In Honor of the Fourth

Behold, a bunch of Australians in the production of a British operetta:

(If you’re not familiar with The Pirates Of Penzance, at this point in the action, these pirates who suck as pirates are trying to sneak into a house, and while they’re doing so they’re singing very loudly about how awesome they are at being quiet.  It’s quite possibly the greatest dynamics-related joke in all of opera.)

Okay, there are a few things going on here, not the least of which are purple tights.  Then there’s the drum machine, the altered orchestrations, enough over-the-topness to generate an email from Richard Simmons announcing his outrage, the fact that the lyrics are practically indecipherable without the libretto, and a synthesizer with a Not Quite Gilbert and Sullivan setting.

But the reason you’ve heard me wailing for Percoset over the past week is that it’s gone far, far away, and I am left with an empty bottle and old, non-wondrous Percoset antidepressants that don’t quite cover the cutoff gap.  It’s been awfully fun around here.

So you take amusement when it arrives from Netflix, and sometimes that comes in the form of pirate kicklines.  Someone out there on some good non-prescription stuff second me on this.

you’re welcome at:  mbe@drinktothelasses.com