How in the hell is a man supposed to obtain a Lionel Richie CD in this day and age? One cannot just walk into Sam Goodie, pluck Dancing On The Ceiling off the shelf and simply march up to the counter and pay for it. There is an American tradition of unspoken rules which must not be broken and that, like the one about men buying tampons, is one of them.

Back in '86 Lionel was music to get down with the ladies to; it was background music for unadulterated sexual licentiousness. You left the cassette paused right before Say you, say me back at the pad and then went out to find yourself a likely candidate for some seriously smooth 80's R&B style panty melting. It was not only "Ok" to own Lionel, it was an essential component in the arsenal of the modern minded single male of the 80's; it was a universally accepted minimum.

In the new millenium (which I shall henceforth refer to as, "the aughties"), dusting off the cassette player and sliding in some Lionel while attempting to lure a woman out of her clothing is the modern dating equivalent of committing sepuku.

There is no excuse to buy, borrow, listen to, possess, own or even desire any compilation of Lionel Richie music on any medium at any time, ever. period. This is exactly why, despite the intrinsic dishonesty of it, Napster must be forgiven its faults. It offers a forum for closet Winger fans and needy Barry Manilow lovers to obtain their darkest desire; to feed the hideous six headed beast of tacky musical tastes.

If you are caught, I do not know you; neither do your friends. If they were truly good friends they will wait until you are out of earshot before breaking out into hysterical laughter at your expense (I will, in all likelihood, not).

And this is just an example. Not only is there an supposititious cornucopia of fad bands, hair rockers and disco legends that have been mortared away behind the brick wall of forced social amnesia but things as well. I still laugh my ass off every time I see a girl in bell bottoms or knickers -- err, Capri pants.

I suppose [s]he who controls the fashion industry controls the "fashionable". An army of airheads; a frightening thought.

The End

(To answer your question; no, there was absolutely no point to this node at all.)