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 Madmen of the 20th Century #30

Screaming Lord Sutch


swac said...

Hmm...he didn't seem to have any trouble getting on an airplane.

Fred said...

I used to have his Hands of the Ripper album. He got practically every great musician in London at the time to record with him, although his work sounded like it was recorded at a very drunken and drugged out party jam, the kind of thing where you listen to the tape the next day and burn it, which was probably the case.

Kreisler said...

This guy was a total arse who spent most of his time gurning at by-elections. Worst kind of English eccentric.