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Newsletter No. 16: SPEAKING OF DEAD MAN...
"[For man is a] fickle, erratic, dangerous creature [whose] restless mind would try all paths, all horrors, all betrayals... believe all things and believe nothing... kill for shadowy ideas more ferociously than other creatures kill for food, then, in a generation or less, forget what bloody dream had so oppressed him." Loren Eiseley Jesus. Morpheus is on us like the blanket of soft sleep that slathers the sick, the strange and the stupid. That is: we are jetlagged to fuck. Dan fell asleep mid-sentence while sitting across a desk from a business associate. Eugene is STILL sleeping, Niko is nowhere to be found, and Greg, strangely enough, remains unchanged. But the point is this, in case you missed it: OXBOW lives. That's right. We weren't offed by angry cuckolds. Or Islamic terrorists. Eugene wasn't nabbed with schedule C narcotics taped to his body. Venereal disease eluded us. Ptomaine poisoning and diarrhea drove right on by. In other words OXBOW's 2002 Tour Part 1 was a four-way failure. Especially if by failure you mean that we didn't die, get arrested, get VD or the runs. But enough of that. The division of labor is as follows this month: in a departure from the usually breezy and light bandinage of the average OXBOW newsletter we will run reviews and assorted odds and sods this month, saving the multi-nutted ejaculation for the OXBOW 2002 Tour Part 1 TOUR DIARY and allowing us to sleep. Sleep. Slee... Stay tuned. Oh yeah. And buy CDs by the band ROPE and the band THE TAKERS and the band the LOST GOATS as soon as humanly possible. |