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Whenever I think about The Shining, I think about the loveliness
of the proposition of Jack's employment, and of the tragedy
of how he blew it so completely. I keep my particular
fantasy of working in a lighthouse

(I'm sure, completely at odds with the reality):
Distanced almost immeasurably
and yet critically necessary.

I relate my fantasy to a friend who looks back at me
and, wolfishly, quizzes me on why I want to live
in a giant penis.

'Because I hate people, that's why.
That's why I want to live
in my giant penis.'

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Language of Prairie Dogs Manchester, UK

If music journalists are failed musicians, then what does that make us? We are failed musicians AND failed music journalists:

thequietus.com/articles/05029-looking-for-water-jj72-interview-review

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