Flaming guitar guy from the new Mad Max movie is my new spirit animal. He is a new sort of shaman – one for these crazy times. This dude personifies an anarchic spirit and barrels across the Australian Outback on a gleaming metallic diesel warhorse, a hulking smoking mass of a truck, that burns human blood in its chrome innards. His guitar screams their soul-piercing chords out across the yellow dusty landscape. Some guy out there who’s been a road warrior for countless summers wants him dead. I think it’s because he is jealous. But flaming guitar guy won’t be silenced. He’s gotta flaming guitar, for Chrissakes (what more do you need), and he won’t keep it the hell down. He is not going to willingly climb into that pine box that awaits us all at the end of the day like some acquiesent cow would. No, he’s going to play his guitar as loudly as possible and not go down without a fight. He will sink his blood-stained teeth deep into the sinewy neck of any fool insane enough to take him on.
He will play his incendiary guitar licks with abandon, even if he gets a bloody punch to the face. Flaming guitar guy can see himself doing this for all eternity. After all, even if the bastards strike him down, he will rise again in Valhalla. Even if they stick a dagger in his back, he will return, triumphantly, from the dead. He is also a powerful metaphor for how we all should lead our existences: loudly blaring our music full tilt from the top of a careening diesel monstrosity- even in the face of eventual oblivion, and when the entire universe is disintegrating into nothingness around us. His stark visage should be emblazoned on a new Tarot card, an arcana for these braver times, for he is an inspiring archetype of the post-apocalyptic world.