Byline: Famous Monsters Part 8: The Bride of the Monster
Looks back at her lover and laughs.
As if all good things in the night go on without consequence.
Either way, anyway, it's all okay.
Especially in a system where aesthetic worth is based on units shipped. The differences between getting-it and seeing-right-through-it become heir-apparent.
Apparently information is controlled in houses of government anxious about depression. Deflation economics was never my strong suit.
I best digress and stick to dissecting the hopes of every hopeless kid. Like a scarecrow of rock and roll making sure that Johnny Law doesn't catch up with Johnny Rebel.
Scaring sparrows for amusement is plastic enthusiasm. It's not something real. Like music.
Music does something special to those that have experienced near death situations. It's hard to explain. The bylines help.
Still. Don't confuse live music and art performance. They are both the same thing.
Spray painting on rooftops in hot neighborhoods is a whole other story. You won't catch me atop Motorcycle Club digs where wheels of soul sip sanctioned sauce.
I'm too old trying to return to forever fusing cool blue grooves with funky edges. In this area of operation no think tank commandos are needed to trademark words like success. And hip.
You see, all spoils garnered by pen are ultimately judged by their penmanship.
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