Tangled Up In Green

As much as one loves Bob Dylan, it is always best to resist the temptation to write about him. He is a slippery fish, who is routinely put-off by the industrial-level attempts to access his soul through the interpretation of his lyrics. And if Dylan makes albums—at the rate of almost one a year—as an excuse for introspection, then much of what we find obscure in his catalog is by definition intelligible only to him.

This leaves Dylan theorists with only his public persona to base their theories on, which allows the song and dance man ample opportunity to do the one thing he seems to love best: dissemble. Here is a recent Dylan comment on the media: