Says Red Molly, to James, “Well that’s a fine motorbike.
A girl could feel special on any such like.”
Says James, to Red Molly, “My hat’s off to you.
It’s a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952.And I’ve seen you on the corners and cafes, it seems.
Red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme.”
And he pulled her on behind,
And down to Boxhill,They’d Ride.
—-Richard Thompson, 1952 Vincent Black Lightning
Cozumel, Mexico
“The Edge…There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. The others-the living-are those who pushed their control as far as they felt they could handle it, and then pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came time to choose between Now and Later. But the edge is still Out there.”
― Hunter S. Thompson, Hell’s Angels: A Strange and Terrible Saga
Motorcycle Gang
on scooters
(where else but) New Orleans, Louisiana
Across the Street from Lee Harvey’s, Southside, Dallas, Texas
Man has no Body distinct from his Soul; for that call’d Body is a portion of Soul discern’d by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age.
William Blake – The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, plate 4, “The Voice of the Devil”
Bill Chance 