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.

Thursday, October 14

SONG OF THE DAY: Superman Lover

The other week I was on a long ass vehicular wander, through the nether regions of upper Appalachia, where there apparently is some sort of coordinated secret effort to turn all school boards into write-in candidates, who oppose a bunch of made up things that aren’t actually happening, but Fox News beams strong in rural America. Anyways, as one does, I got a few pieces of fried chicken somewhere near the West Virginia/Maryland or Virginia/West Virginia or some fucking border, who knows… I am just a man driving long distances to vibe, I do not recognize the imaginary lines on a map while vibing that hard in a car in the actual world where those lines don’t exist (though y’all motherfuckers do put up a lot of fences, don’t you?). The chicken thighs had the taste of fish as well, a shared fryer, which I don’t mind, that’s a blessing, anyone who tells you otherwise is a prude who expects too much from fried meats country folks adore. You gotta look for those dope ass country stores for the fried chicken hook-ups, which I found, and it hit, hard. A little too hard probably, and as the DJ Screw mixtape I was bumping, I felt impending problems with continuing my drive too much further without a gastrointestinal pit stop. That sucks though, because country stores, and gas stations in general, are horrible places to take a shit, so I usually look for a Sheetz or Wawa, in that region at least, because they are consistent in making their wage slave employees clean up the bathroom. Found a Sheetz, and it was weird, because there was a freestyle rocking on the Screw tape over a song that had sampled “Superman Lover”, that old Redman beat I think it was, but it might’ve been something else using the same sample, but then when I went into the Sheetz, and found my temporary road dog throne, I realized “Superman Lover” was blasting in the Sheetz. Why the fuck were they playing Johnny “Guitar” Watson on the Sheetz radio? It made no sense, other than one of those perfectly synchronized moments of magic. I knew then that my choice in fried chicken, car music, and stopping to get myself right all were perfect. And when I was done on my throne, I got two Perrier peaches, got back in the car, and kept driving. I haven’t stopped since. I’m driving now, texting this straight from my mind to the internet, because they have that technology now in the nether regions of Durango state in northern Mexico. I figure I’ll just keep driving down to Chile, then off to the moon while it’s full again. I bet driving on top of a full moon is transcendent. Probably gonna listen to some vaporwave for that leg of the trip though.

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