A truly stirring musical exposé by Ian Brown (of Stone Roses fame) and has-been Pope-shredder, Sinead O’Connor

The driving beat and introspective lyrics force you to reconsider, to think about deep and moving things, like … What’s up with Brown’s neck? Did he miss his last chiropractic appointment? Who wrote those lyrics? How much did they pay Brown to get involved with something this bad (we know that Sinead just NEEDS the money)? Where does Brown get his plastic surgery done? (Allahpundit is right, his cheek bones are great.)

Ian Brown, Sinead O’Connor, anti-war, Iraq

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