A suicidal friend once told the tale of how he recognized the true depths of his depression only after making a concerted effort to rid his existence of all the truly downer crap he had accumulated: poetry, rhetoric, politics, and art, etc.

After purging his record collection of the darkest stuff, he realized what he had left were the Leonard Cohen albums, and that he desperately needed help.

Now THAT'S funny.

In a sad sort of way.

My wife believes I'm melancholy because of Dylan and Cohen and I'd be happier listening to the Monkees and 1910 Fruitgum Company, or the like. I find this music comforting because it's not trite crap, although "Darker" is decidedly not cheery.