Propagandhi Fedallah's Hearse Lyrics:
As so many practiced diplomats, so too your
vaunted laureates, whose access to the higher
rungs of a cultural priesthood is hinged upon
their flat for sophistry. Well, I vote you the
best equipped to shrink from speech that might
suggest any thoughts your key target-market might
not have already signed-off on and ratified. And I
vote you most likely to clutter your language with
so much deadwood that no amount of pruning will
reveal your intensive, protracted campaign of
saying nothing at all. Your daydreams of black tie
affairs at Rideau Hall. Your acceptance speech.
Your dramatic pause. Don't forget to thank those
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bitter ex-musicians cum embedded rock-journalists
frantically applauding the latest
artist-formerly-known-as iconoclast, giddy from
the fumes of a fresh detection, moping to the
maudlin beat of a hat rack rhythm section, a tacit
understanding of mutual non-aggression enjoyed by
every nauseating do-nothing functionary. Really,
it's not so much the incessant ruse of assigning
profound meaning to the meaningless curios you
decorate your sets with in your extraordinarily
mundane fictions. It's the (colossal) arrogance of
the subtext: the province of human affairs is a
field best left to dilettantes with and
extraordinary gift for feigning of paralysis. For
saying nothing at all. For daydreams of black tie
affairs at Rideau Hall. An acceptance speech.
Sustained applause.
Lyrics: Fedallah's Hearse, Propagandhi [end]