from the LP Bonnie & Clyde, Fontana Records, 1968
What is it with our nation’s never-ending romantic obsession over violence?! Sure, we could have a nice scholarly discussion on the contextual links between sex & brutality, the symbolic impact of the media, or the cultural acceptance of machine guns---but I don’t have to be back at work for another week and a half, so fuck that. The last escapee from an Arizona prison break & his fiancé are still on the loose, and they have apparently referred to themselves as the new Bonnie & Clyde, which seems like something of a self-fulfilling prophecy if they know anything about how that couple ended up. Of course, that would imply that these individuals, who happen to be first cousins (yes, it’s legal in 19 states), have any rational sense about them, which is doubtful. At any rate, I encourage them to instead direct their homicidal tendencies toward themselves (see: Thelma & Lousie), rather than forcing the police to do that for them, fuckin pussies. Speaking of fucking pussy (awful transition, I know…), Russian by-way-of Paris crooner Serge Gainsbourg enjoyed a short fling with sex kitten Brigitte Bardot in the late ‘60s, even recording a few songs together; this relatively brief encounter radically changed the direction of Serge’s writing, leading him to embrace his inner dirty old man---and embrace that he did, although I don’t think he ever screwed with his cousins. Here’s to hoping these crazy rednecks get caught or off themselves before anyone else is hurt!
