Masks, or demonic possession, or both. You?
Also in that fateful year 1965, far out of sight and out of mind for most Americans, the CIA planned and assisted in the slaughter of more than a million Indonesians, led by their man, General Suharto. This led to the coup against President Sukarno, who two years earlier had been on good terms with JFK as they worked to solve the interrelated issues of Indonesia and Vietnam. Their meeting planned for early 1964 was cancelled in Dallas on November 22, 1963.
And the politicians and media luminaries came out in their masks and told the public that communists everywhere were out to get them.
It's tough being on your own. It hurts to think too much. Or think for yourself, at least. To obey an authority higher than your bosses. "I was tricked" is some sort of mantra, is it not?
You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all did tricks for you
Dylan was lost and disgusted when he wrote the song. His own music sickened him, which, for an artist, means he sickened himself. He had just returned from a tour of England and was sick of people telling him how much they loved his music when he didn't. He needed to change.
What else is the point of art but change? If you're dead, or afraid of getting dead, you aren't going to change. You're stuck. Stuck is dead. Why wear a mask if you know who you are?
Knowledge, or more accurately, pseudo-knowledge or mainstream media lies, is a tomb "the mystery tramp" sold to us, a place to hide to avoid pain and guilt.
I have read more books than anyone I know. It sickens me.
I know too much. That sickens me.
I sicken myself. All the news sickens me.
I know so much no one believes me.
As Francesco Serpico once told me: "It's all lies."
Of course. Dylan and Serpico are blood brothers.
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