But perhaps, as with any story of an artist, there is missing space in the puzzle, and perhaps on top of that, things that may not make logical sense. In interviews, discussing his views on, say, Irish music being akin to rock'n'roll, or about music in general (to paraphrase, "music is everywhere, in the ground, in the water, in the rain, and we just put it in boxes"), or about Irish literature, or on remembering Ronnie Drew, MacGowan comes across with glimmers (at the least) of being informed, well-read, possessing a bright intelligent mind, as he does in his imaginably long-suffering girlfriend's account of conversation with him, A Drink With Shane MacGowan, a vehicle for his philosophizing. (To say nothing of the primary evidence of a thoughtful mind in some particular songs, the poetry of his account of being a kid in North London working for Meals on Wheels, "NW3," for example.) There are times when spending time considering his raw works seem a little more justified while the world goes about its serious business trying to right itself.
Enter the NY Times' recent piece piece on concentration, the focus of the mind, reached through meditation, through getting rid of all the random thoughts running through the head. And one begins to see, perhaps, how the great thinkers do it. They effectively stop thinking, clear the mind. (The piece seems to veer off into a discussion of abilities with multi-tasking, but obviously this is ground worth exploring.)
For MacGowan's part, one wonders, is his 'meditation and mindfulness' gained through simply getting wasted, which would seem a bit like cheating maybe. Is his access to creativity a token of an Irish nature, stubbornly clinging to the old ways rooted in lyrical tradition, spirituality and rooted humanity? MacGowan was, once upon a time, a bright kid, Eliot's poem, "Preludes," a favorite of his. As his songs suggest, one wonders what happens to such people. Perhaps the territory raised up for us by Konnikova's piece isn't entirely frivolity, say what you will about those who attempt to be practitioners of it.
And for an artistic person (as an afterthought here), while it is painful to remember the times when one was unwittingly in a general creative mode, engaged in a kind of 'not thinking,' in moments where it would have been a lot better to be thinking quite practically and 'on one's toes' as far as life goes, there lies within such a consideration of thought and liberated brain power a gentle understanding apology. It's just how thinkers/artists/scientists are sometimes, a habit to tolerate. And perhaps for an artist to tolerate himself he must further allow himself entry to the mode of 'mindfulness' to keep that which must be taken as worries of a practical sort for a time at bay. A kind of feedback loop emerges in which the mode is more necessary for survival and well being, else one would get too down on himself. Reasonably assuming that with age comes greater worry, the importance and vitality of deeper thought patterns might naturally emerge. And in full adulthood, as a consequence, perhaps one does, like a Jesus, end up taking on a large part of the carefully constructed empire that makes modern life possible (viewed from the lens of the self-fulfilling prophecy rule-abiding empires seem to be fond of imposing.) While a MacGowan doesn't seem like the kind of person to be judgmental about certain kinds of behavior, there is a certain kind of politics he supports, one generally against the excesses of empire.
JFK and Churchill took naps, allowing the meditations of rest inform and develop their sensibilities, enabling them to enter into modes different and broader from the conventional military/diplomatic views of a LeMay or a Chamberlain, and often involving the raising of questions rather than the acceptance of a known status quo. I fear the same is true with respect to poets, who share the same interest in craft as the academics who do well teaching about poetry, but have a fondness too much of their own poetic modes and mindfulness to be comfortable with the conventions of professional academia. (Some are able to do both.) It's not a question of will and rational thought and logic, but of a deeper choice, one the individual may not be so happy with in terms of conventional happiness, a matter of conscience.
As with everything else, an artist is vulnerable in chrysalis stage, in hatching stage, in transformation, in development. That is the hard part, surviving the coming out, the first steps. The struggles, inner and outer become a good part of the art. Perhaps an artist cannot be blamed for whatever in their human judgment is defense mechanism. Music is clung to for survival and sanity for the life playing music creates. (No wonder Mr. MacGowan's musical compositions are from a younger time.) "I wanted to be a professional musician," Mr. McGowan is recorded as saying in documentary. "Thank God I become one."
http://thequietus.com/articles/10794-shane-macgowan-interview
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/lunch-and-several-drinks-with-shane-macgowan-8297816.html
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