I've always liked the class of burnout cigarette smoker local music scene types who still believe in the cult of the beat generation- it's a bit autoparodic & their lives are full of silent self-sabotage, but they appreciate the important things in life (too much).
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Trajectory here is craft beer flannel working class dads, salt of the earth rust belt townies who found no spiritual revelation during their youthful hitchhiking, but can play some chords & tell some jokes. Loyal & somewhat sullen, cynical, defeated romantics.
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I used to go to house shows with these types- half of them work in national parks now, hiked the appalachian trail etc while their peers "made lives"- Cormac McCarthy's Suttree is the best dramatization. A distinctly american breed on its way to extinction.
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The american pilgrim drives cross country to worship sheer space & expanse. He searches not for manmade sites to pay homage to, but for emptiness. The patron saints of the void leave silent encrypted testaments- precarious rocks on anonymous cairns. Disturb as little as possible.
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Replying to @Logo_Daedalus
It's a cult of space "Look at all that space out there".
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Tell me abt it
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