Paris, France — According to Reuters and the Associated Press International, James Douglas Morrison, the lead singer of the rock group, “The Doors,” is alive in a Paris retirement home.
Morrison, who rose to the heights of a rock legend in the late 1960’s, was said to have passed away in the bathtub of his Paris apartment on July 3, 1971. The fact that there was no autopsy and no one who claimed to have ever seen his corpse, the legend, mystery, and controversy surrounding the Lizard King has continued to swell.
Reuters Paris beat reporter, Belda Sauve, who has been investigating various Morrison rumors for the past 45 years, broke the story last evening and sat down for a Gish Gallop exclusive.
“I was contacted by a nurse from Petites Soeurs des Pauvres, an assisted living hospital for the infirmed,” Ms. Sauve told Gish Gallop. “This nurse informed me that she was caring for a patient named Jacques Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. The patient, who is suffering from alcoholism and liver and kidney failure, as well as moderate dementia, told her he was the grandson of the famous French post-impressionist artist, Henri Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec. Everyone believed his story because they knew that the senior Toulouse-Lautrec was a raging alcoholic that cavorted with prostitutes.”
“Over time, however, this patient would tell the nurses stories that didn’t seem to fit his original narrative. Stories of rock concerts, sexual orgies, and massive alcohol and illegal drug usage. At first, they brushed it off as his dementia talking,” whispered Ms. Sauve. “One of the nurses, who had read the Morrison biography, No One Here Gets Out Alive, by Danny Sugarman, began to relate the patient’s stories to those in the biography. Simple addition sent them to me,” exclaimed the proud journalist.
“I stopped by the hospital and interviewed Mr. Toulouse-Lautrec. We had great conversations about poetry and art, the Louvre, music, politics, and existentialism. When I mentioned Pamela Courson, Jim Morrison’s soul mate, he retreated within himself and became quiet. I sat there, watching him, silent for more than four hours, working in his brilliant but fragile egg-shell mind. And then he spoke, ‘Strange days have found me here, poisoned by an L.A. woman waiting for the sun, amongst a feast of friends lost in a Roman wilderness of pain the crystal ship is slowly sinking, and the blood in the streets is up to my knees… I am ready to break on through to the other side I see your pen and paper weave quick minarets this is the end, my brain is squirming like a toad Yes, I have taken a face from the ancient gallery’ The non-sequiturs, that somehow fit, as always, continued to fly for an hour.”
“He was exhausted,” continued Ms. Sauve, “and I plucked a few hairs from his drenched mane, and fled the hospital in a frenzy, trying to keep my eyes on the road and my hands upon the wheel through my moonlight drive to the nearest DNA lab.”
“After receiving the DNA results, I contacted everyone, still living, ever connected with Jim Morrison. Producer, Paul Rothchild had retained several hair brushes used by the poet. DNA results on the hair from these brushes revealed a 99.999% conclusive match to the hairs I plucked from the scalp of the patient, Toulouse-Lautrec. It appears the music’s over. Turn out the lights.”