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

Great Philosophers of the 20th Century #6: Roger Miller

" . . . woman, would you weep for me?"


Ivan G. said...

"Roses are red, and violets are purple...sugar is sweet, and so's maple syr'ple..."

Only Rog could get away with a lyric like that.

Anonymous said...

I interviewed Roy Clark last year, and he told me that he had a tape somewhere of him and Roger Miller sitting around the backyard BBQ singing songs and telling stories. I told him I'd give my right arm for a copy...I'm keeping an eye on my mailbox and a saw handy.