pulled down, as the kids leave his busted pool and he starts to sing that song. When I fired up that song on YT, sure enough, some comments referenced that part and even dialog was added.

  32. ““…boomers and older“.”

    My brother-in-law’s [my sister’s husband’s] father is in his late eighties, a retired man of accomplishment. I never paid much mind to Sinatra one way or another, until he [sister’s FIL] hosted Thanksgiving at his house several years ago. Afterwards we gents gathered in his living room and talked over drinks. His youngest son, still a teenager then, from the old man’s late-life remarriage, put on his dad’s Frank Sinatra’s collection of songs. It made for a good atmosphere. The kid adores his old man. I’ll always associate Sinatra with him.

    “It was a good year” is nice musically, a really good song on its merits. In the post-manosphere pre-boogaloo world, though, what do you make of all the blue-blooded girls with perfumed hair in the limousine, other than think in vintage cartoon panels?

  33. “It would arrive at a simple point: don’t do it.”

    Agreed. I’m glad I didn’t. But F*** me, I still think of that supremely hot girl on the regular. She said so many things that wrecked my heart. She was my kryptonite. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tight body, intelligent mind. Problem is, she was willing to wreck my marriage. So f**k her.

    Thing is, she will always be a part of my consciousness. My penance, I suppose.

  34. I also had a weird Sinatra moment. Stayed at an AirBnB location near Texas A&M. Whole guest house to myself on an acreage. The proprietor was an aged drummer. Had a studio setup with massive pro-level concert speakers. And a drum kit, but I wasn’t about to go there.

    Old dude took me out for apps and drinks. We had some great conversations. Christian man. He confessed to me that he couldn’t do what I did (travelling gig) without poking every woman he came across. I acknowledged his challenge, and also held back my true thoughts, which were: yeah, it’s tough to keep it in your pants when you know you’ll never see these chicks again. I say this as a Christian myself. Facts are facts.

    Back at the pad, CDs blasting full speed ahead on this insanely robust sound system, I heard a Sinatra song that cut me at my knees. It had to do with meeting a woman when you’re traveling, and being enraptured with her, but not in the place to form a relationship.

    I can’t remember the song’s name, but if anyone here can provide it to me, it would mean a lot.

  35. JJ – Perhaps you are thinking of the song “Isle of Capri?”

    Regarding “It Was A Very Good Year,” there is a montage set to that song in the opener of season two of The Sopranos. It’s a very poignant moment, as one of the overall themes of The Sopranos is the decline of the influence of Italian organized crime in America, and the decline of America in general.

    Of course I’m going to post the clip. Warning: brief nudity.

    Cheers, all.

  36. — Regarding “It Was A Very Good Year,” there is a montage set to that song in the opener of season two of The Sopranos. It’s a very poignant moment, as one of the overall themes of The Sopranos is the decline of the influence of Italian organized crime in America, and the decline of America in general.

    A great season opener. Decline of Italian organized crime and in parallel, the decline of Ellis Island-era Catholic ethnic-America. Italian and otherwise through assimilation and ethnic displacement. Which way, Western Christendom?

    One of the final scenes of the series showed the remnants of Tony’s crew swamped by masses of Chinese in NYC’s Chinatown. The Ascendant Sinic Civilization, was the conventional wisdom for a long time. And as the pattern often plays out, what seemed inevitable then no longer appears to be on such a sure course.

  37. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, tight body, intelligent mind”

    It’s not like the devil would have tempted you with Rosie O’Donnell 🙂

    Divorce fucks kids up for life in big ways and in subtle ways you don’t notice until well into their middle age.

    Many tangents can be taken with that Sinatra song. One that ties in to the above is sexual immorality. You have the Soprano’s season opener that shows snapshots of Tony’s very non-erotic affairs. Alpha = you take what you want = cold Carmella in bed after Tony is done taking what he wants.

