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

Annals of Crime #3

Original Caption:

Los Angeles -- Twenty-six-year-old Roger Wing Whittier of North Bend, Oregon, lies dead on the stage of the Follies Theater, shot to death in the empty burlesque house in a gunfight December 1st with police who tried to arrest him as he caressed a picture of a dancer he called "my redheaded angel." Police said he apparently was crazed with love for the dancer, identified as Loretta Miller. An anonymous telephone call sent police to the theater at 6 A.M. One detective's ear was nicked by a shot from Whittier when officers told him to drop his gun. (1954)