« An Epic Minute, A Minute Epic | Main | And Because It is My Heart »




well, there's all kinds of precedent for that particular type of mascot. neal cassady, for one. lots of artists are happy to hitch their wagon to someone else's ball of flame. I can't decide if this a natural law of attraction, self-conservation or just plain bloodsucking.

money's relative. it might help post bail, or hire lawyers, or pay for cushy rehab, but it ultimately can't save a person from themselves.

what pisses me off is when self-destruction is sold as authenticity by the industry, like the lifestyle has artistic merit for its own sake. kids buy that lie, and it's too late for them when they find out there's nothing romantic about it.

obviously, a hot button of mine.

The comments to this entry are closed.