    “It was a very good year” also hearkens back to the rise of the entertainment industry celebrity. How else would a fledgling Frank Sinatra have frolicked with blue blooded founder-stock girls who had their own chauffeurs, had he not already been a famous singer. The Three Parentheses were in the center of that new industry and its access to willing girls who were way out of their league by natural law. That song, at one ethnic remove, celebrates their access to places where they do not belong, places they poison when they enter.

    At least as goes Ronan Farrow, the blue-eyed Italian pulled one over on Woody Allen.

  38. My penance, I suppose.

    Your penance for what, a thought crime? If there was an almost-kiss or something of the sort, then maybe that’s a transgression. But a little swelling in the elevator or something along those lines, can’t really be helped.

    I have two stories that have to do with married women, and they both are not happy-life stories. One for reasons of my own inadequacies (and her cheating heart), the long and short of which is a blow job but not PiV sex; and the other for reasons of (me and her both) being pieces of shit.

    Don’t cheat on your spouse. The one grey area that is a maybe, is if BOTH of the married parties are wanting to divorce but haven’t completed the paperwork. But in reality that doesn’t even make for a solid rule, because the party wanting to cheat is going to misrepresent her (or his) spouse’s feelings. I think cheaters are pieces of shit. On the other hand, who isn’t a flawed human?

    Ok, here is that second story, referenced above. It was a drunken hook-up on facebook, but I wasn’t able to get it up and in, which now in retrospect is a good thing, because it was in another man’s bed with his wife which woman was a high school [whatever]. He found out that his wife was cheating, and here’s the thing: it wasn’t just w/ me!

    Another dick from the old days DID IN FACT fuck her or so I gleaned; perhaps he had the decency to do it somewhere other than the poor guy’s house.

    But this cuckolded man found out through the Facebook grapevine and called me up. At which point I was glad I hadn’t fucked her; I was in his bed with his wife though. He could come over her with a shotgun and I would only tell him the truth.

    If I were in his shoes I might kill me and her both; but actually no because too much trouble. First of all who is going to kill the mother of his own children; and second of all, how can a man commit murder w/ a clean heart, based on what he has heard through social media?

  39. Those are good comments on It was a Very Good Year.

    The lyrics in that song are evocative of the way it used to be. As I recall they feature the phrase “village green” which is also referenced in the Kinks songs above, and which phrase is a good summary emblem of a lot of /our things/ and most poignantly Where tf are our Commons? aka where’s my Village Green? (and not the mall by that name)

    Frank Sinatra was but of course Old Blue Eyes (or whatever) and such sobriquet needs no elaboration here. Apparently this is an aphorism in Italian —

    A horse face is no problem; as long as she’s blonde

    Anthony’s cousin Tony Blundetto aka Tony B was played by Steve Buscemi and he too was called a “blue-eyed prick.”

  40. On a totally other note, I have an idea for a new format with which to do real world advocacy.

    On the one hand: It’s just more screen time computer youtube facsimile real life hoaxing, but what I have in mind is skits in the real world — taking place in what passes for our village green, iow the mall haha just kidding — skits that are written up and thought out in advance and well produced and to the point, in people’s faces about demographic realities.

    Basically 10 to 15 minutes scenes that are acted out in public and filmed and produced, about themes that everyone wants to talk about but no one is willing.

    This is a great idea. Who wants to do it?

    But seriously. I was binge watching slash catching up on Sam Hyde and his (much) better half Nick Rochefort. Their current content channel on youRube, the one that I know about, is called

    lil shitpost [MDE.TV]

    They do some stuff along the lines that I am thinking. For instance going to the boardwalk and filming themselves walking along and talking obnoxiously af about sensitive topics, and getting the ears and attention of all the passers-by.

    Basically this but more scripted out.

    When Sam does his real world pranks, one crucial thing he has going for him, is that he is big as an ogre. He has size 13 feet and is like 6 two 2 with shoulders “an axe handle wide” (to use the phrase). Even so, anybody starting to push the lines of white advocacy in public, is going to bring the heat, from the police and from the obnoxious browns and blacks, and just whoever.

