Texas is the Reason: The Death of JFK and Danzig’s Shining Moment
Fifty years ago today, the most sentimental cottage industry known to mankind was born. Our own bad-back-having, unable-to-get-a-Civil-Rights-act-passing Princess Diana of Chicago-vote-stealing, John F. Kennedy, was killed by one and only one person, or maybe everybody. Depends who you ask. Either way, baby boomers have been having grief boners ever since.
For everyone who wasn’t black, Native American, Filipino, Spanish, the Dulles brothers, Chinese, Japanese, Cuban, familiar with our history with the Barbary pirates, Lenny Bruce, Lady Bird Johnson, a citizen of any number of African countries having their anti colonialist ambitions consistently under cut by American “national interests”, a woman of any color other than white, fuck it-a white woman too, or generally paying attention in any way shape or form; November 22nd was the end of America’s sense of innocence. Aw.
But I came not to mock our arguably prettiest president, but to praise a song about his death. There are many great songs about JFK’s death but to discuss them all would result in a listicle and, ha-ha, I’m not going to do that. No, I want to talk about the best song about Kennedy, the second best Misfits song, the worst choice for a first song at your wedding; Bullet.
Bullet was the second single by New Jersey’s finest non-Gern Blandstein related musical export, The Misfits. Straight out of the pulp grotesquerie psyche of Glen Danzig, The Misfits took a moment away from being the country’s most trenchant observers of rockabilly Martian behavior to eulogize the man who fucked both Marilyn Monroe and the possibility for a rapprochement with communist Cuba.