you don’t mind occasionally a stab of pedantry or comic amusement, but I wholehardly approve of Your comments here and have a very very difficult time with it, the sadly faded 1960’s remind me a quote loosely described a Saturday night in this lost America of the lost soul where everybody everybody feverishly is going somewhere , but really nowhere.
It is the air conditioned nightmare of the ugly American, who’s darkness is at noon, the hottest time in this heart of darkness , where so many gifted took their life, Hart crane coming back, coming back from Cuba the last time, the same cuba which drove Hemingway to madness, and his daughter by consequence, husband of Caresse Crosby expatriate grandson of international banker and black sun publisher , where Ginsburg said all the best minds of our generation driven mad, what else is new ?
We striving and starving expressionist of the 21 st century need more then an occasional bread crumb like the New Deal giving paltry soup kitchen handouts.
Most having the suburban house with 2 kids andn2 cars and looking toward their golden years had it in the sixties so close yet so far, nestling in their most cherished absolute minimalism:
That of the promise of otherwise perfectly legit users of modern versions of absenthe, the coke infused in that well established product, of the acid test of kesey, of Huxley’ s indulgence with magic and the shrooms and the grand vision of even that noble Dylan whose Nobel prize people noblesse oblige the valuables lost therein , thereby.
K. you said a few months ago I’m always welcome here. Well here it goes.
We’ve got soul man, along with the noble savages, those whose blues captured the universal soul, but sold out man. Sold out to the commercial system, big time, the monkees were among the first the pitiful tv show that bought into the American dream.
And what that is? The golden arch like the one at the end of the yellow brick road, promising a very neat and hygienic funeral, with a minimum of inconceniemce and pain to all those who have been unable to settle into the mystical meaning that which is base to the nihilistic posture . as though it is a sort of chronically manifested revival show, in a kind of circus held briefly by the owner of city lights , a light captured only by some who can make s mountaintop into their comfort space.
No. Coming back from the chocolate steppe of Asia, shared by a Catholic priest in his Asian journals , highlights omitting scenes such as:
A new practice of snatching children , one an old woman apprehended in the knick of time, ( and this addressed only to pure heart spiritualist to whine fame and fortune has become as opaque as that through which darkly is still a shemantic option, au-vigour), she tries to snap the baby so that, so that, within her convoluted mind she still, secularized Catholic( where Jesus warned about harming babies),
snatching kids become a commercial enterprise, slitting their bodies open while alive, and removing valuable transplanteable organs , kidneys going for 200M, lungs, livers , you name it, and then retain the nerve of attending holy mass on Sunday.
Probably without confession.
This description for only one purpose, to compare it with the American dream.
The choice is not difficult, albeit extreme.
The 60’s sellout really fortifies the connection between east and western values also approaching another absolute, that consisting within the vagrancies of their one time equivolence of the loss of the soul.