No link is necessary. For the last two years, I was deliberating on writing an essay entry here about how I feel about hippies and Hollywood and the drug culture and a myriad of things I obsess over that would have all tied into the wonder that I hold when I think of Dennis Hopper. Also, I was going to mention how The Kinks are the greatest fucking band to ever hit your ears and they never pandered to any of that psychedelic paisley shit that the Beatles/Stones did, thank Heavens. Maybe Ray wore a Nehru shirt and maybe songs like Fancy employed a sitar-ish slant to them but it was never like the overt comedy that the other two should be embarrassed by. But, I digress...
There goes a fascinating and deeply creative individual who worked across so many eras and genres and with so many incredible people that I could argue he had the greatest mind-full of memories on this whole fucking planet. It's astounding to consider this one man's experiences in life and ridiculously humbling, especially to someone like me. The world is noticeably a great deal lousier with this loss even though we knew it was coming. I will miss his irreverence and his laugh and smile and knowing he was doing what Dennis Hopper does. In my eyes, truly an immeasurable giant in every possible way.
2 comments:
Great post, Michael.
It's strange that even though I've always been a fan, it had never really sunk in until learning of his death yesterday and thinking back on how many incredible performances he's given us, just how huge his contribution to the awesomeness of film was.
total bummer man.
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