it is indeed true but i really won't believe it until i can gnaw on the skull of the good doctor. it's something we don't really talk about enough around our inner circles. the meaning that Dr. Thompson brought to us and the sense of peace in knowing he was still waving the freak banner.
we don't dwell on these things until it is no longer a TRUTH. not a thought of it until we are left alone tending the embers.
nothing morose or melodramtaic in these lines, jsut a reflection on the man whose literature enthralled my attention during those salad days of my university years. sneaking into the five floor library complex to read the words that might get me a glimpse of the man behind the black curtain.
now, i can see, that the truth behind it all is that we were stoking the fire all along by ourselves. Dr. Thompson was just an idea then as he is now. he was our good excuse to tempt the fates and the resolve of our bodies against our minds. let us not be sorrowful or regretful for what he or we have done.
instead, let us raise our glasses of fine Tennessee whisky to our fallen comrade. and let it be said that "it never got weird enough for me" . . .
mahalo
