I shouldn't be telling you this because it's private and possibly hurtful, to myself, but then it's a two way street, I tell things, other people enjoy hearing it, it's how the news and information industry survives. I still want to be 'The Kid.' It's a fantasy, I believe it's organic, universal, and in theory, a person, any person, could be any age, like me, I'm turning 57, and I have this need to be something called 'The Kid.' There is work involved in this matter, and acquisitions.
I'm in the final decision stage of buying an electric guitar, a cheap copy of the famous Fender Stratocaster. There is a choice of six colors, two different styles of pick guards all shaped like a squashed squid, and two types of fret board to choose, white maple with black dots, or rosewood with suspicious white spots marking positions for the beginning guitar student. Leaning towards blond, but am still thinking. Rosewood might possibly better personify an arrant rock musician of perpetual youth and flair. A total insane glutton for clarity as I am, the choice of candy colored guitars are for sale on ebay, mail order, postage paid, ninety dollars for the cheapest imitation of a Strat available to anyone, anywhere, on Earth or Outer Space. The God-like power of global economics makes this sort of shit possible, both the product and the living rock fantasy enabled by one's electric bauble.
To toughen up what may seem like some weak connections, buying the guitar and revitalizing my pilfered, affected alter ego, 'The Kid,' are like a heroic couplet, if my life was a poem. It isn't, it hasn't been, but metaphors are here, for sale, like Hebrew National weenies from a stainless steel cart on wheels with umbrella and portly, mustachioed vendor. There have been pentillions of archetypal 'Kids,' ranging from James Dean to Marlon Brando to Pancho Villa to Joan Jett and why, even, to some degree, Debbie Harry, though she's so, so a class act I'm not completely comfortable using her as a model, though she makes a splendid one. All right, already, David Bowies 's 'Ziggy Stardust' was about a person who was filling the shoes of a 'The Kid' by being a cool looking guitar wizard. Countless 'The Kids' were viewed looking cool and callow in a pool hall, hustling for a living in the asphalt jungle. I still plan on being an incarnation of 'The Kid,' and I am counting on the purchase, mail order, of a fake Stratocaster.
Why, why,why? I need to scratch an itch, and the scratcher is an electric guitar, probably the one that is candy apple red, with a blond maple fretboard. It's a large back scratcher. The need to fill out an internal paradigm, one that synthesized through media presentation of 'the kid' archetypes, include the hallowed Sid Vicious, is all together valid and real, but is in fact no different from a permanent obsession with nobility, such as believing you deserved to be a knight of the round table, if you were putzing your way through the times of King Arthur. Rock and roll obsessions are eminently more practical.
Buying the guitar is a form of sexual perversion, replete with anticipation, guilt feelings, a ritual, and even the disruptive thought patterns that could disrupt an ordinary career, if I had one. It has become my career to buy shit, cheap generic copies of a iconic things, things that reflect what American used to be, such as a perpetual youth being sassy in a free representative democracy made for fast cars, easy poon, young men with big dicks, and young women eager to give it up to a 'Kid.' Of any age. Mine. I'm the Kid. Will complete purchase of electric guitar by weeks end. Will play the fucker. Will proceed as The Kid.
I'm in the final decision stage of buying an electric guitar, a cheap copy of the famous Fender Stratocaster. There is a choice of six colors, two different styles of pick guards all shaped like a squashed squid, and two types of fret board to choose, white maple with black dots, or rosewood with suspicious white spots marking positions for the beginning guitar student. Leaning towards blond, but am still thinking. Rosewood might possibly better personify an arrant rock musician of perpetual youth and flair. A total insane glutton for clarity as I am, the choice of candy colored guitars are for sale on ebay, mail order, postage paid, ninety dollars for the cheapest imitation of a Strat available to anyone, anywhere, on Earth or Outer Space. The God-like power of global economics makes this sort of shit possible, both the product and the living rock fantasy enabled by one's electric bauble.
To toughen up what may seem like some weak connections, buying the guitar and revitalizing my pilfered, affected alter ego, 'The Kid,' are like a heroic couplet, if my life was a poem. It isn't, it hasn't been, but metaphors are here, for sale, like Hebrew National weenies from a stainless steel cart on wheels with umbrella and portly, mustachioed vendor. There have been pentillions of archetypal 'Kids,' ranging from James Dean to Marlon Brando to Pancho Villa to Joan Jett and why, even, to some degree, Debbie Harry, though she's so, so a class act I'm not completely comfortable using her as a model, though she makes a splendid one. All right, already, David Bowies 's 'Ziggy Stardust' was about a person who was filling the shoes of a 'The Kid' by being a cool looking guitar wizard. Countless 'The Kids' were viewed looking cool and callow in a pool hall, hustling for a living in the asphalt jungle. I still plan on being an incarnation of 'The Kid,' and I am counting on the purchase, mail order, of a fake Stratocaster.
Why, why,why? I need to scratch an itch, and the scratcher is an electric guitar, probably the one that is candy apple red, with a blond maple fretboard. It's a large back scratcher. The need to fill out an internal paradigm, one that synthesized through media presentation of 'the kid' archetypes, include the hallowed Sid Vicious, is all together valid and real, but is in fact no different from a permanent obsession with nobility, such as believing you deserved to be a knight of the round table, if you were putzing your way through the times of King Arthur. Rock and roll obsessions are eminently more practical.
Buying the guitar is a form of sexual perversion, replete with anticipation, guilt feelings, a ritual, and even the disruptive thought patterns that could disrupt an ordinary career, if I had one. It has become my career to buy shit, cheap generic copies of a iconic things, things that reflect what American used to be, such as a perpetual youth being sassy in a free representative democracy made for fast cars, easy poon, young men with big dicks, and young women eager to give it up to a 'Kid.' Of any age. Mine. I'm the Kid. Will complete purchase of electric guitar by weeks end. Will play the fucker. Will proceed as The Kid.
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