Happy birthday, Bob.
No One Can Sing the Blues
May 24, 2016 by at 3:59 pm
Happy birthday, Bob.
Happy birthday, Bob.
A nod to Kierkegaard and Walker Percy: existentialist tomfoolery, political satire, literary homage, word mongering, a year-round summer reading club, Dylanesque music bits, apocalyptic marianism, poetry, fiction, meta-porn, a prisoner work-release program.
Søren Kierkegaard
Walker Percy
Bob Dylan
Literature & History
Letters from an American
Beau of the Fifth Column
This American Life
The Writer’s Almanac
San Diego Reader
The Stranger
The Inlander
Adoremus
Charlotte was Both
The Onion
From Empty Hands
Ellen Finnigan
America
Commonweal
First Things
National Review
The New Republic
All Manner of Thing
Gerasene Writers Conference
Scrutinies
DarwinCatholic
Catholic and Enjoying It
Bad Catholic
Universalis
Is My Phylactery Showing?
Quotidian Quintilian
En pocas palabras
William Wilson, Guitarist Extraordinaire
Signposts in a Strange Land
Ben Hatke
Daniel Mitsui
Dappled Things
The Fine Delight
Gene Luen Yang
Wiseblood Books
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Funny – my entree to Bob Dylan was the Dire Straits catalog. Knopfler in a Westwood Studios interview (musta been about 1985ish) said that as a youth he played Blonde on Blonde until the grooves were worn out.
I think Dire Straits is the vodka to Bob Dylan’s gin. Or Rye to Bourbon. Or lower case bordeaux to the Real Thing.
Rufus. I’m playing Dylan tonight on my newly 30-year old disc player. Just. For. You.
Blonde on Blonde, of course!
Love,
JOB
Thanks JOB. I love you.