Are You There God? It’s Me, Elton.

Dear God,

Boy, can I sympathize with you !! I got this letter from some loony bird today saying “Oh Elton…your song ‘I’m Still Standing’ inspires me to keep on going….blah blah blah.”, then something about being unemployed and having seven kids. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Probably some big fat cow like Madonna or something. Ha Ha, kidding big fellow. I love all my fans but really, what a bunch of needy nellies !! Like I said, I can imagine what your life must be like. We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I.

Anyway, I’m writing about my husband, David Furnish. I’m worried about him, Lord. I mean, most of the time he’s a good bloke, but sometimes he’s just so naughty….not that I’m complaining, but sometimes I worry that one morning I’ll wake up on a bed of clouds and David will be turning over on a spit in some icky, hot place that isn’t Florida, if you catch my drift.

So let me get to the point: I thought of a deal that could benefit both of us. If you let a few things slide and make sure David gets through into heaven, I could arrange for Bernie Taupin to re-write the lyrics to ‘Candle in the Wind’ as a tribute to you. Seriously, look what it did for Lady Di. One minute she’s getting dumped by a closet-case like Prince Chuck, next minute she’s “England’s rose”. Not that you need any PR, but a little image buffing never hurt anyone, y’know?

And don’t think this means you’ve got to let Bernie into heaven. That little prick has already gotten more than he deserves, as far as I’m concerned. I mean, with me he writes “Rocket Man”. Without me? “We Built This City on Rock and Roll” Eeesh.

Anyway, give it some thought and have your people get in touch with my people.

Fabulously yours,

Elton.

Who Says All the Great Art is Made by Pinkos and Sissies?

Like me, you may be tired of the assumption that in order to create art of beauty and lasting quality one must be a card-carrying member of what has come to be known as the “liberal elite”. The sensible critic might ask whether somehow a craving for tofu and a predilection for sitting in lotus position is a prerequisite for transcendent self expression. Be assured, gentle reader, that I do not subscribe to that school of thought !!! To break this hurtful prejudice, I now present a critical overview of some of the fine visual art adorning the albums of a true, red-blooded, meat eating American artist. Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Ted Nugent.

******

Cat Scratch Fever (1977)

The muted blue tones surrounding the self-portrait on “Cat Scratch Fever” (1977) are typical of his late Detroit period, drawing attention to the face. Much like the Mona Lisa, the observer must struggle to classify its enigmatic expression: on the surface it appears calm, yet there is a subtle intensity and a hint of some compelling emotional conflict that can never be precisely pinpointed.

******

Scream Dream (1980)

1980’s “Scream Dream” represents a departure from stark self-portrait to a more surrealist sensibility. While the style may have changed, however, the emotional ambiguity that characterizes Nugent’s best work remains. Two distinct interpretations of this work are possible. The first is that the picture is a commentary on the thin line between man and machine in modern culture with the detailed portrayal of each muscle and sinew in Ted’s rugged form drawing the observer’s attention to the mechanical qualities of the human body and blurring the distinction between player and instrument.

The second interpretation is that Ted is agitated because he’s got two guitars but no hands to play them with.

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If You Can’t Lick ‘Em….Lick ‘Em (198

Nugent’s next step continued his progression away from self-portrait in its purest form. Given the depth and richness of the character study on the cover of “If You Can’t Lick ‘em…Lick ‘em” (1988), only the most knowledgeable critic might perceive that this genre represented a true departure for Ted. Its depiction of a world weary and yet proud stance captures the dignity of the female boxer in the way no trashy modern film ever could. Some critics have referred to a subtle sexual provocativeness but I have a suspicion that this reflects the peculiar obsessions of those critics rather than anything intended by the artist.

The Gospel According to Ray

Readings from “Light My Fire: My Life With the Doors”by Ray Manzarek

THE WORD:

from chapter 4 “The Beach and Lsd”, page 117

The negatives of marijuana were few. The positives were delicious. Relaxation, increased perception, color enhancement, delight in food, delight in sex, increased logical brain connections - “Oh, I get it now !” and “I understand” and “I never saw the connection between those two things before” and a general overall groovy feeling, as we said in the sixties. Of course those logical brain connections are exactly what your religious leaders and your federal, state and local government officials do not want you to make. They’d be out of a job if you actually looked behind the curtain. They definitely don’t want you opening the doors of perception.

MEDITATION: The hallmark of true wisdom is that when you hear it, it resonates. It’s like you already knew it, but someone finally put it into words for you. When I read this, it reminded me of this guy Guido who I knew in college. He used to like to smoke a little weed (or “arsenio” as we used to call it back in the day). Anyway, Guido was backpacking in the dark continent and there were these two rogue types who’d just arrived from South Africa and they were whispering to themselves about managing to smuggle gold out of the country at a potentially fabulous profit. “What about you Guido, old chap, have you come across any gold here in Africa?”. “Totally” Guido said, “The other day in the market I bought eight ounces of awesome bud for like seventy-five cents”.

Like those two somewhat befuddled smugglers, I have to admit, I’d never seen the logical connection between precious metal and smokable intoxicants before. But that’s because the door of perception had never been opened to me. In today’s passage, Ray is giving all of us the key to that door.

Let’s get one thing completely clear. In no way is Ray saying that drugs are the key to enlightenment. Except maybe in the “literal” way. But that’s exactly the way the government wants you to read it. Only an unenlightened rube would actually read it that way. What he’s really saying is work hard, live a healthy lifestyle and educate yourself. Its just that smoking tons of weed seems to make those things easier to accomplish. Or at least think about….

Axl Rose: Where the Wild Things Are

The year 1991 Axl wore his bandana and made mischief of one kind

and another

his band called him “WILD THING”

and Axl said “I’LL EAT YOU UP”

Instead he fired them

and retreated to his LA mansion without eating anything.

That very night in Axl’s mansion, Chinese Democracy grew

and grew-

and grew until his tapes were full of overdubs

and the songs were as long as the world all around

his dealer tumbled by with a private stash

and he sailed off through night and day

and in and out of years

and almost over a decade

to where the wild things are.

And when he came to the place where the wild things are

they implanted their terrible hair plugs and performed their terrible face lifts

and offered their terrible advice and showed their terrible claws

when they wrote their terrible concert reviews and gossip pieces.

till Axl said “BE STILL”

(actually he said “FUCK IT, I’M OUTTA HERE”, but why split hairs?)

and tamed them with the magic trick

of threatening to disappear altogether, thus robbing them of income

and they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all

and made him king of all wild things.

“and now,” cried Axl, “let the wild rumpus start!”

!!%#**!!!&*##

“Now stop!” Axl said and fired the whole bloody lot of them without paying their percentages and retainers. And Axl the king of all wild things was lonely

and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.

Then all around from far away across the world

he heard the sound of applause

so he gave up being king of where the wild things are.

But the wild things cried, “Oh please don’t go-

we’ll eat you up-we love you so!”

And Axl said, “No!”

The wild things waved their terrible contracts and had their terrible attorneys

send letters full of terrible threats

they even sent over a few ounces of totally killer blow to get him to reconsider

but Axl stepped into his private plane and waved good-bye

and flew back over a decade

and in and out of years

and through a week

and back to 1991

where he found an audience still waiting for him

and he was still hot.