I was just outside – and I did not see speck one of volcanic ash. Nonetheless, UK airspace is closed. On the day this dispatch is dated, we will either be flying into JFK in NYC; or we won't. But it's hard to argue with God. Or even with a volcano.
In thematically related news, I'm glad to see that Insane Clown Posse is getting some serious sociological and artistic commentary, in Slate. Many years ago, I told Matt that I really loved ICP. And he said, "Only pierced, addled fourteen-year-old boys listen to Insane Clown Posse." To which I rejoindered, pithily I thought: "Pierced, addled fourteen-year-old boys . . . and me."
In the spirit of acts of God, here's the new ICP video, "Miracles." The Slate reviewer describes it this way: "Imagine Wordsworth gone rock-rap, dropping f-bombs aplenty in praise of the natural sublime." Uplifting really – perhaps that much more so, coming as it does from the ole hatchet-swingers. Enjoy.
( And if you want some more vintage, classic ICP – mine and many other's first exposure to them – I'm going to wuss out short of embedding it, but here ya go. Viewer discretion, totally and utterly needless to point out, advised. )
