I wanted to write and regurgitate about other country musical folk this month. Other thangs were upon my dull ghost hung over heart. The corrugated thunderstorms of Johnny Mauldin beckoned upon me. The meat of Johnny Paycheck’s first album called with its big fatty homicidal lie that is was live at Carnegie hall. I thought for God damn sure the Inspirational Instrumentals of The Camp Family and Davis Brothers would be like satiating head cheese down in the homely damnation fires of hell. Well, Slim Whitman done got died. This is an obituary with a ghostly essence instead of a cadaver. Let us gather.

Country & Western singer Slim Whitman is dead. He was 90 years of age surrounded by family at his bedside. His last words were a barely audible yodel. Satanic or not, he brought a lambent peace to this world.

For a country singer who wanted only to be remembered as a “nice man,” he sure did leave some of the most haunting spooky sounds and songs committed. He recorded around 100 albums and over 500 songs. He was a monstrous man who wore a crown of thorns called simplicity.

He was a sonic cowboy from central Florida. His real name was Ottis Dewey Whitman Jr. He was birthed into the optimistic drunk jittery year of 1924. Back then a name like Ottis had two T’s. The hard livin yodels of Jimmie Rodgers fidgeted his soul all through childhood.

He married at 17 years of age to a preacher’s daughter, who was 15 at the time. They would have gotten him for pedophilia today. The two remained married over 60 something years till death wrenched them apart. He exemplifies a man where passion and moral conviction converged into supernatural humanness. He believed in the purity of love. He sang the purity of love. He sold the likeness of the purity of love breaking Guinness world records.

He fought in World War Two. In the navy adrift upon the murderous seas, he learned the guitar. Although naturally right handed, perversely he taught himself to play the guitar left handed. Folklore around the world often strongly suggests left handed ability sources from demonic forces.

He fucking worked hard soaked in the blood of a meat packing facility, existent upon a 40 acre farm outside Tampa, Florida. Gruesomely, he cut off two fingers upon his left hand upon a work shift. He still perversely played the guitar left handed. He got a band together with unimaginative name The Variety Rhythm Boys. The satanic Colonel Tom Parker arrived from the foggy void and became his manager in the early 1950’s. The “nice man” held his own against the chicanery and black magic of that master black magician, the Colonel. Things got forged. Ottis became Slim and Slim had a solid silvery style.

He crooned combined with a chilling soaring high octave falsetto which had its own falsetto. His yodel is spooked spooky and ethereal, which could easily shatter any false glass fortress around any soul. The power of this supernatural shamanistic call probably convinced him to restrain his song choices to the maudlin romantic and sentimental. He avoided the boozy sodden darkness of most country music, yet by doing so the yodel made high strangeness and sinister undercurrents beneath the simple common everyman poetry of those songs. His dapper appearance and satanic slick mustache make convincing arguments for demonic forces. The man was either an archangel in combat with such dark malevolent forces or was perhaps a fleshy manifestation of Satan himself.

There is no accident that his songs provide the soundtrack for at least two sci-fi movies involving aliens.

To illustrate some of our dapper cowboy’s intense powers I relate this anecdote. Our Faustian songster traveled to the father land of yodel, Switzerland. He entranced into the hermitical inner circle of the yodel. He may have found the mystical origin of yodel. When he returned to the states, the IRS pounced ponderous resentful attacks. The material world resents masters of things not of this worldly game. The dullards tried to say he could not use his travels for hermetic yodel study as a tax deduction. The dapper cowboy with the engulfing simplicity of his powers destroyed the IRS in court. He made them crawl around naked upon the floor as they leaked out the liquid shit of their buffoonery upon the floor.

Intrigues abound! Plodding fatso pundit Rush Limbaugh almost exposed our provocateur troubadour ‘s magical Satanism way back over yonder hills in the nonmagical land called Radio. Secretly Slim Whitman has encoded many upon many satanically themed encoded backward messages into his plethora of commercial lps. Limbaugh explains:

"I went into the production room of the radio station and we got the Slim Whitman song. We put it in a tape recorder and we recorded it backwards, which is what you have to do… This is very, very, very bad, folks, dangerous. I'm reluctant as I can be to play this for you but I'm being forced to.
They believe it. The people calling wanted to go on the air and ask me if there were any more Satanic messages in other Slim Whitman songs, that they had other Slim Whitman albums. So I had to make an adjustment on the fly. I thought I was gonna be getting phone calls from people I took some calls and a guy said, "I have every Slim Whitman record, what should I do?"
I said, "Burn 'em." o please exercise great caution… You gotta end it fast. We can't handle this anymore…”

He was also a gentleman experienced with the worldly insults of this sock puppet suck world. Whitman had to experience the indignity of a very brave con artist capitalistic hack who made a Halloween make up kit novelty created so folks could impersonate the “nice man.” I guess he became a God. Once you become a parody you transcend reality (realities).