The Disease of Addiction

is the most boring, cliched phrase I have read to date. And that says quite a bit now that every nincompoop with fingers can contribute to the ongoing human dialog. I am sad that Amy Winehouse is dead because I enjoyed looking at, and listening to her. The article in NYmag by N. Abebe about fetishizing fatalism for art and artifice sake is the best thing I have seen on her life and death. "There's no point in fighting the sadness..." he writes of the worldview she shared with Billie Holiday and others; but you have to fight the sadness. It is possible. Compelling, even. I believe I have that heroic capacity. And that there's value in it. For some reason I may never know, I have faith. I look forward to seeing the other side, even only in glimpses. RIP Amy and Artex.