Tuesday, September 3, 2019

The Prince Autobiography, my motherscratchin Ass




Hey look it's some punkass milquetoast writer telling portions of "it all" from his peculiar relationship with Prince at the very end of the icon's life, as a ghost-writer/autobiography collaborator. (In itself some odd timing, altogether, that just as a book like this was about to be written, the man dies. And at that, so soon after the creepy-synched death of "Vanity," who was the same age.)

Prince would simply not need to do dodgy Vicodin with all the risk it contains. That whole spiel about his reckless pharmacology at the end is wretched for its familiarity, and reads exactly like the narrative proffered by Knoll, Merck, et al, and the rather well-corrupted AMA, and all the vermin directed by them in the incestuous holds of mass media. If this familiar, cynical corporatist narrative does not tell you something, then you need some god-damned cognitive help here in 2019. And it seems apparent that he was only as dispirited as one should expect of a person like he, who lived so long in a brutal and soulless industry and who had a keen political and spiritual awareness as he did. 

Also, one strongly doubts he would have allowed himself to die inside an elevator, which was to him a metaphor for existential distress, the pitfalls of vanity and success, and The Devil itself. And he was killed on what is almost easily the most sacrificial-themed day of the modern occult calendar: 4-20. Not 4-21, the morning his body was discovered, allegedly. That's not even just bad journalism, it's shabby forensic and certainly contextual logic---but this latter only if one knows what to look for in such cases.

If people give anything like a sufficiently valid fuck in the first place, and they do Not take heed of the life and death-meaning and direct implications of not only Prince's story but those of many other musical and artistic luminaries of the 20-21st centuries, then they are ignorant people. Or at least unmindful of the Increasingly Obvious in an age when these matters are being addressed and somewhat adequately dealt with on the internet. By skeptics and free thinkers and legitimate intellectuals who have mostly moved past the point of giving a fuck what ignorant, lazy intellects think of them or their views.

Good luck figuring out anything all on your own. Good luck to you if you value the integrity of societal primers and organs of news-delivering authority.

"Music is healing...Music holds things together."

That shit will not stand, Mr. Nelson, not these days.

No comments: