Sometimes, scanning the list of posts on FFL searching for one that I find interesting enough to reply to, I find myself also searching for a metaphor to explain the sense of incredulity I feel at the same-old-same-old repetitiveness of it all. This morning I came up with such a metaphor, and it made me laugh, so I'll pass it along. Consider this my version of Bhairitu's "The Funny Farm Lounge" metaphor. :-)
Reading FFL is like stumbling across a weird group of fanatical Monkees fans. They get together in cyberspace and endlessly talk about the glory days of Mickey, Davy, Peter and Michael as if they were gods. They argue about which songs were most cosmically important, and the deep esoteric meaning of their lyrics. When other musicians' names come up, the Monkees fans get angry and feel that they have to put them down, because however good these other musicians may be, after all they're not the Monkees. Some are so fanatical and so enduringly loyal to the Monkees that they think anyone who gets caught attending a concert by any other musician should be banned from the Monkees Fan Club for life as the heretics they are. But the most amazing part is that the fan club is still going strong, still doing all of this every day, 40+ years after the popularity of the group they revere jumped the shark. And all of this for a pop group that wasn't very good in the first place.
