Those Darn Ivories

Normally I avoid making fun of the writing of non-native speakers of English. But this is so good I had to share it. I was googling around, looking at posts on piano playing as a hobby, and I found this extraordinary paragraph:

“The sound of the piano is actually some kind of a therapy specifically for unfortunate musical pieces. Picture yourself being over your head towards the seems or ticking melodies one after the other. Picture yourself participated within the sensation of grief, of pain, as well as discomfort as represented through notes. There’s much more in order to music compared to terms can communicate. This is a lot more than fulfills the human ear. Do you notice many people becoming carried away by the feeling piano music is actually giving them? Have to count lots of crying kisses inside a piano concert?”

There’s more, but that’s the gem. The sound of the piano is therapy for unfortunate musical pieces — what a world that observation evokes! What would make a piece unfortunate? And how would the sound of the piano act as therapy for an unfortunate piece, I wonder. And discomfort as represented through notes! I’m not sure even Thelonious Monk ever represented discomfort through notes, and who ever came closer than Monk? Ah, and then the crying kisses — the coup de grace, the final nail in the coffin of this astonishing prose poem.

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