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

Weekend #3


Timmy said...

RFK thinking about Hoffa

estiv said...

God. Uncle Bobby and the kids.

There's a story that at first he was so lost in his grief that he didn't understand that there had to be a public funeral, that the death of POTUS couldn't be left only to a private family service. A friend knocked on his door, and he answered with calm bitterness, "Hi, come on in. My brother's been murdered and we're watching the funeral on TV."