Benjamin Britten


The only good thing you can say about Britten is that the cunt is dead, so we don’t have to be subjected to any more of his cacophonistic shite.

The man was hailed as the greatest composer of the 20th century. Bollocks he was. That’s a bit like saying Damien Hirst or Tracey Emin are great artists. His ‘operas’ were shite. Crap story lines and total lack of melody. You’d get a better melody by banging together a couple of dustbin lids.

And the cunt is hero worshipped. Why? ‘cos he was a poof ahead of his time? Wasn’t it illegal in those days? Shouldn’t he have got a prison sentence rather than a gong?

Take my advise – don’t go to Aldeburgh this year. It’s the centenary of his birth and there’s going to be a series of events to commemorate the occasion. If you’re not sure where Aldeburgh is just follow the sound of clashing dustbin lids.

Not Mozart. Not Verdi. Not talented. Just the best we had – which doesn’t say much for the rest of the cunts. Cream of the crap. Cunt of musical cunts. Talentless, poofta cunt!

Nominated by : Small Town Man & Dioclese
(Playing together in perfect harmony)

I remember old Benji Britten up the West End on adventures doncha know. Loved his little boys – quite a few scandals there but it was all hushed up. Loved alliteration – Peter Pears, paedophile porn – that kind of thing.

Nominated by : Sir Limply Stoke