Joni Mitchell worship thread

[Leo]

if you search long enough, you can find contradictions in everything.

 

[luka]

if you search long enough, you can find contradictions in everything.

Someone needs to put out a compilation of Leoisms.

 

[luka]

We could do a range of T-Shirts

 

[version]

The fuss over Rogan really does feel like hysteria. He's someone that can be made into an avatar and a scapegoat for the establishment's own failings re: public trust. That and a big chunk of the media seem to resent the fact he has the platform he does without having gone through the liberal pipeline.

 

[luka]

I think that's right. He's just a lunkhead that got lucky, he's not Hitler.

 

[Leo]

textbook virtue signaling. Rogan's not the reason why covid is still around, but he's an easy target.

 

[version]

There's worse stuff on Fox, Newsmax and the rest than there is on Rogan, but I suppose they're safely bracketed as conservative and relatively contained in their own networks whereas Rogan's one of the crown jewels of Spotify.

Seems to be part of the effort to conflate morality and legacy media interests too, like when NYT went after Substack.

 

[line b]

I think I'm a culture war accelerationist. You have to push certain principles to their extreme until the contradictions collapse the entire structure

Im not because it makes my parents insufferable

 

[luka]

Im not because it makes my parents insufferable

Which side are they on?

 

[line b]

Which side are they on?

theyre well meaning liberals but sometimes it feels like Im trapped between two mr teas

 

[Murphy]

The horror

 

[luka]

Liberals in small town Texas, assailed by evil on all sides

 

[luka]

Driving a six hour round trip just to be able to buy free range eggs, the New York Times and an aubergine.

 

[luka]

Debating whether to mount a midnight raid to tear down the neighbours confederate flag.

 

[forclosure]

all i can say is when i saw this new regarding Joni Mitchell it was through the BBC and the image they picked was not flattering to say the least. I know she's been unwell for a long time and her bodies been breaking down but they couldn't have picked a better image?

 

[sus]

Here's my (entirely subjective) best of Joni Mitchell playlist. I'm throwing it together by listening to all of Joni Mitchell's album in chronological order, out of the corner of my ear, at work. Needless to say, this is all being very haphazardly executed.

This is a bad idea, insofar as I can imagine a lot of her ouevre grows on you. Also it's a bad idea cos I'm getting absolutely sick of Joni Mitchell songs going round and round in my head. Nevertheless, the hero must tilt at windmills.

As can be easily seen, I rate Blue' high high high above any earlier album. I've known it for years, but it still seems to me to be absolutely stacked.

I'm onto Court and Spark and I feel I'm missing the point. Don't like the saxophone much.

I will add plentifully from Hejira when I get to it.

At the moment it's an aerial view I'm amassing but will get into the nitty gritty soon.

Set me right, or just join in with the worship.

I'm sorry, this is a shit list. "Big Yellow Taxi" and "Woodstock" (twice)? "Circle Game" twice? "Both Sides Now"? I'm disappointed Corpsey. Luka always speaks so highly of you.

 

[sus]

 

[sus]

It was five p.m. at La Scala Presto, an Italian trattoria in Brentwood. Joni had picked the restaurant because it was among the local restaurants willing to incur fines just for the pleasure of having Joni Mitchell dine and smoke there. As urban centers all over America were banning smoking in public places, life for Joni Mitchell was still a noir film from the '40s, full of nicotine and screwball repartee. She kept smoking in public as long as she could, until she was eventually reduced to e-cigarettes.

 

[forclosure]

It's important that this is in here

 

[sus]

I got bitched out by Joni Mitchell! She was a maestro, hurling one indignity at me after another. She loathed the picture the Times had chosen, and there was one phrase in particular that made her gorge rise: “middle-class.” That was the adjective I had used to describe her home. It struck a chord—and not a chromatic one—through the heart of the author of “The Boho Dance,” the art school dropout for whom there could be nothing worse than to be bourgeois.