A God Has Died

Ronnie James Dio, a heavy metal legend, died today of stomach cancer. The world will be a worse place without him. If there is a rock and roll heaven, he will definitely be there.

I was just talking to my brother about how Pete Steele from Type O Negative had just died, and i was thinking about Ronnie and the picture of him I saw in Revolver from the Golden Gods awards–he did not look good. I thought to myself “how much longer before I’m talking about how Dio is dead too?” And as soon as I got off the phone I checked my feed reader and saw the news. It hit me hard.

I’m glad I got to see him live with Heaven & Hell last fall; it was an amazing show. And I’m glad he was able to record an album with those guys again before he died. The Devil You Know is an amazing record and a fitting last testament: Ronnie James Dio in top form, just doing what he always did best.

Thamus, are you there? When you reach Palodes, take care to proclaim that the great god Pan is dead.

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The Blue Bus Is Calling Us

I have been tossing around this idea for awhile, but haven’t written much about it because I haven’t really done the research to write something good, something that will capture the idea that is looming in my head. But I want to jot down the idea now. Later on I will flesh it out.

It has become increasingly apparent to me that Dionysus is the god of rock and roll, and that Jim Morrison is his prophet. What is rock and roll if not rebellion, liberation, and ecstasy? Rock and roll is not Apollo’s music. It belongs to the Liberator. Real rock and roll, not the complete shit that gets peddled as rock nowadays, but real rock and roll is a thing of incredible, monstrous power. It channels a spiritual well that is overwhelming and intoxicating. Real rock and roll is awesome. It is mystical. It is a kind of black magic. And it belongs utterly to Dionysus.

Jim Morrison was posessed of something. He was a classic tortured genius, and he was in touch with something that was too intense for him-for any human being-to handle. It was like he was taking a drink from a power main, and there was only so much he could do with it before it used him up. In the end, it was so powerful that it devoured him and left him dead in a bathtub in Paris. But while he was alive he was a shaman, a prophet. He knew that rock was the purview of Dionysus–he said as much in his own writings and poetry.

Dionysus is the god of rock and roll, and Jim Morrison is his prophet. Wherever he is now–in the land of the dead, in Elysium, or wherever he has been taken by the god–he is reaching out to us, and inviting us, calling us to “meet him at the back on the blue bus.” We listen, we let it posess us, and we invite the god in to bring us into a new kind of life, if only for a few moments.

EDIT: I came across an awesome essay about Dionysus and Jim Morrison on the internet the other day. Check it out.

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