Sunday, November 20, 2005

Look man, you can’t tell me what Bob Dylan’s music is about. I know what Bob Dylan’s music is about. His music is about me and my life man. Bob wrote all his songs about me. For example, the song Blowin in the wind. That song’s about an acid trip I had in a hotel in Haight-Asbury in 1967. You know where I found that out? In a hotel in Haight-Asbury in 1967. I found a lot of things out in Haight-Asbury. I found a lot of things out in 1967 too. Far out man.

Stepping out of the hippie personae for a moment.

I reflected tonight during one of my boring stories, that if someone tells you “Funny,” after one of your stories, that there is a good chance it isn’t funny.

I like the dates and almonds at Whole Foods market. Whole Foods market is a consortium of criminal elements and communists dedicated to the proposition that suburban people will believe they won’t die if they eat organic flour and sushi. Japanese hippies die of cancer too.

I watched the first half of the Scorsese Bob Dylan documentary. Excellent. Really good. I’ve never been a big Dylan fan, but it held my attention. I’m sure this has been commented on, but I think my impression of Dylan is an artist with a disinterest and disregard for being “the voice of a generation,” even though that’s precisely what he is and was. I like that about him. I think principally, he just wanted to be a songwriter and musician. Probably wanted to be famous too. I hope that Joan Baez gets more time in part two, because her impersonation of Dylan was funny and I think she has a second career as a mimic lined up any time she wants it.

The Deep Ellum film festival is going on. See more at

I’ve only seen two films, Breakfast on Pluto and a documentary called Border Bandits. There was also a short called the Blind Football Fan. All excellent. Maybe I’ll write more about them later. Breakfast on Pluto is the which-part-is-true-which-is-lie story of the life of an Irish, punk rock, IRA connected, pacifist, groupie, Catholic boy to man to woman. It’s a very good life and makes for great art. Director of the Crying Game, Neil Jordan directs.

The documentary is the story of murders committed by Texas Rangers in 1915 in the Texas Valley. It’s very good and I hope it gets some kind of commercial distribution.


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