Whoever he/she is, they're not just leaving a nice piece of po-mo graf (this thing looks like somebody took Helvetica and put it through some kind of fractal-izing meat grinder). They're saying that you can beat them up if you want to.
As I type this, I'm watching old episodes of The Johnny Cash Show, which ran from 1969-1971, starting in the summer of '69. It was broadcast from Nashville, TN, home of Cooter's Place. Right now, Bob Dylan is singing "Girl From North Country" with J.C. in the strange froggy voice he had during that era. I don't know why he sang like that. Maybe it was 'Nam.
I like it when Johnny is standing, playing his axe and he holds it out to the left like it's about to grow wings and he's just about to let go and watch it fly away in the blue, blue skies over Tennessee. He looks like a matador, a servant of de lawd, and a circus ringleader, all rolled into one. Compared to him, Bob looks grave, troubled, and of this earth.
Now Louis Armstrong is backing Johnny up on trumpet. By my reckoning, Louis Armstrong was pretty much an insane genius, also of good humor. He warn't nobody's yes-man, either, despite the general public's general tendency to cast him as the avuncular, friendly ol' jazz man handin' nickels out to the kids on the street. He could set fire to the air with his trumpet and had skills like a jet pilot neurosurgeon.
I don't know why anybody would say "You can beat me up if you want to." I will not puzzle over it too long, though. Another train's just gonna pull up after it, with a whole line of boxcars full of zenlike riddles to behold.
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