  41. @elk: “who isn’t a flawed human?” Great point. It isn’t from a desire to do evil that we find ourselves in compromised situations. It just behooves us to extricate ourselves well.

    Also Elk: “When Sam does his real world pranks, one crucial thing he has going for him, is that he is big as an ogre. He has size 13 feet and is like 6 two 2 with shoulders “an axe handle wide” (to use the phrase).”

    Aha. This is why you call me “huge.” I share Sam’s dimensions, although I’m size 14 in dress shoes and running shoes, and my chest is too big to fit any off-the-shelf suit.

    It used to bother me that I couldn’t wear a suit “properly,” but then I was like “F it. I’m going full barbarian.” No longer bothers me.

  42. Aha. This is why you call me “huge.” I share Sam’s dimensions, although I’m size 14 in dress shoes and running shoes, and my chest is too big to fit any off-the-shelf suit.

    For the record, it was a post of yours that originally made reference to your size; which I later quoted.

    I acknowledge though, that sometimes I wish my feet were as big as that. Other times I am happy with them (as they are).

  43. Elk, I remember. It’s why I brought it up.

    I appreciate my size as a gift. Never been in a real fight. I have a little military hand to hand training, but I’ve never taken any real blows. I’m a little embarrassed by this, tbh, but not so much I want to get punched in the face just for the experience. All my life I’ve managed to bluff my way (or joke my way) out of every situation that might have come to blows. If only others knew how easy I’d be to take on.

    Until I draw and fire, that is. But I avoid such situations. Discretion is the better part of Valor.

  44. I was out bowling with a group of friends a few days ago. The music at the venue was ‘indifferent,’ which is another way of saying that it was mostly modern autotune pop, with a recognizable 90s or such song in the mix. Overall joyless but tolerable. Then suddenly, hardcore rap came on. “WTF” was my thought but I waited to see if things regress to playlist mean on the next song. It was really bad. Not some radio-friendly hip-hop, either. It was vile nig vocals over insectile-sounding drum machine. The next song comes on, and it’s also in that style.

    OK, that’s unacceptable. I looked around. Very few people at the place. A large party of Whites at a lane far from us, my bros and I. That’s it, a slow late evening. Did the shift manager leave and black junior-staff took over the audio? No, the same manager is there, a White woman with a power-bitch haircut that was made infamous by Kate Gosselin. With her was a youngish chubby White guy.

    I told my friends, “I’m going to talk to that manager.” “Yes, please do” they said. I walked up and told her, “Hey, I want to make a request. Can you please go back to what you were playing before. Or you can put on Rock or something.” That’s more or less my conversational speech transcribed. She gave me this unfriendly surprised look but I didn’t look like I was kidding around. Eye contact speaks volumes. She instantly softened and turned to the young guy, and told him something. I walked back.

    The rap song [or however that’s classified] ended abruptly and you could hear the Pandora shifting gears. Eighties rock came on.

    It was glorious. Great energy, it was palpable. Loud eighties Rock for the rest of the night while we were there. I haven’t ten-pin bowled in years, but then REO Speedwagon “Take it on the run” came on. I bowled two strikes in a row. During that song, in fact, I thought about you fellas because that song was the subject of a Friday post a while back.

  45. I’m sitting at a bar right now. Very White. They’re playing nothing but classics that Whites like to sing to when we’ve been drinking. Billy Idol, Bon Jovi, Joan Jett, and so on. Journey is currently playing. “Only the Young.”

    It’s so comfortable and comforting. I don’t love all these songs, but I love that everyone here loves them.

    LOL Chariots of Fire just came on. I did a head check. There’s only one black in the building (two if you count his Puerto Rican Chica). I hope they hate the music.

    And with the opening licks of AC/DC Thunderstruck, and the bartender grimacing musically, uttering “THUNDAH! ” to nobody in particular, I wish you all the best until next time.

  46. “I don’t love all these songs, but I love that everyone here loves them.”

