“Tombstone Blues”
Bob Dylan
Highway 61 Revisited – 1965
What a way to go! West! The blues redux, via the garage and French symbolism. A rock journalist's wet dream. If anybody thought that Dylan embodied American music in his folk guise, just wait for this. Hit me in the jaw with three centuries of tradition. Hit me in the stomach with visceral emotion. Hit me in the head with blissful nonsense. Only Dylan can write gibberish quite so delectably. And they disown him for it?! Stupid pieces of shit with their heads so far up their asses they think shit smells good. They don't realize revolution when it chops their useless heads off – they sit “worthlessly alone”. It's the “geometry of innocent flesh on the bone” that penetrates the minds of a nation, not the anti-capitalist subversion bullshit those desperately holding onto an opinion would have you believe; the truth that “the sun's not yellow, it's chicken” rather than the "fetishization of commodity" that is so dripping with the disease-laden detritus of pretense. Fuck protest. Law is the expression of freedom.
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