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

An Illustrated History of American Labor #2

Club wielding police charge a picket line at the Gera Mills in Passaic, New Jersey;
injuring man, woman and child alike (1926)


Feta said...

Holy crap. I used to live in Passaic.

kittman said...

How did they do that back in those days? Nobody ever loses their hat regardless of how rough it gets.

Vanwall said...

Hats were made for regular use back then and haircuts were different, I guess. Still don't help much when a billy conks your noggin.