I haven’t mentioned Jim Morrison here on the Auld El Jay since (according to LJ Archive) since the sixteenth of January, which was only in passing while talking about Ronnie Drew. Before that, the last mention of him of any substance was on 9th December, the day after his birthday, and only in response to a news article. Those of you unaccustomed to my ways might think "Ah, she no longer cares. She’s over it, she’s moved on." As if I fucking could. Just show me how, etc, etc.
Actually, I only started onto that path today thanks to Bill Hicks. I finished reading American Scream (which is a biography of Bill) by Cynthia True while I was in Starbucks this lunchtime, and I turned to the Igby’s 1993 bootlegs and listened with new ears. In some ways it was the same as the last twenty times I’ve listened to that gig, but somehow just a little extra context gave some of it a new, real edge. Of course, I missed him. At the end of this month, it is fifteen fucking years since Bill stepped into reality from this ridiculous dream we call ‘life’. Letterman finally showed the censored show he cut in late ’93. Thanks to the wonders of Counts of the Netherworld, I’d already heard the set many times, though not in that exact form. In fact, I think it’s pretty flat and the ‘let’s hunt and kill Billy Ray Cyrus’ bits seem a little ‘off’ outside the wider context of a full Hicks set. Mind you, fifteen years later and we’re still dealing with the deplorably mediocre Cyrus family…
I started thinking about people who see the world as it is and say so, the people who call it as they see it, who see the world logically. Bill talked about the rise of 24-hour news networks spilling their sensationalist scaremongering into our lives, scaring us all into silence and compliance. How about now, kids?
Then I started quite naturally thinking about Jim, who I always believed (and I suspect always will believe) was just trying to tell us the truth. Disagree with his methods and style by all means (honestly, non-Doors fans, I get your criticisms, I really do), but the man was just trying to tell us the truth about the world. That he, unlike Bill, held onto the chemicals long after they ceased being useful, doesn’t make his truth telling any less valid, it just makes some of it clouded and cut short our supply. Incidentally, I really think that, had he survived and lived, your man Morrison would’ve been the conscience of his generation in a way only Lennon could compete with. Who else could and who has since? McCartney? Jagger? Clapton? Any of those fuckers who made their peace with the Establishment in exchange for money and privilege? Can you imagine Morrison accepting anything from the US government? Can you imagine the hay he would’ve made out of Watergate? Can you imagine that Lennon would accept anything from the Queen after sending the last thing back? No.
Interesting, isn’t it? That these men who tried to tell us the truth ended up…. er… DEAD… while the ones who told us our cuddly bedtime stories about frogs and got into bed with the devil… oh hey! They go to polo matches and they get knighthoods and they have ‘witty banter’ with Brad Pitt and his waxwork lady. I find that to be an interesting coincidence.
The only person I felt sorry for during the Hicks set was Marky Mark, if only because it seems like he’s actually tried to become something better, something more useful to the cultural and creative destiny of our society. I think he might even understand better than most people what Bill was going on about. He wasn’t talking about actually killing Billy Ray or Mark, it was about what the fuck are we letting this shit into our lives for?
I occasionally think that I should become a stand up like Bill, because I really feel this stuff still needs to be said. It needs to be SHOUTED OUT TO THE FUCKING WORLD UNTIL THEY FUCKING LISTEN, but I’d just end up regurgitating all Bill’s act, and Denis Leary already did that, the cunt. Oh yeah: Leary stole pretty much everything that made you laugh from Bill, including the angry guy persona, and he’s now a movie and TV star… and Bill’s fucking dead. If anyone tells me that the world is a just and right place, I will merely point this small, disgusting fact out as the proof that it’s REALLY NOT.
There are real problems in the world. I don’t just mean the economy being shit or genocide. I mean the WHOLE FUCKING THING. Even if I did stand up on a stage and say so, who would listen and who would care? We killed the guys who told us the truth and now we couldn’t respond to the truth if it came and kicked us in the face. WHICH IT HAS!
They tried to tell us the fucking truth, and they died. What does that tell you about the fucking world? If one more Oxbridge-educated upper middle class cunt tries to tell me to be scared of anything, I’ll be after them, because I’m not going to be scared anymore. Life is but a dream. Viva la revolucion.