Jordan Dotson

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Hate has no great literature

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I stood in the harsh electric light of that new tunnel, in Bombay’s Arthur Road Prison, and I wanted to laugh. Hey guys, I wanted to say, can’t you be a little more original? But I couldn’t speak. Fear dries a man’s mouth, and hate strangles him. That’s why hate has no great literature: real fear and real hate have no words.

…Shantaram, page 414.

I spent half an hour thinking about this, and I’ll tell you what…the bastard might be right.

Well she may be pretty

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Now I know it’s getting late,
It’s Friday night & the crowds are starting to fade away,
And I know shouldn’t be here waiting on her,
But I keep thinking any second she’ll be coming ’round the corner
And I should be in my room, & I should learn how to forget
Well she may be pretty, oh but someday I’ll get sick of her shit

…from Christchurch Woman, track #6 off of Justin Townes Earle‘s acclaimed new album, Harlem River Blues

I’ve listened to this album at least twenty times in the past two weeks. Earle just managed a coup for presidency of the Rock God Progeny club and poor Jakob Dylan got kicked out to busk on the street. Absolutely brilliant album. I’m officially obsessed, almost to the degree that I have been with his father for the last ten years. This is the album I’ve wanted Ryan Adams to make since 29. It’s so Zevon-esque in the simplicity, yet razor-sharp accuracy of the lyrics.

…and on that note, it’s Friday night and the crowds are starting to fade away.