Wednesday, March 15, 2006

I've seen the future and it will be, I've seen the future and it works

I tossed off a comment about going to the opera on Sunday, making it sound like I go to the opera. Which I really don't. But I did. I'll just come out and say it. Die Fledermaus is a hoot, yo. After doing a little reading, I guess we have Strauss to thank for the music, but not the comedy so much. Otherwise I was ready to dub him the 19th century's answer to Mel Brooks. I guess this wasn't a typical night at the opera, but it was an exceedingly welcoming toe in the water for me. Hence the lyric in the post title which just happens to come from Prince's Batman, y'all. See how that all came together so nicely?


The Other Andrew said...

I'm off to see Madama Butterfly on the 23rd. w00t! I heart me some Cho Cho San.

Michael said...

I know! I'm requiring pictures of you and The Lovely Ex in formal attire, remember?

The Other Andrew said...

Sure thing!

Bodhi said...

Opera, huh?

Well, being the civilized and truly cultured Mo that I am (oh shut up bitches, I so, like, am), let me dutifully and impressively sing these truly beautiful and indeed quite moving lyrics sung to the tune of Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen.

Oh of course that song is an Opera! I mean, pluh-ease.

It called Indian Curry Rhapsody:

Naan, just killed a man
Poppadom against his head
Had lime pickle now he’s dead.
Naan, dinner’s just begun
But now I’m gonna throw it all away.
Naan, ooh, ooh didn’t mean to make you cry
If I’m not back from the loo by this time tomorrow
Curry on, curry on
Cause nothing really madras.
Too late, my dinner’s gone
Sends shivers down my spine
Bottom aching all the time
Goodbye onion bhaji, I’ve got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and use the loo.
Naan, ooh, ooh
This dupiazza is so mild
I sometimes wish we’d never come here at all.

I see a little chicken tikka on the side
Rogan Josh, Rogan Josh, pass the chutney made of mango
Vindaloo does nicely very very spicy meat!
Byriani (Byriani)
Byriani (Byriani)
Byriani and a naan
(A vindaloo loo loo loo)
I’ve eaten balti, somebody help me
He’s eaten balti, get him to the lavatory
Stand you well back ‘case the loo is quarantined…
Here it comes
There it goes
Technicolour Yawn
I chunder
It’s coming up again
(There he goes)
I chunder, it’s coming back again
(There he goes)
Coming back again
(Up again)
Here it comes again.
(No no no no no no No)
On my knees, I’m on my knees
On his knees, oh, there he goes
This vindaloo
Is about to wreck my guts
Poor meee …. Poor meeee … poor MEEEEEE!

So you think you can chunder and then feel alright?
So you try to eat curry and drink beer all night?
Oh maybe, but now you’ll puke like a baby
Just had to come out
It just had to come right out in here.

Korma or Dupizza
Bhaji, Naan or Saag
Nothing makes a difference
Nothing makes a difference
To meeee….
(Any way the wind blows ….sssshhhh)

I know. I know. I am sure that you are all indeed a little stunned. My cultural awareness of the arts indeed knows no bounds. I'm sooooo, like, classy and, like, refined.

You may now politely applaud.