Maybe this line from Charles Bukowski is true? I mean, to me, it has the ring of truth this morning. Up early, scanning the news, it seems that the "stupid ones," have the loudest voices, grab the most attention. One begins to think there are only the stupid ones, but, of course that isn't true.
Bukowski was a famous alcoholic, a hard-working-man, a derelict, but also a Poet. A dedicated writer, who wrote, often brillliantly, about his very hard-scrabble existence on the streets. His poetry and short stories are not of the "ivory tower" poetical school. More the school of "hard knocks." The school of "pricks & kicks." Think: vomit, shit, piss. With some beauty flowering in the crap. He and his poetry were obsessions of mine, and pretty much a bad influence. He's sort of the Keith Richards of poetical bad influences. All these years later, for me, the lessons of Bukowski: write, always, always write, no matter what, pursue what you love, live the dream, even if you live in the gutter. AND don't be an asshole like Buk. Really.
