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

Newspapermen #12

Westbrook Pegler


Vanwall said...

"It stinks. The whole thing stinks. You Stink. And you know what I think of Eleanor Roosevelt." Altho a lampoonish view of Pegler, it suffices.

erik hogstrom said...

"It takes gall to sit down to a typewriter at a certain hour every afternoon to confront a long mile of white paper and presume to tell the people what it is all about to the extent of from 500 to 1,000 words. Tell them what what is all about, says you. Oh, just anything and everything."
-- Westbrook Pegler

As a working journalist, I cannot even begin to say what a hero Westbrook Pegler is to me.