    Hell yeah man. Good way of putting it. I now always wonder how music-energy relates to Plumpjack’s musing about “forbidden music.” Eighties Rock may have been system-approved in its time but context counts. Today it invigorates us in non-approved ways, which is why autotune snuffout is played everywhere you ordinarily go [and also why they had The Highwaymen and later B.R. Cyrus and then “Dont take the girl” subvert Country].

    “Only The Young” is Louden Swain running through Spokane in the early morning.

  47. Another feel-good video from Visegrad/Intermaerum. Poland’s coast guard boards a Western-Europe origins “rainbow warrior” Greenpeace vessel that was blocking the Gdansk seaport.

    I’m posting this in part because I followed a link at Anonymous Conservative to a report from Denmark, where they expose schoolkids to perversity as part of their schooling. It sounds anodyne when just described as such, but watching that clip I wanted to [fedpost], er, see no alternative to hate and maximum intolerance. Godspeed, Denmark and Sweden.

    Parasites thrive where there is no vigilance. They perish where a simple can of Raid is deployed.

    I saw the following earlier at @BasedPoland Twitter account. He is great for updates on the events in Europe. He’s also connected to Brazil’s right wing.

  48. I also watched the Danish thing after reading about it on AC. I really can’t find the words to describe how upset I was to see it. The most important thing was, as AC pointed out, the audience was all sweet, beautiful White kids, the kind we want our own progeny to look like and behave like. Contrast that to the utter nastiness of the fugly leftist women who paraded themselves naked from the waist down. Plus, OF COURSE, the ONE woman who had a modicum of physical fitness, such that one might conclude she had a relatively attractive figure, was all but black.

    This plus the low-T face and mannerisms of the prancing White male host (and the high-T “woman” in the lineup, the only one almost as slender as the mulatto). All these elements are far too in-your-face to be in any way the result of some kind of coincidence or accident. It’s all by design. It’ll probably be next year’s StuporBowl commercial, if we and Trump don’t stop it.

  49. PA, I like your approach.

    A year ago, I stopped at a burger joint, always staffed by local youths. I didn’t notice the nog music when we walked in but as soon as looked up at the menu, it was all I could hear. The lyrics were unintelligible. It was late and I was tired and the music instantly got under my skin. I tried to study the menu but couldn’t make heads or tails of an order. “I can’t concentrate with this fuckin nigger music” I announced to the whole restaurant or no one in particular, as I turned and went for the door, in the reflection of the glass I saw my “date” running to keep up and the counter girl with her mouth agape.
    I’ve been back a half dozen times since, always pleasant music and the staff would eat out the palm of my hand.
    I believe I was thinking about “we don’t have to live like this” as we drove to the grocery to buy some sandwiches.

    It’s still going to get worse before it gets better but I’m not so black pilled these days. And where’s Carlos Danger been? He must be having a field day on zero hedge with the corona virus.

  50. “Today it invigorates us in non-approved ways, which is why autotune snuffout is played everywhere you ordinarily go”

    The three-minute song format is also a very a very deliberate way of curating invigorating music and making it safe for public consumption. Just when you’re about to get your posse together and go full Lynard Skynard scorched earth the song on the radio ends and Neil Young comes on and now all you want to do is go drink by yourself until you pass out.

  51. As it’s a slow day, maybe someone wants to comment on the gossip re JF Gariepy and his retarded squeeze bitch (with nice tits) who goes by name “Mama JF”. Here is a timestamped clip of the reTARD [accent on the SECond sylLABle] under consideration —

    For starters, pleased to be saying you shouldn’t know anything about this gossip. If you do, get a life already! (off the internet and or at least outside this part of it)

    Gariepy himself, whose bitch this is, is a (seriously) credentialed intellectual but who likes to stick his dick in the mentally handicapped. What a thing it is, eh?

    I have followed this gossip and the one detail [ the crucial detail ] is exactly the one missing: What is her diagnosis? My opinion is that simply a case of mental retardation, but really what that even means, I don’t effing know..


    Relatedly, this personal story, which can safely be skipped. I was in a rl talking-situation and it came up the subject of someone we both knew from high school. This someone works at the grocery and had / has a disability and we were trying to guess what it was, and the guy I was discussing this with, said and insisted that he thought the guy was “on the spectrum.”

