Cobain’s song about the invasive media, “Rape Me”, has new relevance now with Courtney Love’s desperate ploy to extend her 15 minutes of fame. She’s no longer a musician, not much of an actress and her Versace days are behind her so she’s playing the only card she has left: her brief association with her brilliant ex-husband. Yoko Ono did the same thing. This is shamelessly exploitative, pure and simple.
I’m totally against these diaries being released, since it’s clear form his music and interviews that Cobain would’ve hated the idea. But that won’t prevent me from buying a copy. The excerpts that’ve been released so far are surprisingly well-written and often very funny: “I want to die before becoming Pete Townsend”; “I would only wear a tie-dye if it was dyed in the urine of Jerry Garcia and the blood of Phil Collins.” There’s the occasional tendecy toward the sophomoric, punk posturing that marred some of the songs, but mostly they’re morbidly fascinating. At the very least, they’re interesting from a clinical point of view as detailed records of a severe, lifelong depression. They also put to rest any conspiracy theories about Cobain’s death. Eight years berore his suicide he very explicitly laid out a plan in one of his journals to become a big rockstar and then kill himself in a blaze of glory (suicides often plan their deaths years in advance).