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

Artists in Action #520


Ernest Hemingway kicks a can

7 comments :

Frederic said...

Goal !

mister muleboy said...

I'm sorry, but that's Gooooo-oooooo--ooooo-ooooo--ooooooooo-oal.


-- Señor Univision

Brian said...

If only he had shot the can full of holes and kicked himself in the head instead of the other way around.

Tommy O'C said...

Kicked the can before he kicked the bucket. sorry...

capewood said...

Ernest Hemmingway kicks a can. Sounds like a good title for a novel.

Christopher said...

burrr..wish I was in Cuba playing FUTbol!

rookgaroo said...

I wish I had known this guy. He kicked more can than a single photograph could ever hope to portray.