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 Friends of Flagg #6


Booth Tarkington

"I once called him the foremost novelist of his time -- this was at one of the Dutch Treat luncheons at Keene's in the early days when I was the Czar of the Club. Rupert Hughes indignantly replied, 'There can't be any one foremost novelist!' Very few people knew that Tark wanted to be an artist. In my portfolio I have a couple of his drawings, and they are terrible! Very good thing he learned to do something he should do. In his last years, I understand, he became a collector of 'art'! I only hope he could still see well enough to know what he was buying."

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