Just a thought: Why didn't anyone ever do Howl for a forensics group interp piece? It would have been perfect...it's so lyrical, and it has an awesome rhythm. It's more image than idea, too, so a group wouldn't have to worry much about conveying a plot. I feel retrospectively foolish for doing Shel Silverstein, Delia Ephron, and Patrick McManus in my forensics days. Oh well. Maybe (though I doubt it) some high school kid looking for ideas will stumble across this blog entry and think to himself or herself, "Holy shit...Ginsberg! Why didn't I think of that?" (Why didn't Daniel M. Austin, our own little counter-cultural Beat, think of that?)

"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical, naked/ dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn loking for an angry fix/ angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,/ who poverty and tattered and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz..."

We could have dressed only in black. It would have been lovely. And it probably could have been stretched to fit the full fifteen minutes, too. Damn. It would have been fun to scream about Moloch.