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

They Were an Item #27

The Burtons


Vanwall said...

"I'm sorry, but it is my nature." Hard to tell just who was the Frog and who was the Scorpion here, tho.

Tom Sutpen said...

I think they took turns (though Burton, arguably, came out the worse).

Vanwall said...

Yeah, I imagine poor Susan Strasberg had a more than intimate look at Burton's sting - the dark side of his genius was indeed black as hell.