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Some thoughts on Dylan's "Murder Most Foul"

 Originally posted on the Expecting Rain forum : Some thoughts on "Murder Most Foul", after over a year: It works on me. I'm in the "it's a masterpiece" camp. I can tell you a story about why I think it is, but I'm not certain that would be the real story. ("Key West" on the other hand, does not bind me with its spell--somehow that one I look at from the outside, rather than get pulled in.) I think the central conflict in the song is between overwhelming cynicism and evil, represented by the killing of Kennedy, and the power of music to heal wounds and offer solace in the face of despair. I think Dylan has music "win" the battle, but it's not obvious. But at the end, "Murder Most Foul" no longer refers to the assassination so hideously depicted earlier in the song: it now refers to the song itself, and it is the last shot fired in Dylan's barrage of DJ Wolfman Jack invocations against hopelessness. This is a great bi

Where is 56th and Wabasha? "Meet Me in the Morning" Dylan Mystery Solved

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Short version The lyric is not "Fifty-sixth and Wabasha", it is actually "Fifty-six and Wabasha", referring to the intersection of old Minnesota Highway 56 and Wabasha Street in Saint Paul, Minnesota. If you listen, you can hear Dylan sing "fifty-six", rather than "fifty-sixth", particularly on the take that was released as the B-side to "Duquesne Whistle". Minnesota Highway 56 no longer intersects Wabasha Street, but from 1963 to 1974 it did intersect Wabasha Street, at what is now (in Feb. 2021) the intersection of George Street and Cesar Chavez Street in St. Paul, or possibly South Wabasha & Cesar Chavez.  Long Version "Meet Me in the Morning" is the first song on side two of Bob Dylan's celebrated 1975 album  Blood on the Tracks. In the opening lines of the song, according to the lyrics on Bob Dylan's official site (https://www.bobdylan.com/songs/meet-me-morning/), the narrator invites the listener to a rendez

Flash lit: Battle Scars

His skin was covered in old scars and bright tattoos, and he reclined languidly on the cushions as I cleaned him up. The history of his skin made no sense: The colors and lines of the tattoos were vivid and sharp, like they'd been done last week. But the scars that defaced them looked decades old: cruel and terrible, but faded with time. I couldn't figure out how and old scar could deface a new tattoo. In the warm lamplight, he looked like the vandalized portrait a saint. Vandalized first by a brilliant graffiti artist who liked trolls and turtles and runes and fire. And then again by some sick flayer with the dark art of hurtling wounds deep into your past.  If the scars still pained him, he showed no sign of it. Spent and drained, he looked beautiful through my bloodcrush eyes. No doubt when his blood wore off he'd be all dopey grins and stooped posture and middle age again. No doubt he  still  was all that; I just didn't have to notice it for a while, not with

After Dinner

BOOM BOOM BOOM . The knock was coming from the floor, from under one of the worn Cathyssian carpets Kyle used to try to give his Spiretonian loft some kind of coziness. Sometimes the goblin drugmongers downstairs pounded on the ceiling if he was making too much noise, but Kyle had been having a quiet evening too himself. He was sorting his latest Beastclash card acquisitions and stuffing his face with food so he’d have enough blood to feed his newly adopted vampire daughter, who’d be waking up in an hour or so. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done to annoy them. They’d been friendly since the Loot division several days ago. BOOM BOOM BOOM . The knock came again. It sounded like they were trying to get his attention. Why didn’t they come to the door? Kyle got up and walked over to the spot on the carpet where the knock was coming from. There was a slight bump, as if there was something under the rug. Could that somehow be what was annoying them? Kyle grew suspic

Troll bard

People try to cut me down (talkin' 'bout regeneration) Just because I'm green and brown (talkin' 'bout regeneration) I don't need no s-s-saving throw (talkin' 'bout regeneration) Hack my limbs and they regrow (talkin' 'bout regeneration) This is regeneration This is regeneration, baby Why don't you all r-run away (talkin' 'bout regeneration) I'm really very hard to s-s-slay (talkin' 'bout regeneration) Unless you've got di-s-s-sintegration (talkin' 'bout regeneration) I'll come back by re-g-g-generation (talkin' 'bout regeneration)