something kinda arbitrary just dawned on me…while having the Rookie of the Year DVD on the boobtube as background while we straighten-up around the house this morning:

Gary Busey plays ‘Rocket’ Steadman.  A helova guy, really.  This cat who has reinvented himself as the poster child for the reigning Hollywood lunatics of all time.  He’s easily pegged as a nutlamp now, but at one time he unburied the ability to construct the Steadman character from what’s inside.  Gary Busy is only one example, no doubt several others spring to mind.  My point is it’s easier to see the worst in people, to fuel the ire, to smear and debilitate the good aspects of a soul for sake of simplifying or, perhaps, complicating our lives.  Everyday we read about the rare efforts of the well-meant & the escapades of first-rate humanitarians &/or heroes, or a woman who lends her son to something they both see as deeply meaningful only to find in the end the ultimate saddest form of epiphany.  These people take action, or create emotion, or risk everything, …or only risk a piece of themselves splayed out there for the pickings.  They shine for a moment, followed, in due time, by their publicized reckonings, misgivings, foibles.  Henry Rollins mentioned something like this on his show as well.  As an exercise in human conduct they are knocked down several pegs for sake of exploitative media design or partisan this or just-due that, …but what do we do to the “best” aspects of these souls (the part of them that “could” reach a greater height temporarily & shine for a moment) when ultimately we shave them off at the kneecaps; …for their own good, or to feed our own egos as a people on the loosed-threads of a society gone mad with over-stimulation?   What is it that Gary Busey has inside that can be Steadman or Buddy Holly, & what is it about life in these “united” states that tips a seemingly well-meaning lady or gent over the line…into dark poetic obscurity?  In whose image, really, are we created?