Richard Hell must be
ready to die: He has an auto-bio on the shelves or wherever it is one gets books these days.
Legs McNeil reviews:
Richard and I have remained friends throughout the years, though we don't talk as much as we once did. Probably because in the mid-’90s, Richard and I were invited, along with Kathy Acker and Allen Ginsberg, to speak with William Burroughs at some highbrow literary event in Lawrence, Kansas. Immediately afterwards, Kathy Acker died of breast cancer, then Allen Ginsberg went, and then William Burroughs. Both Richard and I wondered who was going to be next.
So Richard would call and drawl, “So Legs ... uh ... how ya feeling?”
And then laugh hysterically.
Not this one.
6 comments:
I've been reading Wolcott's memoir of his New York days, and Hell shows up in the early Television days. Also, I made a "Love comes IN Spurts" joke at Bastard's that no one noticed.
Yeah, you're right, it's futile, it's sad, and somedays the only reason to keep going is to get that fucking paycheck to stock up on rum and shovels.
Agh. Memory is the third thing to go. I left the Spurts comment at Substance's.
It's futile.
It's sad.
Pugilism Editor:
Jersey Joe Wolcott?
Spurts comment at Substance's
Seems a more appropriate venue.
Not in the eye.
The Editor:
Didn't think he was actually aiming at you.
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