Requiem for Ray Manzarek of The Doors

Ray Manzarek, Jim Morrison's oldest wisest friend, 

has theoretically "died". 

I use that term very loosely, to describe a state that for Morrison and Manzarek,

 does not actually exist. Perhaps they, in that lofty ascendance, are cooking up spooky moods in the Soul Kitchen and are now philosophizing upon what has kept them apart oh these many years. 

Perhaps they will agree: it was a Revolving Door, the Muti Direction Exit into Mystery, that has now been traversed, and perhaps they are standing on some ancient shore  realizing the profundity of their Creation, their's and Robby Krieger's, John Densmore's --- their devotion to the Mythopoetic Sciences.

 Manzarek and Morrison: Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn as heard through the voice of a time traveling/ hallucinatory Iguana named Dante. 

Manzarek gave an interview in 2008 with Coast to Coast Program that is full of sweeping energies, brilliant radioactive radio that challenges the Human Heart into a State of Anarchic Freedoms, not the kind that can be explained by a post card, but rather only by dizzying vertiginous operas. 

A thought: When Chuck Yeager broke the sound barrier: It Sounded like Ray Manzarek Sleepwalking... 

His sonar is set to Stun. 

Inside the Matrix --- the one that by Law Does Not Exist --- there is a scene in which the Eminent Kosmologist Ray Manzarek is reverse engineering the Blueprints of Salvador Dali's still pulsing heart while dancing counterclockwise to a Melting Alarm Clock in a secret location near Area 51 , where all the Magicians of the Continuum go to learn how to Discover America. 

 Mein Nietzsche, I say, today remembering the very moment I heard the first notes of Moonlight Drive .... 

the intricate filigreed fuse and melody line of Light My Fire ... 

which under certain conditions --- reveals a Sound that is like a Bonfire tickling the Eyelids of a Siamese twin. 

My word: I wept this is the passing of a Great Transcendent American Spirit. 

An American Eagle.

 Jim _____ ______ Morrison's Significant Brother, the Benjamin Franklin of Psychedelia, a Once in an Epoch 13+++ Dimension Visionary. 

Super Weird Ch-ill-um-in-ati. 

Listening to Manzarek's Music: is like being inside the Red Eye of Jupiter in a flight across the Buddha haunted Suburban Thunder Jungles where all the Disco Balls bounce around in the Eyelids of Las Vegas Black Jack Dealers late at night while contemplating a thermonuclear detonation of w****s mouths shimmering inside a Bathroom Mirror. 

Manzarek: Raised by Bach at Redondo Beach, probably chirping the Goldberg Variations in his Baby Crib, collecting Skeleton Keys from the Muses the way Dream Pirates Collect Dolphin Tears, Manzarek grew up inside the blue note colored chiarascuro of Mozart's Starlit Wings ...

 the Piano Keys Eloping in the transcendental onomatopoeia of his Imagination. Manzarek's playing was like an interpretation of the serpentine psychosis, sinews of crystalline Signals, the Snaking Synapses of Silence No More: 

It is: the Sound of Ten Billion Gauntlets dropping.

 If Ray Manzarek lived in a Forest where there were no Organs : there would still be the Sound of Manzarek. 

One imagines, note by note with the Doors, that they encountered vistas of Transcendental Understanding --- through their songs --- from the engine of the Crystal Ship, to Scarlet Letter O of Oedipus Rex in "The End" --- those psychedelic phantasms rushing into Madness of the Minotaur, resurrecting Socrates in the Discotheques of Middle America while leaving swathes of diamondesque wilderness in their Wake. 

Two of the Doors are Now on the Other Side... One Door... opens the Way. Two Doors, and the Way Opens itself. 

"Morrison and Manzarek, deader before they were born, living in death and dying to death, then living again in the preternatural darkness, musicality within the madness, Immortal Demi Gods in the Poet - Tree".

 haha hoho hehe. 

They were the pallbearers for Mistah Kurtz, they crash landed a pyramid in the Suburbs. 

They CREATED,  Seized the Day, then began Juggling  Jupiter moons Loose from the Night Sky. 

From their Sound sprang Fully Clothed: Heavy Metal, Gothic Doom, Edgar Allen Poe saying "Quote the  Morrison, once More!"  

Ululating Mood Rings, Nietzsche murmuring Voodoo in an Empty Room, the voice of the Cactus unlocking a chastity belt ... 

To hear the Doors is to think like the Greeks, to gather your Sybils, and bring the Mermaid's Heart into an aquamarine Boil, while chanting Aristophanes into the Zephyrs of the Dawn. 

