Did you hear the one about the woman who fell in love with a rollercoaster?
It wasn’t a joke.
Maybe there is some security in knowing that a rollercoaster will never look at other rollercoasters or try to rub rails with them.
Maybe there’s some comfort in knowing that a rollercoaster will always be there; colourful, well-oiled, steadfast, and reliable.
Maybe it’s the taboo thrill of the safety bar closing around your chest, locking you in a PVC-scented embrace.
Maybe it’s the tickle of the cold steel brushing against the hairs on your arms. Or the loss of orientation, and the screaming as things go rapidly downhill.
I’m not sure what has to happen to a person to make them fall in love with a rollercoaster, but let’s assume it isn’t great.
It is pretty cool that despite that hurt, the human heart will always find something to love, even if the brain is too scared to let it be another human.
Excuse me while I hug my guitar.
Earl was a troubled child of no determinate birthplace.
His teenage mother would frequently take him to the ER with severe bronchial asthma, probably worsened from sleeping on the floor with the roaches.
By the time Earl was old enough to start school, his mother had knocked out his two front teeth.
When Earl was 7, his aunt got him drunk.
When Earl was 9, his mum locked him in his room all summer.
When Earl was 10, his mum sent him to an orphanage.
When Earl was 14, he was stealing a living on the streets.
When Earl was 16 he was sent to prison.
There, he committed to music and began selling mixtapes on his release.
When Earl was 28, he released three albums in two years. They all went multi-platinum.
Earl was imprisoned 30 times. Earl was a pastor. Earl was bipolar. Earl loved dogs and orchids. Earl was an artist.
Earl was a very troubled man who turned his hurt into some of the greatest, most honest art ever made.
There’s a lot to say about Earl “DMX” Simmons. But nobody can ever say he didn’t give us everything he had.
X gave it to us.
And for that, we’ll remember him forever.