doco in the independent weekly
We’re here tonight to commemorate the launching of what will certainly be a leviathan of a musical dynasty. Indeed, I was at times among the unbelievers, doubting that this day would ever come. But come it has, and not without tremendous merit and magnificence.
We’re here to celebrate the birth of a timeless truth: Doco rocks. The amount which Doco rocks is beyond argument, so instead of babble on about the obvious splendor of Doco’s rocks, I would rather speak merely on how miraculous is Doco’s persistence.
Doco came to this world, and rather than create something grey and shapely like everyone else, they chose to create something colorful and amorphous, to toil in the treacherous trenches of uncertain imagination, to hammer the anvil of rock, to hear the silent cries of the public unconscious screaming:
"Save us. Belay our perdition. Becalm the cries of our lost dreams and abandoned ambitions. Save us. Show us color again; return the blush to our cheeks. Save us, from our dues and our debts, from our greed and lust, from our immaterial pursuits. Save us, from the rotting hollow that aches in the pit our souls, that imbues our fates with the stale and endless appetite for emptiness and misery, that longs for us to feel and cry, ‘Save us. Save us from ourselves.’"
And for this, Doco, I thank you. Nay, I applaud you. Indeed, we all applaud you.
doco in the kirksville socialite