The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

It's Not Over Yet, Is It.

Okay . . . granted that, as of this writing, it doesn't look good for those (like me) who voted for John Kerry yesterday, but it looks as though the campaign is going to dig its heels in on the numbers out of Ohio. Maybe there's enough provisional ballots out there for them to eke out a victory (I'm not saying it's likely, mind you), or maybe they're just gonna buy themselves another day before they have to acknowledge the worst. I don't know.

All I know is, the more I think of another four years of George W. Bush (and this insane war in Iraq . . . for starters), the more dread gathers in the pit of my stomach.

So whatever the Kerry campaign thinks they need to do to stave off defeat, they must do.

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