The new look says he's done with revolutions, it's time to smoke one down and drink up everything that there is to consume. He's into pop culture now, strumming a guitar, singing the next crushing street anthem, or maybe some unplugged emo ballads, you know, whatever it takes to pay the bills.
He's the poster boy of sonic opiates and other other flavor addictions waiting in the corporate wings, framed in death--as he was framed in life. Someone's newest symbol, a marketing device, no longer a man, only a face in black relief against the modern red flaring sky.
All symbolism is broken down to the smallest components, then rebuilt: his face, versus his own words, dead to the living, dead on paper, dead on dead cloth. Like a shroud with a holy face's tears and agonized last moment burnt into its fibers, only a little more marketable to the now generation, and maybe to the next. He never knew this when he sat in the marshes waiting for the right moment to cause the most mayhem as quickly as possible and be off into the night, he never saw it coming, at least, this counter raid from out of the post cold war nights. Now they got him.
Now it's payday on the party's tab.
Now... he's a goldmine first, an icon second, and whatever he said will have to come last, wiki and other sources telling us about the dates, but not his times, knowing nothing about motorcycles ripping down a jungle trail at night, or what it feels like to be led to one's death with a black sack over their head, hoping it comes quick rather than slow, since that's the only mystery left to ponder.
Knowing these things isn't part of the new look--or the old look or next look, either, and they never will be. The words wouldn't matter, even if he rose from the dead to say them himself.
Really, even his own words and deeds would barely get in the way, and hardly scratch the veneer of the current rampaging green monster only painted red for effect and style. His words get romanticized and trampled by turns, but some do know them and let them rest, even their spirit. But nobody else knows the words, not the name, or even the first syllable. Very few people seem to know there was a man called El Che, even if they're wearing his face right now.
* * * * *
This little piece of prose was written at my friend Michelle's Spell, was yanked back from the distant past where it sat forgotten, was re-written, and all of this is as a result of a conversation with Trevor about his old avatar's resemblance to the iconic face of Che Guevara. "El Che" was an Argentina born revolutionary who gained his fame as a guerrilla leader in Cuba's communist revolution, and was later executed during Bolivia's failed socialist revolution, in which he also played a significant role. His image (taken from a picture of him on a motorcycle) is used to sell trendy consumer goods, from t-shirts and music, to home decor, specifically, "art", like as in the Wall Mart collection or ordered back in '94 along with a pair of green Doc's. Cash, credit or carried out by five finger discount, the irony is truly priceless.
It's all good like you knew it would. What else could I say that I haven't yet?
First is the "I'm Original" award, created by Edyta, a new friend I met through the famous and uber-charming Crashy, who of course was the one who nominated me for this distinction.
I am awarding this to some of my favorite blogs, originals all of them, who in turn may or may not care, but probably will, just not a whole lot. Probably.
- Dear Bastards--Mob might actually appreciate the dark humor of this "mark of the beast" style of award. Read his reviews of horror movies and video games on Bigsuckloser, and dispair no more when searching for entertainment.
- Contains Mild Peril* --Maybe Ultra Toast Mosha God, too, would get this--too late. He's got it. An original, from week one or two. Hilarious and sharp. Like many of you.
- And Hijinks Ensued... --Princess Pointful writes like nobody's business. Technically, it's not her business, but her passion. Still, she writes like a professional. Intelligent, funny and sometimes--gasp--a little bit provocative.
Next are the Thoughtful and Creative Blogger awards that were given to me by Myutopia. Thanks again, Kelly. Talk to you when you get back from vacation, or sooner, maybe :), as in a few lines down, more than likely. They are highly self explanatory.
- Benjibopper, I awarded you both of these, and you received them graciously. You write very well about many of the marginalized voices in our world. A good novel's worth. Good luck in your endeavors.
- Skinnylittleblonde, you deserve recognition for the way you treat people here on the interblog, and in your life. Creative just happens to be how you roll, friend.
- Singleton, you know it--the thread, the loops, the fireballs and the tides. The unbroken circles and the great chain of forever. Creativity in every breath. And so very thoughtful.
- The Walking Man--Very thoughtful recognition. We know all these Detroit area writers, and all of them cool and compassionate and generally great to have around. Keep taking care of them. They deserve only the best thoughts.
- Danny Tagalong--Creative recognition. You always bring great punk rock or vintage classics to us through You Tube, and bring a creative perspective to writing each post.
- That leaves one double nomination left: Susan Miller--although Danny can nominate you for Creative, too. You're extremely kind and very creative, and a good friend. Write!
Next is the Schmoozer Award, awarded for those who take great pains to see everyone get along and to bridge the gap when necessary. Look up the word schmooze and you will find these powerful personalities dominating the lines:
- Myutopia--She leads discussions on books that can range toward the heated end of the spectrum, yet agrees to disagree ahead of time--ie, right in her profile. She visits her blogger friends quite regularly, and is always there to wish them well and offer a supportive word. She'll even give your poem (or mine) a quick review, and let you know (me know) to fix it before the rest of the traffic sees it. And, she's a Detroiter. In Texas. Awesome.
- Crashy--She just knows what to say to make people feel better and is not afraid to say it. She tries very hard to write her posts to be entertaining, and helps to take care of a great group of friends who also know that she deserves every award she's ever received. And she has a lot of them. Cheers, mate.
- Behind Blue Eyes--You don't just blog, you discuss, and your response field comes alive with people who have much more to add to the conversation. You like to see every perspective, to know how people feel, and that affects you and your writing in profound ways. You deserve awards, but really, you only need to keep being yourself.
- Bardouble29--Thank you for inviting me to share at the poet's corner, you bring the voices together, and the muse follows. Your life really is crazy! But here's a nod of respect, and I hope to read some more of your words soon.
- Karma Lennon--you've opened up a new world of truths, and I was glad to share my story, too. Talk to you soon. Keep listening for the sounds of other tired voices that only need to be told that somebody does indeed listen to the sounds they make. Nothing is in vain that we put into print.
Another obvious and self-explanatory award, below.
The awkward drumroll, please:
- JR's Thumbprints--this guy has got the ultimate collection of cautionary tales. Read them and don't you dare weep. The truth needs no tears shed in it's wake.
- Benjibopper--Rock on! Thanks for the initial award. It broke down the gates, I'd say.
- Captian Corky--Thanks for dropping by every day, man. I always try to hit every one's blog when I can, but you have quite the itinerary to follow every day.
If you did not get mentioned, I didn't mean to exclude you. Please take any of these awards as the cost of my short sightedness or lack of manners, or print out a poem, read it to your signifigant other(s) and get lucky. On the house...
Until sometime soon, peace out, my friends.