Though I am well aware that I am no St Augustine, I have tended to treat this blog as a confessional. Well, today the urge to purge has struck again. It is Sunday after all. I have been wrestling with this particular shame for some weeks now, hoping that it would diminish into a passing fancy. But to no avail. I feel the time has come when I must admit that I really really like the music of Sean Paul. Eeeek. I mean, have you seen that film clip where they're all in the basement and the song is just fab and the dancing's even fabber? Man that kills me. I love it. It's scary, man. I like his music. And he's not even good-looking! In fact, he's most probably a dick-face loser man, but it don't matter cos dem tunes are kickin, bwoy-ee. I never really got into the whole Shaggy thing, but I find the Sean Paul take on the matter quite appealing. He's a superstar on the make. I'm not joking. I perk up when I hear his songs. It's quite undeniable. And did I mention that he's not even good-looking! This is so unlike me.

Oh, and Guy, can I just confirm absolutely your theory about the unknowing gay subtext [or is it supertext? It's really quite unmissable] of Emannuel Carrella's "hush hush, don't say a word, sound carries in the night, carries in the nigh-ee-ight.... you cannot speak my name, you cannot speak my name" song. Someone's been reading the poetry of Lord Alfred Douglas, eh? Not to mention all the "can't breathe gotta run gotta hide, from what we need" stuff. This song never made any sense to me before. But now its clarity is unimpeachable. My particular favourite aspect of the song, though, is Emmanuel's 'gritty' spoken word moments, especially when he begins the song with "each day passes by in a blurry haze like a tape that's being played at the wrong speed". He speaks the truth yo, and in a language that us discontented young folk can understand.