    But as a matter of certain fact the guy in question is NOT on the spectrum, and to the contrary a remarkable thing about him, is that he is perceptive and adept at maintaining positive social relations DESPITE his handicap, which I think is some brain dystrophy thing.

    My simple point being, that the guy who said he was “on the spectrum” was trying to use that catch-all diagnosis as a smart-sounding hip thing to say, and which him doing so is a sad commentary.

  52. OoOoOoOoOhhh we were slaves too!!!

    Fuggin retarded.

    Good to know, I guess. You’re not gonna score any points arguing that your ancestors were losers.

  53. “Gariepy himself, whose bitch this is, is a (seriously) credentialed intellectual but who likes to stick his dick in the mentally handicapped. What a thing it is, eh?

    It’s a safe guess that they are more compliant, for one, than a more typical battle-ax harpy? And the woman in question certainly seems to have a pleasant comportment. The youRube comment that gets to the onion, is that retards need lovin’ too, amirite?

    Is it really a wrong thing, to give her the dick?


    Richard Dawkins, the famous biologist and ourguy to the extent that that’s possible in the real world of credentials respect and prestige, is rockin the twitter with some monster thread posting on the old hair-dog of eugenics.

    Turns out that complex and sensitive subjects don’t much lend themselves to intelligent debate, on that platform.

    Dawkins says that Eugenics, in his scientific estimation and as a point of fact, “works”. And then the naysayers throw monkeypoop at his use of this word, thinking that that thar angle of attack be all intelligent and meta and shit.

  54. — has a disability and we were trying to guess what it was, and the guy I was discussing this with, said and insisted that he thought the guy was “on the spectrum.”

    There is this condition that don’t know what to make of. I knew two people like that: a guy in my high school whom I periodically bumped into at my former gym, and a slightly older dude who is married to woman of my acquaintance. I’ll try to describe it:

    Each of the two guys seems off and has something gaylike or even childlike about him, but is not homosexual; not a sexual deviant of any kind as far as I can ascertain. He almost seems cognitively disabled, but he’s not retarded. He can hold down a lower-skill blue collar, or a very routine-based complex job. Can hold a normal adult conversation but one senses that we live in different worlds. He’s not on the spectrum because he has normal emotions, yet like I already said, he’s a bit off. There is, like alluded earlier, something gay or childlike about their face but there is no physical sign of developmental abnormality, except that you can tell by their eyes that there is something off. In fact, both of them are handsome, just weird.

  55. Sounds like Benevolent Slightly Slow White Guy Raised in a Decent Two-Parent Home Syndrome to me.

    Ha. I was going to say PA’s acquaintances sounded like more typically slightly spergy, but yeah.

    Which begs the (big) question of what it’s about, that these concepts — the autism spectrum, “being slightly spergy” — and or the actual condition itself, are such a thing.

    Big topic. A lot of factors. MPC, back before they went private, was mainly about this topic. Socialization and how it has gone awry which they principally explained with their meme of SCALE. I give them a lot of credit; but Pleasureman was pretty much of a prick, beyond just the usual level of being a flawed human being.

    Pleasureman made a career out of ripping apart soyboys; but going by his voice, which was doxxed, he was a Kermit the Frog-sounding fucker.

    But going back to my previous comment and old high school chum, who was mischaracterized by another high school acquaintance as being “on the spectrum.” Such mischaracterization got on my nerves because it went to how people will throw around a term that they think is trendy and smart sounding, but in this case was exactly the wrong. The guy-in-question, the whole thing about him and the very reason we came to talk about him, is that it turned out he was very socially savvy, on a way above level.

    He ended working at a local grocery, for like (literally) 20 years, knowing pretty much everybody and what’s more keeping people in the loop; the exact opposite of being a sperg.

    Looking in on his life trajectory, from the outside, I came to admire him quite a bit, and even consider him something a hero. He had this disability but turned out to be the man. When he was in high school he was the absolute omega. The lowest guy on the whole totem pole (practically). And even then though he was known; because he wouldn’t bow his head.

