```json
{
    "title": "Monday Morning…Zevon, Caffeine and Viruses",
    "url": "https://performancezen.com/2006/04/10/monday-morningzevon-caffeine-and-viruses/",
    "datePublished": "2006-04-10",
    "dateModified": "2022-05-09",
    "language": "en-US",
    "description": "His comrades fought beside him, Van Owen and the restBut of all the Thompson gunners, Roland was the bestSo the CIA decided they wanted Roland deadThat son of a bitch…",
    "author": "spierzchala",
    "publisher": "Performance Zen"
}
```

# Monday Morning…Zevon, Caffeine and Viruses

> His comrades fought beside him, Van Owen and the rest
> But of all the Thompson gunners, Roland was the best
> So the CIA decided they wanted Roland dead
> That son of a bitch Van Owen blew off Roland's head

There is always something something soothing in the words of Warren Zevon, even when they describe the wandering ghost of a Biafran War veteran. They make the human condition, well, more human.

And the human condition is an important thing to remember on a Monday morning. With headlines shrieking of suffering, you have to sit back and wonder why; why are we still here?

> I called up my friend LeRoy on the phone
> I said, Buddy, I'm afraid to be alone
> 'Cause I got some weird ideas in my head
> About things to do in Denver when you're dead

The virus I have in my system right now has a greater chance of surviving into the next century than the human race does. And sometimes I wonder if Zevon and Gunter Thompson always knew that, and used this knowledge to fuel a life of what we see as madness. In fact, their madness has a stronger truth than the artifical and virtual lives so many of us (including your author) lead.

It's not melancholy that drives this rambling rant; it is a smiling realization that we are all the same, and in the end, for 99.99% of us, life is pretty darn empty in the end.

> Well, I pawned my Smith Corona
> And I went to meet my man
> He hangs out down on Alvarado Street
> By the Pioneer chicken stand
>
> Carmelita hold me tighter
> I think I'm sinking down
> And I'm all strung out on heroin
> On the outskirts of town

The words of a strung out junkie can ring more true in this world than the pronouncements of great people. The battles we, the 99.99% unwashed masses, face everyday are what keep societies working. Without our willingness to get up and battle every day, the great people would drown in a wave of chaos that makes today's world seem like a tea party.

Viruses have it easy. The dead have it easy. It's the living who stare down that dark tunnel every morning, and walk toward the deeping darkness (humans who say they see the light are more deluded than the rest of us).

Embrace viruses; embrace pain; embrace love; embrace every breath you take.

In the end, that's what you take with you.

> Left eye, right eye
> Take a look around
> Everybody's heading
> For a hole in the ground
> And it's the Dance of Shiva
> It's the Twilight of the Gods
> Thunder and lightning
> 'Til the break of dawn
>
> Monkey wash donkey rinse
> Going to a party in the center of the earth
> Monkey wash donkey rinse
> Honey, don't you want to go?