Hicks, a tall thirty-one-year-old Texan with a pudgy face aged beyond its years from hard living on the road, is no motormouth vulgarian but an exhilarating comic thinker in a renegade class all his own.
And I’ll continue to be me. As Bob Dylan said, the only way to live outside the law is to be totally honest. So I will remain lawless.
At the end of the session, the therapist took Hicks aside. “Listen, you can continue to come if you feel like it,” Hicks recalled him saying. “But it’s them, not you.”
We are facilitators of our creative evolution. We can ignite our brains with light.
The New Yorker writes Bill Hicks portfolio The Goat Boy Rises.