With his rapid fire delivery that he learned as a disc jockey in the 50's, he shot out a free association technology poem, cut to a screed on America's obsession with children and ended with an indictment of the hypocrisy of religion that clearly hit some in the audience like a sock in the nose. He was on fire. Three weeks later, I'm still struck by two themes from that evening. Of course, Johnny Thunder here understands that's medicine I should be taking too. As I was driving around today, wondering how I was going to finish this piece, I kept thinking of that audience at Bally's.
Words are dangerous.
Whenever you speak your mind, your heart, your passion, there are some people who are going to clap and laugh, others are going to sit and stare, walk away, or maybe even start heckling. But when someone does speak the words that cannot be spoken, the result can be exhilarating, incandescent. With all the spectacle and wonder on the Vegas Strip, this one man on a simple stage outshone them all. And in my book, that's good news. Between the chaos of life and my slow, iterative writing process, new material isn't coming out as fast as I had originally envisioned.