Somehow, I can’t help reading vast amounts of the staggering mountain of words being churned out about Mr Bowie. I dodge some of it, but otherwise, it’s that proverbial road accident.
Besides, some of it’s genuinely informative. And some of it’s genuinely moving. The stuff that doesn’t lapse into those hopelessly tired, moth-eaten platitudes that I’ve lived long enough to find irredeemably tiresome. (“We’ll never see his/her like again” is one of my faves.)
Well, I know if I spewed enough of my own words without holding myself in check, I’d excrete my share of duds. It goes with the territory. Which is exactly why I’ve held myself in check. That, and just feeling a bit shit.
This is Bowie last September. He looks pretty good. Better than in a lot of the other recent promotional materials, actually. That’s something.