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Bad Luck Comes in From Tampa…

It turns out jbrandt was right. The Mountain Goats… very much my thing, and inspiring in a writing-wise sense:

Also, tangentially, for some reason, this is the song I imagine Kenneth from 30 Rock starting his shows with when he starts going out and singing in smoky bars and clubs after he becomes fallen in New York City, takes to deep atheism and hard drink and crazy women, and then exiles himself to some shack in the depths of New Mexico for a few years till he can wean himself off nanodrugs and sexbots, and then finds the only thing that makes him feel anything at all is to sing out all his existential sorrow and the bravery it takes to face it down day after day.

Which is a comforting thought, at least for those who live in a similarly weird reality.

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