  56. In spite of his disability he wouldn’t take shit from people. It would be a better story with “the crucial detail” which is his diagnosis, which I never found out. At this point I would like to ask him point blank, next time up at the store; but to do so would be uh, spergy.

    It was one of those disabilities that there was a rash of, back in the US public school systems in the 70s and 80s, like epilepsy or MS or something, or skoliosis, but it wasn’t any of those things. He did have a curved spine, and that may have been about the extent of his problems, but his head and face was little bit misshaped as well. His condition doesn’t appear to be progressive, as he is doing no worse now than he was.

    It’s a cliche that “high school can be brutal” and in Alt Right 1.0 and the manosphere generally, you are supposed to be pro-bullying, but the simple facts is that’s despicable the way that kids can treat other; sometimes.

  57. The all time best Groening cartoon was not the Simpsons, it was a single panel cartoon from his book School Is Hell, with its title something like The 88 Types of High School Students; or, How do you rate?

    That’s from memory and not exactly right but pretty close. But it had 88 panels from the top left, leading the pack were Superboy and Golden Girl and then each row down smaller than the one above. The very last three were —

    (the suicide)
    Who cares?

    Groening really was that brilliant..

    For extra credit, were single panel cartoons the first memes, [ the answer is no ] and why not?

  58. Never heard of this JF guy before, but I followed the rabbit hole down a couple of clips. That chick is . . . amusing, if it’s somehow just her schtick. He seems unfazed by her interrupting his broadcasts to exclaim about converting gay men on elevators to straight sex with her, or “No White Guilt” being a shapeshifting ghost that follows her around.

    I would assume she’s quite . . . abnormal. Is it strictly retardation, or some kind of Tourette’s that supercharges her with fanciful rants. It reminds me of Norman O. Brown enthusing about a schizophrenic girl’s complaint that she was a drop of rain falling down the wall. Brown wanted the schizos to live out among us. Now they do. There’s no charm in them being on the loose, but I’m still ravished by the words of an 18th Century poet in Bedlam who was know to say, “Mr. Pope’s flowers at Twickenham know him by his face.”

    People have been known to say, “Somesuch likes ’em dumb.”

  59. Today GFriend win Inkigayo for the–twelfth time?–in their career with “Crossroads”, the third installment of a trilogy that began with 2018’s “Time for the Moon Night” and continued with ’19’s “Sunrise” in which they compact as much symphonic sweep of tone, tempo, and emotion as the 3-minute pop song format can contain:

    In other culture reportage, watched Scorsese’s “The King of Comedy” last night and laughed out loud quite a bit. De Niro’s fantasy girl in this is a high-yeller, which perhaps was a bit of autobiography seeping into the proceedings as well as a possible explanation for “Joker”s apeing (!) the same dynamic.

    Sandra Bernhard’s character during one of her psychotic rants declares apropos of nothing, “I wish I was black!”

  60. “I was discussing this with, said and insisted that he thought the guy was “on the spectrum.””

    Translation: “I know psychiatry is fake, so Im going to say on the spectrum to make it sound like a hard science.”

    Someone either has a billing code label or doesnt. Psych started using ” On the Spectrum” because people started coming into their offices and they realized that everyone can be labeled mentally ill. Itd be bad for business if anyone in a position of power got wind of this. The one thing I dont see discussed is whats going to happen when the millenials start taking power. All of them believe in this bullshit. Theres going to be no one to run the country if everyone has a mental illness

  61. goys still love the orange clown and listen to shitty songs
    Die Liebe ist ein wildes Tier

    Currently # 1 on Nahzi Top 50
    p.s say hello the the archetypal boomer elliot If you see him around

  62. Speaking of sentimental, has anyone heard a peep out of ol’ Doctor Hugo Schwyzer lately?

    I’m guessing he will pull a Caitlin Jenner and pop up as a transgender any day now, for the sake of attention and getting back in the limelight.

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