One of the better tracks off the great Dead City Radio LP. Much of the material on the record ended up printed in Tornado Alley. They still make the CD. The book is long gone. So’s Bill, for that matter.

Happy thanksgiving, everybody!

Christmas had me mildly depressed. I snapped out of it. A single true thought rose and brought me cheer: if my major concerns circa the end of 2007 were presented to my past self at the end of 2006, they would be 100% incomprehensible. Not bad for a year.

To my mind, the single best working gauge of success is how totally, completely far away you can get from all the things you’ve ever known. To rush, like Marcus Garvey, into the fearful unknown. It don’t matter if it’s good, bad, or just plain boring. Only so long as it’s newly weird.

It’s obvious that my cycle of constant churn has, if anything, accelerated. This has been going on since, I guess, late 2004. All I’ve ever tried to do is keep on keepin’ on. What else can a poor boy do?

2005 was chaos, 2006 was just stupid, and 2007 was the single most insane time of my life. Further reflection makes me wonder if 2008 isn’t to be the year where, at last, it calms down. This is probably the proper course– how much longer can I be a psychedelic gypsy without it getting a little pathetic?

The New Year begins differently than any before it: for the first time ever, I know what I want and what I have to do. So watch out, O Lord, there’s a mutiny in Heaven and You owe me a favor. We march to victory on a road of bones.

–

Undercutting everything that I’ve written, here’s a picture from two nights ago that could have been taken at any point between 1995 and now:

Ah, adulthood.