Ok I get it.

Cormac McCarthy, who if you do not know is a great writer. I will not bore you by telling you what he wrote or try to show you “hey look I have read his books” just trust me on this one (upside down ?).
But there was something which struck me in a quote I read of his and it is even more poignant because he is not one of those authors who just jumps all over every publicity opportunity he gets, matter of fact I would bet he has done a handful of “major” type interviews, if that. But this is not meant to belabor Mr. McCarthy’s artistic recluse nature. He says in the interview: McCarthy reveals that he is not a fan of authors who do not “deal with issues of life and death.”

Oh absolutely. I guess in a sense we should post that all over he internet and tack it to walls that can be tacked upon. If you are not writing sincerely about life’s important stuff or its sad inevitable end then you are a wanker. McCarthy takes it easy on them by saying he is “not a fan” but I will say I downright cannot stand their art. Might be a great person but their art is for tits or is not art at all but just some stuff to do to pass the time.

*Which is ok but do not call yourself an artist. That is like someone who plays a UFC video game walking around calling themselves a Bad Ass. Artists are warriors on a serious battleground of the mind, heart, and soul.

So many people pass over the later, death, because it is the one, the in-arguable. A thing which the love of another or the hand of your child can only even slightly balm. But much like the 100 people standing in a river of crap and one out of the 100 is yelling “I am standing in a river of crap!” When finally another of his comrades taps him on he shoulder and says “guess what buddy? We are all standing in a river of crap. Get over it.” (I actually just made that story up or used a similar one often but you get it.) We are all, thankfully or thankless, in this mean old world together.

So pulling back from he Abyss before it stares back into you consider this: anytime someone is WANKING off on the radio, taking up precious space doing some country song Bullstuff reading off this stereotypical list of things that make them country they are wasting their and worse YOUR TIME. Hank Sr. did no such thing.

And more to the point.

“Why wait any longer for the world to begin?” said Dylan. Of course one could say this was a play on a lover within the song but it serves my purposes nicely.
Why, indeed, wait any longer? Life is going right now. We are spinning around the sun at over 30,000 miles an hour and with or without you or me the earth will keep moving on this path.
Better get with the getting on now and not forfeit this special, special time.

Make sure to do some of this if you are so inclined:
1) Avoid bad art, learn the difference, and seek out great things to look at, listen to, absorb, etc., etc.
2) Avoid negative, shallow, vapid people in favor of good folks, learn the difference, and love them hard until you cannot do so anymore.
3) Whenever the chance provides itself, and learn to recognize these times, help someone else in any way you can. Please. It makes a bunch more of a difference than you think.
4) Be your self, learn the difference between this person and the fake prescribed one the world/society/our silly vapid culture is trying to pigeon-hole you into, and live that person’s life in whatever direction it leads you.
5) Take time to sit and just listen to the earth surrounding you. Really listen it is telling you somethings.
That’s it and if anyone ever asks you something like “why do you do the things you do” or “why can’t you be more like us” or some other insolent notion throw this in their face:
“I’m the one that’s got to die when it’s time for me to die.”
If that doesn’t shut em up then just put them on permanent mute.
Jimi said that last part and it has always worked for me when someone had the balls, which 99% of them do not, to even try to fence me in.

The line it is drawn errr blurred

The line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast
The slow one will later be fast
And the present now will soon be the past
The order is rapidly fading
The first one now will later be last
For the times, they are a changing

Bet Bob Dylan didn’t see all these changes coming way back in 1964. Sure his song is very topical for its time and makes excellent, perhaps the most excellent, commentary on the era, at least that is what the index of pretty much any book you pick up about the 1960’s will tell you. But now, flip that on its head, and fast forward to 2011 and that same artist could really be singing about his career if he weren’t,errr , Bob Dylan. But Bob Dylan as a young 20 something in 2011 sure as sand could be singing about himself. Except the times are not changing, they have changed.
I am working on helping other artists adjust to these changes and move into new, possibly uncomfortable, areas. And the question came up with a person I work with, it was asked by me, and made me think of the lyric above. “Where does the line start or end between musician and promoter, or artist and online publicist, or recording artist and manager?” It took me back a bit. I had posed a question to myself. Great I was talking to myself? But would I answer myself.
Where does this line begin and end? By being other roles to other people was I jumping into new skin? Was I being this person part of the time and then this person the other times and then I realized, in these crazy times I was being kind of like my dad’s definition of a man. He used to say, when I asked when I would be a man, “A man is a man when a man is called for.” I would always go “huh?” and pretend that I understood. But we are in this same conundrum. And here is the answer to the question.
“the line is now erased.”