I have just returned from a distracted meander through the luscious environs of the Greater Ennis area. I met an old friend from work on my travels. The following is a segment from our somewhat awkward encounter:
"No man. Not into the Electric Picnic buzz at all man. Oxegen all the way man, going for the first time this year. Fuckin' savage man. You going?"
"No. Not really bothered."
"My arse man. Couldn't get a ticket yeah?
"No. Not really bothered. Doesn't interest me."
"Sure I thought you were into festivals and that shit man."
"I am. Just not into Oxegen."
"Why not like?"
Now, this is how I should have replied...
"Erm... Snow Patrol, Scissor Sisters, Amy Winehouse, Tori Amos, The Goo Goo Dolls, The Killers, Razorshite, The Kooks, Baby Shambles, Klaxons, and most of all that fuckwit Mika. Also... the general atmosphere of cynicism and latent malevolence, the omnipresent scobe and the subsequent unease, Tiesto in the campsite, roaming hordes of White Lightning fuelled beagles, the faint echo of Seven Nation Army's insistent progression (as roared by mindless arseholes), the degenerate security personnel, the tent burning, the toilet tossing, the allegations of rape.
Basically... the festival's soulless commercialism. The complete lack of heart or ingenuity in its organisation. The fact that Oxegen stands as an insult to Darwinism; a folly of cultural immediacy for the truly un-evolved... Mika."
Instead, I looked at my former colleague. I glanced into his eyes and at once saw the purity of his soul. It shone from him like a beacon, and momentarily cleansed me of my tumultuous memories. Thankful for this solace, I could not bring myself to tell. Let this festival virgin be sodomised by the rampant sex pest that is Oxegen TM... A twisted epiphany awaits the foolhardy.
"Grace Kelly" plays at the gates of Hades. Mika has made his pact... Kerchinnnng-ah!