“She told me a bit of madness is key, to give us new colors to see. Who knows where it will lead us? And that’s why they need us. So here’s to the rebels, the ripples from pebbles, the painters and poets and plays. And here’s to the fools who dream, as crazy as they may seem. And here’s to the hearts that break.”
“One kind of happiness is to survive a storm at sea, and to reach the shore in safety. Another is to triumph over hardship. Another is moving up in wealth and strength and position. Or one can hope; there are so many hopes. Some human hopes succeed and others fail. But a truly happy life is happiness day by day.”
“Music has always been a matter of Energy to me, a question of Fuel. Some people call it Inspiration, but what they really mean is Fuel. I have always needed Fuel. I am a serious consumer. On some nights I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music playing very loudly on the radio.”
— Hunter S. Thompson
The music of the conch shell, for many cultures, has for millennia been the means for calling together the community for celebration, ritual, or a collective endeavor of some kind. For other cultures, it has represented a musical entreaty to communicate with the supernatural world. And for other cultures still, the conch produces nothing less than the sound from which the very universe was created.