I follow in the wake of a roaring age. A long dead time of crushed steel that, when alive, spun marvelous tales across yellow paper. The american bohemian spirit of the pulps is inside of me, taking shelter from the fire and fueling it at the same time. Words form a tapestry and a song, they spawn all that I try to cope with but never to understand. EXTERMINATE ALL RATIONAL THOUGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!