...End of the American Rainbow

California, end of the American rainbow and where the Cult hunts for treasure. That treasure can be measured in hot flesh, dollars, carats, power, adventure. These are the orbits most of us are pulled, willingly through, spun and bludgeoned by the by. It's ok because Mom and Dad prepared me, history and human psychology has prepared me. Thirty-five plus years of running and falling and lifting and pushing has build a ferocious entitlement. The Universe abides in the Cult of Los Angeles as do I. And together, we sing her song, sad like Coltrane, Chan Marshall, Mazzy Star...sad like the atom bomb and parents of hurt children and broken hearts. But, there is a joy and it is powerful, the counterpoint to our collective suffering. And it has enough heat and cheer to bring the World to boil.

I'll follow the way of the songbirds, the love birds, birds of prey and birds of paradise. Thanks Mom. Thanks Dad. I am Immortal, Full of Joy, and Wield an All Holy Fervor... in the Cult of Los Angeles!