Look, let's face it- I'm a rock star. I look like a rock star, I act like a rock star. I smell like a rock star. I make
love to the camera, you know? I fucking
radiate, man. I might be sitting down to breakfast in a cigarette-burned beige kimono with eye snot- I'm still the
guy. I make
love to that breakfast. I just have that sort of matinee idol quality.
When I walk into a room is when th' party starts, you know? I make
love to that room, man. If all eyes aren't on me, well, somebody just skipped their Ritalin, you know? It's exhausting sometimes. Really. The preposterous come-ons. The stammering. The obsequiousness.
And I gotta say, man- I gotta say; from up here where I sit, where I sit on Elvis' right side up here in Charisma Land, I gotta say
it's a dim view I take. A dim fucking view indeed. It would be fair to say that the view I take is markedly dim. There is a dimness to the view I take. A pronounced degree of dimness. In the taken view that is mine.
If a graph could be charted, the X axis of which would be degree-of-rock-starness and the Y of which would be dimness of view taken, well, I would be the unforeseen variable that would skew the results significantly by achieving the highest degree in each.
And it is this dim view that contributes to a
grim, serious caste to my telegenic personality. It accounts for an artistic
tension, a
frisson of
alienation that
makes love to
an audience whilst simultaneously
challenging it,
taunting it.
All of which brings us to this: the dim view that I take.
Let's all see if we can just try to fucking pull it together a little, O.K.? It's a new week. Let's just all take a deep breath and see if we can do that.
