“How long until there’s nothing left at all?” This is the season, this is the time of lamentation. I suspect that bluegrass, perhaps along with just the plain old blues, might be the only two musical genres fit to express the sentiments of the remnant of the healthy and the sane, we who are left…
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Superstition abounds. You see it all around you in this hysterical age of fear. The person, alone in their car, wearing a soiled, supposed-to-be-disposable mask. Another, feverishly wiping down furniture. So many others believing in every media narrative designed to provoke sheepish, irrational fear. __________ It emerges from a denial of death, or more precisely,…
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