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

The Heretofore Unmentioned #102

Frederik Pohl


Peter L. Winkler said...

Still alive, still writing. Met him once at a book signing and we chatted briefly. I had all the early '70s Ballantine editions of his books, including the Pohl-Kornbluth collaborations. He was was very gentlemanly. A very underrated, intelligent writer.

kkerrane said...

I still remember Pohl's THE SPACE MERCHANTS, which imagined a U. S. Congress with representatives from GE, Ford, and Johnson & Johnson. It also featured right-wingers trying to root conservationists ("Consies") as disloyal Americans. The book was written over 50 years ago, but the great satire still hits close to home.