{"id":12319,"date":"2009-10-21T16:24:44","date_gmt":"2009-10-21T16:24:44","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/2009\/10\/21\/sweet-gone-jack-forty-years-down-the-road\/"},"modified":"2009-10-21T16:24:44","modified_gmt":"2009-10-21T16:24:44","slug":"sweet-gone-jack-forty-years-down-the-road","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/2009\/10\/21\/sweet-gone-jack-forty-years-down-the-road\/","title":{"rendered":"Sweet Gone Jack Forty Years Down the Road"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: justify\"><font face=\"Georgia\"><a href=\"http:\/\/maverickphilosopher.typepad.com\/.a\/6a010535ce1cf6970c0120a667e0c8970c-pi\" style=\"FLOAT: left\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"STELLA%20KEROUAC\" class=\"asset asset-image at-xid-6a010535ce1cf6970c0120a667e0c8970c \" src=\"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.typepad.com\/.a\/6a010535ce1cf6970c0120a667e0c8970c-120wi\" style=\"MARGIN: 0px 5px 5px 0px\" \/><\/a> <a href=\"http:\/\/maverickphilosopher.typepad.com\/.a\/6a010535ce1cf6970c0120a667e02e970c-pi\" style=\"FLOAT: left\"><\/a>Jack Kerouac was a big ball of affects ever threatening to dissolve in that sovereign soul-solvent, alcohol. One day he did, and died.&#0160; The date was 21 October 1969. Today is the 40th anniversary of his release from the wheel of the quivering meat conception and the granting of his wish:<\/font><\/p>\n<blockquote dir=\"ltr\">\n<p dir=\"ltr\" style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px\"><font face=\"Georgia\">The wheel of the quivering meat conception . . .<br \/>. . . I wish I was free of that slaving meat wheel <br \/>and safe in heaven dead. (<em>Mexico City Blues<\/em>, 1959, 211th Chorus)<br \/><\/font><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p dir=\"ltr\" style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px\"><font face=\"Georgia\">I own eight Kerouac biographies and there are a couple I don&#39;t own.&#0160; The best of them, Gerald Nicosia&#39;s <em>Memory Babe<\/em> (Grove Press, 1983), ends like this:<\/font><\/p>\n<blockquote dir=\"ltr\">\n<p dir=\"ltr\" style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px\"><font face=\"Georgia\">The night of Sunday October 19, he couldn&#39;t sleep and lay outside on his cot to watch the stars.&#0160; The next morning after eating some tuna, he sat down in front of the TV, notebook in hand, to plan a new novel; it was to be titled after his father&#39;s old shop: &quot;The Spotlight Print.&quot;&#0160; Just getting out of bed Stella heard groans in the bathroom and found him on his knees, vomiting blood.&#0160; He told her he didn&#39;t want to go to the hospital, but he cooperated when the ambulance attendants arrived.&#0160; As they were leaving, he said, &quot;Stella, I hurt,&quot; which shocked her because it was the first time she had ever heard him complain.&#0160; Then he shocked her even more by saying, for the second time since they had married, &quot;Stella, I love you.&quot;<\/font><\/p>\n<p dir=\"ltr\" style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px\"><font face=\"Georgia\">Less than a day later, on the morning of October 21, after twenty-six blood transfusions, Jean Louis Kerouac died in St. Anthony&#39;s Hospital of hemorrhaging esophageal varices, the classic drunkard&#39;s death.<\/font><\/p>\n<p dir=\"ltr\" style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px\"><font face=\"Georgia\">On Dizzy Gillespie&#39;s birthday. (p. 697)<\/font><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p dir=\"ltr\" style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px\"><font face=\"Georgia\">He was 47.&#0160; I was 19.&#0160; On a restroom wall at my college, I scribbled, &quot;Kerouac lives.&quot;&#0160; A day or two later a reply appeared, &quot;Read the newspapers.&quot;<\/font><\/p>\n<p dir=\"ltr\" style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: justify; MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px\"><font face=\"Georgia\"><\/font>&#0160;<\/p>\n<p style=\"TEXT-ALIGN: justify\"><font face=\"Georgia\"><\/font>&#0160;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Jack Kerouac was a big ball of affects ever threatening to dissolve in that sovereign soul-solvent, alcohol. One day he did, and died.&#0160; The date was 21 October 1969. Today is the 40th anniversary of his release from the wheel of the quivering meat conception and the granting of his wish: The wheel of the &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/2009\/10\/21\/sweet-gone-jack-forty-years-down-the-road\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading<span class=\"screen-reader-text\"> &#8220;Sweet Gone Jack Forty Years Down the Road&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[202,40],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12319","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-kerouac-and-friends","category-literary-matters"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12319","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12319"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12319\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12319"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12319"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/maverickphilosopher.blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12319"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}