RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Monday, March 2

SONG OF THE DAY: Trucker's Are The Blood

Folk punk is corny as fuck. Truckers are horrible deviants. The truest jihad happens in your own human heart. My kid asked me about whether souls were real last night, because of The Simpsons episode where Bart sold his soul. I wasn’t sure how to answer, because we all had older model iPhones laying around, and I didn’t want the state to seize custody of my children. I love them too much for that. Obviously I believe we have a soul, but I also know you can’t say obvious shit anymore. You’re supposed to be obtuse, and faux clever, and do everything with a Kate McKinnon smirk smile, and head west towards the destiny that was manufactured for you, as the empire plunges over the edge of our flattened Earth. I practice in my mind at landing on edges while falling through space, so when it all falls apart, goes over the edge, I’ve at least practiced finding a crevice to catch onto, and try to survive a few extra months or years or whatever. I used to do that with a tire flying off my shitty truck, and then one day riding the interstate to be part of a class in the Richmond City Jail, my whole driver’s side front wheel flew off, on I-64, right by the Glenside Drive exit. So prepare for the worst, and don’t be cute about it. The worst is never as cute as you think it might be.

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