Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground is one of the best songs ever written. God bless Willie Nelson.
21.09.2025 05:32
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Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground is one of the best songs ever written. God bless Willie Nelson.
One of the best songs ever written
Bob Dylan on the road slinging songs that matter now as much as ever—Masters of War, Blind Willie McTell, Desolation Row
Really solid set. Love how these arrangements have evolved just this year alone.
Found my spirit animal
Junior year angst is the best angst. This was mine, along with Bringing it All Back Home.
Sorry but I rate poetry not on inspirational wittiness but the degree to which it ravages me
All this talk of suits reminded me of this: “Clive never wore neckties under the conviction that all of the political mischief in the nation was created by men who wore neckties.”—Jim Harrison
We need more stories about congressional cannibalism
americanliterature.com/author/mark-...
Sometimes even the president of the United States sometimes must have to stand naked
So this is why tech bros built those bunkers
Every day on the way home from
My office I pawn another
Of my Spring clothes. Every day
I come home from the river bank
Drunk. Everywhere I go, I owe
Money for wine.
—Tu Fu (a snippet of "By the Winding River I")
Sensing strong Rasputin vibes
It’s a new dawn for art. Time for teeth.
Algorithms are the new carnival barkers touting a full commodification of art—books, film, tv, music. By design algorithms programatize mediocrity, banality, vacuity, genetically incapable of transcendence, revelation, silence. Prophets of poshlost. Overlords of unironic kitsch.
Charlie McCoy was one and from what I understand whomever they could wrangle up outside the studio. Kooper slapped the tambourine.
Hey @bobdylan I know you’re not Santa (tho you’ve donned his hat) but what I’d love for Xmas is a Dewayne Blackwell cover. Love your Basement and Outlaw takes of Mr. Blue. Ever considered doing “Friends in Low Places”? It makes me feel not so low. Blessings to you and yours.
another one of those days when Wigwam is my favorite Dylan tune
My son's school play. Macbeth. In the old opera house from 1902. Paint chipping off the walls. Velveteen drapes. Wooden theater seats, older than airplanes. Reminds me of something straight out of Northern Exposure.
I’ll trade you irrealis for borealis
I don’t believe in modal verbs
Dear lord
The Newport electricians union
Many of my favorite artists were tragically flawed. Just like my country, and the religion I was born into. Just like every honest person I’ve ever met. As flawed as the clothes I wear, the food I eat. As flawed as those who cast judgements outward, but never ever inward.
No matter how tepid, tame, or true a critique of the publishing industry might be, you can always anticipate a tsunami of superciliousness among the aftershocks.
Bartleby the change you want to see in the world
Student from my bob dylan class sent this:
