Tuesday, 11 March 2008

Dear Shiina Yumiko, AKA Ringo Shiina AKA Apple O' my life...

I would like to preface this site, in what no doubt shall be all its ecclesiastical glory and love-labored homage, with a "shout out", if you will, to the one who started it all. A certain woman who goes by the name, a humble one at that, of Shiina Ringo. She goes by many names, truthfully, but as readers of their blog wade their way through her universe they will discover the meaning of these exciting names by themselves.

So, Shiina Ringo. What can I say about her? Christ, what a corny opening. I'm sorry my goddess. MY GODDESS?!? Who the fuck do I think I am? Shiina, even you, with your encyclopedic knowledge of the universe, could never begin to conceive of how much you and your music figure into my life. Actually, of course you could. That was bloody rude of me. Sorry SHIINA! You know Shiina, sometimes the name you gave yourself is best in expressing what you are. Therefore, I will heretofore refer to you as Ringo, the star of Ringo's Room.

I will cut to the chase. I was a man. A man who was not understood by those around me. I used to think it was their fault, but now I realise they were merely acting within the constraints of their insignificance. But they detected my superior aura and intelligence. And no, they did not like it. Throughout life I have been shunned, from bullying to lack of employment options, and at a certain point I was beginning to come to a realisation that I was destined to transcend all the shit. Transcend mundanity and go someplace else. I was alone though. What can a man alone do? A man. That's all I am. I need someone.

A woman.

Or is it just a woman I found?


The day before I ate an apple, savoured its sweet crunch, excretions of juice, etc. But that day I ate another apple. Somehow, these two events had absolutely nothing to do with one another at all in scientific or logical terms. The stoics of Ancient Greece were rolling in their graves, because these two items were nevertheless so inextricably paired that they could make any set of twins look like apples and oranges. Spiritually, that is.

That apple, it was Ringo. Ringo is Japanese for apple by the way.

I was browsing the internet, living my alternative lifestyle, when I landed upon a site dedicated to an aggressive rock performer named Shiina Ringo. She looked amazing. She looked REALLY amazing. Her tits! I focused on the material, but it drew me in deeper. Deeper, to this woman's life. Her music. Her relationships. Her home.

How despicable I was! How typically chauvinist as a male, seeing no further than the flesh. Yet now I realise the true avant garde relevance of this. Most true art is impenetrable and requires much bashing of heads against a wall and requisite intelligence. But Shiina mastered the manipulation of aesthetics, and combined the striking superficiality of Warhol's Pop Art with the indecipherable gut/mind volleys of Joyce's Ulysses.

But yet, I was still reeling. Shiina drew me in unlike anything I'd ever seen and while I was heading into her world like something off a conveyer belt, my inner sanctum was reeling. But fuck that. Here I went. Off to Shiina World. But no sooner had I gotten comfy than Shiina ripped me from whence I had been seated and...


She screamed, attacked me, sexually belittled me, traumatised me, thrilled me, fucked me, tore me up like bread, ate me like a pack of Polos, had sex with me dad, cummed in my balls, and FUCKED ME JIMMY! Basically I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT.

A complete sensory assault, this was me: Wrhguio. Fast forward! I had regained my composure, and began to consider the implications of what had just occured. I remembered a nurse, who questioned my deep seated prejudices towards sexuality. I recalled a rocker, ripped straight from the pages of a Mick Rock portfolio, who scared the shit out of the squares and made me hot for the world of rebellion. I could remember a girl who evoked incredible political and societal statements and throwbacks with her avant garde style of dress. Basically, I could also recall seeing the entire breadth of the universe flash before my eyes in the span of half a nanosecond.

But this is negating the woman's music. Is there nothing she CAN'T do? Her handling of the guitar transcends the wankery of rock gods such as Clapton and Page while simultaneously revelling in their excess, embracing erotic hedonism while rising above its sordid nature and maintaining a dignity like none other. Citations of composers such as Debussy appear in her song titles. It is rumoured that she sent a 10 page list of musical favourites to her label, with all kinds of music on it.

And indeed, the music. She is a perfectionist, she perfects a genre, creates the absolute pinnacle, and then tosses it aside like a ragdoll, moving on to the next one in an instant. Rock, Jazz, Pop, whatever, she comes, she conquers, and she moves on. No instrument is beyond her understanding, and she approaches each with a unique sense of grace, unrivalled throughout the ages. As with genres, she masters an instrument, then tackles another without a second thought, truly an incredible woman.

A mole, perched beneath the lowest possible reach of her firm, prominent cheekbones which radiate an incredible light that is subsequently reflected with added zest and zeal from the incredible orbs of her eyes and enhanced with the stylish and au natural appeal of her lashes, Ringo carries an elegance that lacks contrivance and surpasses all. Even when the mole left her, it only seemed to unveil a layer of her sexuality and beauty that we had not really got a glimpse of in the past. It was refreshing to the eye.

Ringo, if you're reading this (oh perish the thought of me wasting your time and talent! Do please refrain from reading further if this page is causing you stress or weighing on your spiritual flow) - thank you. Thank you for even acknowledging me. I know that you are the one for me. And I know that any other relationships you choose to partake in will only hurt you. I will wait, Shiina. You must know how patient I am, and how much I love you. All this is just a test of my endurance. One day, Shiina, we will meet. This site is dedicated to your spirit, yourself as much as the fans who desire you but sadly cannot have you, as it written in destiny between us. Shiina... you know, don't you?

1 comment:

killerchuuun said...

holy fuck, Shiina is an intense figure in your life. her music seriously affects people in unimaginable ways.

i positively adore her &her extinct mole<3333