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

When Legends Gather #551


Darryl F. Zanuck, Otto Preminger and Gloria Swanson embrace their biggest fan, Henri Langlois.

3 comments :

Kraxpelax said...

My brand new Music Blog:

http://eutonal.blogspot.com/

SONNET XXXIX FOR KATIE

I went downtown, saw Katie in the nude
on Common Avenue, detracted soltitude
as it were, like a dream-state rosely hued,
like no one else could see her; DAMN! I phewed;

was reciprokelly then, thank heaven, viewed,
bestowed unique hard-on! but NOT eschewed,
contrair-ee-lee, she took a somewhat rude
'n readidy attude of Sex Prelude; it BREWED!

And for a start, i hiccuped "Hi!, imbued
with Moooood! She toodledooed: "How queued
your awe-full specie-ally-tee, Sir Lewd,
to prove (alas!), to have me finely screwed,

and hopef'lly afterwards beloved, wooed,
alive, huh? Don't you even DO it, Duu-uuude!"

My Poetry Blog

http://singleswingle.blogspot.com/

More...

Adiós, mis vacas! Que pasa en esta temporada de tristeza?
La soledad se cultiva en las ciudades;
viva la muerte.
Uno no debe imaginar que el hombre es bueno.
El paisaje se despierta en un fiel espejo, pregunte.

La noche ha porches de la siesta en ruinas con pistacho.
Débiles enemigos se disipa amigos sin
valor. La calle es corta.
Hay falta de coherencia, la esperanza y la fe.
Todas las puertas evitadas saludan: No pasarán.

My tentatively spanish poetry blog;

http://hollb.blogspot.com/

Portuguese:

http://kraxport.blogspot.com/

Typically Swedish Next Door Girls Collection För Your Boyfriend's LAPTOP!

:o)

My Babe Misogyn Wallpapers:

http://screenfonds.blogspot.com/

My philosophy:

http://windormirrow.blogspot.com/

My Philosophy:

http://windormirrow.blogspot.com/

The Prize 2009... Peter Carey? :o)

Feel free to announce your blog on mine.

- Peter Ingestad, Sweden

Kimberly Lindbergs said...

Spam tastes bad. Even when fried.

Tom Sutpen said...

Oh, I agree. But I let this one through . . . after some inner deliberation . . . because the guy's only plugging his writing and not, say, cheap Cialis from an overseas pharmacy. That kind of spam I can live with, so long as it's a rare occurrence.