Ray Manzarek disappears into van Gogh's  Other Ear and around the Pian-Ogh Faced Queen of Freedom, her mouth a door opening into the Garden where Ginsberg's Blakean Sunflower Weary of Time is Turning, Heliotropic Lunacy, gone, van Goghn, Goghn. 

But not forevermore. The Doors are everywhere: Eyelids, Highways, Soupcans, Eardrums, Nostrils, Attics, Castles, Russian Ballerina Hearts, The Night Sky, an Open Door. 

The Grave, an Open Door. 

The doors creake in Blue Notes that wake Robert Johnson from the Afterlife.

the Telephone Wires, the Morse code where Morrisons voice is a bolt of electrolytic Vodka in a wire. 

Kriegers guitar evolves like the Winged Cobra, on thermals and in drifts of Ether and permanent sunsets that meet Manzarek's Organic Organisms in the Ethereal Penumbra at the Edge of the Inhuman Eye. 

Jim Morrison would ask "Where's your will to be weird?" 

while: one Blue Note next door, at the same moment --- 

Ray Manzarek was teaching a Ruby how to row the UFO into Lady Godiva's Uvula at the Zenith of Space/Time. 

And it all seems natural while listening to the Doors. They express an Unlimited Freedom of Being. 

Love Is Anarchy. Love is Anarchy. Love ... is ... Anarchy.

 The Vitality of the Keep Going, Keep Going, until ?????????????????????

There are no Questions, there are no Answers: there is only that Moment of Perfect Knowing and Unknowing, and in between: are the Doors. 

That's when the Manzarek Ocean Leaps out of it's Bed, pulls the Morrison Moon down into the valley of the Oyster Faced Drumkit of John Densmore while Krieger blitzes like Buddy Holly across the Bermuda Triangle ... into some Pacific weirdness, the bioluminescent Green Notes wavering off the Malibu Blueness, turning the Rainbow into a Brainbow of  Communion Wafers spinning at 33 1/3 Revolutions per minute until even the ghost of Rasputin might slip through the grass from his Russian grave and start promoting the Doors to the Extraterrestrials Gathered in the Junkyard at Dawn. 

Mud Children race into Ray Manzarek's Piano Strings strung in the Sky like it was a Gog Magog Moog Synthesizer. 

Pipe Organs began to fill themselves with Congo Scented Smoke, the Keys of the Organ begin to Unlock the ... DOORS of Perception ... 

but they are not just DOORS. They are PORES. Portals into Immortal Membranes, 

Transylvanian Weathervanes, Radioactive Bullseyes, where Matadors are emitting Emerald C Sharps, Purple B Flats, exotic glissandoes of neologisms, Hamlet realizing the answer to his Question is : Neither to be nor not to be: but rather: Just listen to the Doors. 

 it will never make Sense, but it will make Music.

 Manzarek trapped the Language of the Flamingo in the Ears of Metallic Ungulates, Eyeless Rhinoceros weeping green zephyrs into the surface of the Watering Hole, every crazed fusion of the Organ a Shrieking Shakespearean Allegory of Sound, igniting the Bonfire of the Hierophant in ten thousand Shades of Uranium. 

Who was the first Moon in the Manzarek??? Who tuned the the Gyroscopic Xylophone? Man Rayzarek!!! Zane Zanremake! 

Mozart  lost in the Mozambique whirlwind: Ray Manzarek, arrived like an Argonaut on a Bluemerang. 

Treble Clef Beethoven Beats the Beatniks Back into the Beatitudes. 

Manzarek played the Organ like M'Organ Le Faye played Merlin's Reptilian Hindbrain. 

Love Notes exeunt, stage Zenith towards some Uncertain Certainty, the Eardrums of the World opening like trampolines, cresting in crescendos of Black Ops Opera,... 

and freeing those Muses, Manzarek and his Companions brought the Human Spirit into the Land of the Twilight at Dawn, Magicians of the Inside Out Moon upside down and Sunset Inn. 

The Doors Invited the Dead Gods to dance and celebrate the Fire Rainbow, 

the razor wired Skeleton lurking under L'American flesh, to whirl in shadowy western watusis and to learn to remember, and to forget: 

That Wilderness --- of Pain, of Spanish Caravanserai, emoting the Sounds of the Supernatural Whispers, the Intricate Otherworldly Ventriloquist Symphony, 

and the Dream Time of the Doors, an entrance into enchanted chanting: ___________ __________ __________; the Last Song before the Last Song before the... oh fark it, stay awake until Tomorrow. 

 They're troubadors of America's Western Mythos.  Manzarek and his companions thankfully --- will haunt us happily with their juxtapositions of darkness in light, madness of meaning... Songs that rage against the dying of the Light, Opening the Doors of Perception into