.apparently, always, originating from the sort of people who have a major disdain for Phil Collins, and, what could be considered a branch virology - i.e. - the infectious nature of pop music, and the lack of any sort of antibiotics, to counter the infectious nature of this stuff...

namely? the genius of U2...
yes, Bono this, Bono  that....

             whatever...

while cooking dinner...

     the early U2 esp.,

     the subtle rhythm section of
the guitar, not exactly riffs,
or encompassing chords...

more akin to titillating you with
shy solo... or rather: no solo to begin
with... a rhythm based on
what could be a solo...

consistent drumming...
  and like any band that respects
the bass guitar
   (unlike some bands... ahem,
Metallica, where the bass guitar
is inaudible...
        i guess after Cliff Burton's
death... the bass also died
in the production apparatus of
the album)...

but i know, i've seen the face of
fear when walking in
the night...
                i'm a tourist,
what can i say...
              i like snooping for
ontological oddities...
           and i also know the face
of shame,
                 but you wouldn't think
it could come from
the place i'm about to point out...

the guilty pleasure pop song...
****... people are more precious
about their sometimes lacking
eclectic taste in music that...
well... it's staggering
   esp. when, say... compensating
other, frivolous activity deviance(s)
in the bedroom department...

alt. i'll stop being a ******,
if your girls stop being such exhibitionists,
           savvy?

**** this *** tastes better than
the sight of the current afternoon,
and all that... vanilla sky.