Rolling Stone

So some may not know but I'm a bit of a Rolling Stone Junkie, Rolling Stone to sooth my soul, and Vogue to make me drool.... Anyways my subscription ran out and I haven't purchased a copy in a couple of months but today unnoticed the 1000 anniversary edition and I decided I needed to buy it if for nothing else but to add to my secret magazine stash. Yes I have a magazine stash that I keep in a safe dry place not tons of them but just a few of my favorites or ones that were collections like when LIFE did a cover fold of the Beatles for there 25th anniversary, the first issue of SPIN that contained South Park, this was when South Park was new and had not been run through the ringer over and over again, Rolling Stones tribute to Jim Morrison and what not. I keep these with all the play bills I collect. Point Being. I figured even if it was crap I had an item to add to my collection and it displayed a lot of the cover art and had a major focus on the photographers so I was intrigued.

Getting to my point.....
I started reading the magazine which is much thicker than usual and I have yet to finish it. It's focuses on the photographers and the different subjects they have shot over the years, focusing on some of the more famous or infamous cover shots. It also goes in to length the history of Rolling Stone and how they earned their status as the top rock magazine. What I've learned after reading 1/4 of the magazine, I am no where near being a Rolling Stone junkie. I did not know half the things about this magazine and what it was about as I thought I did. The stories and journeys there recount in this issue are absolutely amazing. I am sure I will have tons of things to say on the subject when I finally come to my conclusion but for now I will leave you with one paragraph, one that struck me particular. It was powerful, well put, political, and beyond truthful.

p.82 RS 1000

In the Forties or fifties, in the age of FDR or Ike, you grew up thinking the president was like your dad. If you grew up with Kennedy, he was a handsome young prince living in a castle. Nixon was the first to rule in an era when the president was something gross your parents whispered about at night, like ethnic neighbors or anal sex. These days, the idea of the president as a sort of hideous, power-crazed monster with a lizard brain and a ten-foot erection is almost universal. In fact, we choose our presidents now solely on the basis of their ability to survive a grueling two-year process designed to beat out of a man everything but his most nakedly criminal urges. We ritually assault his friends and family, make him perform acts that would shame a Thai whore-and if he's still smiling at the end of it all, we pick him. Only a monster, a Nixon, is capable of that finish-line face. We know that, and we choose him anyway. Why? Because that's who we are. We get off on that sort of thing. The fascination runs very deep. And it's far too late to do anything about it....