This is a good read on My Morning Jacket (I am 5 days away from them opening for PJ). If you can get past the opening paragraph, that is. It's not bad...it just caught me off guard. I had to double check and make sure that I was still at Filter-Mag and not at Pitchfork...
"It hit me somewhere over Oklahoma on the flight to Louisville. Tracing the scars that our ravenous heaping ant farm of civilization has gnashed through the great terra of the contiguous states, following their crooked stabs and flattened lifelines backwards from Los Angeles toward the Atlantic, I had a realization. If the human organism is indeed something singular, grand and ravenous, then the mess that I was staring at beneath me must be its exposed guts, somehow supplanted onto the geographic floor. The biggest cities are the organs, of course, and the smaller ones various satellites of the lymphatic system. Roads, highways, byways, flyways…these are the blood vessels, ferrying the vitals back and forth between pumping outposts in a giant game of cellular commerce. And if this creature truly does exist, and all of these cities are organs and the interstates veins, then where on humankind’s good gray earth is the giant fucking spurting vena cava? Why in Kentucky, of course."
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