chomo rockers rule OK
I've been listening to a lot of music by alleged British pedophiles such as Gary Glitter (pictured) and Pete Townsend. The latter, who was a genius up until about 1968, was popped a few months ago by Limey authorities for paying to view online pix of nude kids. The former is a huge star in England but is unknown in America even though his "Rock 'n' Roll (Part 2)," colloquially known as "The 'Hey' Song," competes with Queen's "We Will Rock You" as the most overplayed tune at sporting events from coast to coast.
Glitter was publicly disgraced in Miserable Olde England after the intensely fruity proto-Elvis impersonator brought his computer in for repairs, only for the technician to find thousands of photos of naked boys. He then moved to pedo-friendly Cambodia, only to be deported from there, too. His legacy has mainly been relegated to online jokes ("Q: How do you stop Gary Glitter from drowning? A: Throw him a boy.")
I'm a huge fan of almost all early British glam except for T. Rex. It's my favorite rock genre by far. I rate Gary Glitter almost as high as Slade and The Sweet, and he's miles above overrated hooknosed titmouse Marc Bolan. Ol' Gary could have sucked a million boycocks, and his stomping, overblown, fascist-rally music would still be great.
Which gets me to wondering about the cognitively dissonant ability of most people to discount someone's entire canon based on personal peccadilloes. OJ Simpson is still one of the greatest football players ever, Ike Turner still had a massive influence on popular music, and I can still write better than you can.
Fuck, Joan Jett has built a career on trying to capture Gary Glitter's sound ("Do You Wanna Touch Me" was his song first), and she EATS PUSSY, and yet people can forgive her!
From what I hear, Gary Glitter is looking for a home. If you have a spare bedroom, could you please put him up?
