ET

I was born just a few minutes after Emmett Till died. You get a rumbling of things some times, things you thought you sensed without knowing, things you knew without thinking. You have those instants where everything seems to expand and collapse simultaneously. Like when Mikal had not seen nor heard from his brother in years until one day there was a knock on the door and there was Gary, with his fingers threw the ring of a half guzzled six pack...who barges in the room, lowers the shades, peaks out and says "you don't have a gun, do ya?" Before he even says hello. So who are you now? I got up this morning and had me some Identity Flakes for breakfast, there are some left over if you are empty. Some people believe in flashbacks. I saw Dylan once in the Alexis hotel dressed up like a woman smoking Virginia Slims, having what looked like whiskey. I wanted to say something stupid, but all I could think of was that National Lampoon record or was it Firesign Theater that back in 74 imagined ahead of time a washed up Dylan appearing on late night television like Johnny Ray. Hi, I'm Bob Dylan, remember me. And then starts hawking moldy hits from the sixties. There are those times when you feel infected by the personalities of others, other times inspired. And then there are those woeful moments when you feel a crushing demand to impersonate yourself. So, take on Isis, with two parts Little Egypt, as was foretold to you by Rolling Thunder when you had all but had it.