Jun
30
Song in Plaster: Lambchop, “Sharing a Gibson with Martin Luther King Jr.”
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And so Jason out in the wet, what’s he there for? He goes this way and that, backforth crossing the street. He’s checking the store signs, but the rain gets into his face when draws back the man his hood. Craggy Jason face looking out, thick nose jutting from the hood, jammed like a carrot there in the middle of the stew.
He’s beckoned by the inner voice, the happy wifely command echoed. The week is long and the work is hard, she says and he knows. He sets out in a car, but while driving he hears a tune he once sat to in a car with a girl that gave him a feeling like three handfuls of tar running the vein course to his heart. And he loses Read more
Jun
29
Jeff sat with the book in his lap. Tori sat with her book on the arm of the couch. The commons building sat in the middle of the campus.
Jeff did not look at his book, but looked instead at Tori. Tori looked across her book at Jeff. The commons building looked at the chapel just past the art building.
“How’s Marquez?” Jeff asked Tori. “Just fine. How’s Calvino?” Tori asked Jeff who shrugged. The commons building posed Read more
Jun
25
Rollo did not want to. Tunn and Dip were all for it. Fan was for it as well.
- I’m not the sort to even take a shirt off at the beach.
- We are not the sorts to care, they said to Rollo.
- I have definite opinions about witnessing the male nudity of others, and definite opinions about displaying my own male nudity.
- What other opinions could you describe for us? Tunn asked
- I believe that the good Lord gave us shame for a reason, and look what happened to Ham.
- Look what happened to Adam and Eve, naked and sinless. But, we’ll be here in the dark, naked and sunless, Dip said and took off Read more
Jun
25
Song in Plaster: The Mamas and the Papas, “Do You Wanna Dance?”
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I think that it’s our turn.
I hope you’re wrong.
Put your hand here.
I thought it was here.
Not there, here.
It’s dark.
Tomb-escent, I’d say.
We should have made the t-shirts glow in the dark.
As though it’s of no expense.
But worthwhile.
I wonder.
They’re wrapping up.
Put your hand here.
I thought Read more
Jun
24
Song in Plaster: Dent May, “I’m an Alcoholic”
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“I’m studying. I need to finish this paper. I have a full two pages of Virgil translation due tomorrow. I have to read the rest of the Quixote. But there’s nothing wrong with having a taste of Southern Comfort, just to slide into things.”
“I’m going to have to get back to things here, but you’re wrong about CCR. I don’t care who else loves them. It’s just good music. Objectively good. If you don’t like CCR and The Beatles and Bob Dylan you just don’t like music. That’s obvious. Oh, this is black label?”
“I have never heard such a thing. I have never heard such Read more
Jun
23

Her hair in a fine mist, vapor around her head, she stretched hands down to his sides. His stony face expressed nothing about his sleep, his mouth closed tight. Over him, leaning her face down, feet planted bare on the grass, pink in green, she thought of herself as a mythological tree awakened by this boy’s loveliness, and moved in turn to wake him with branches, twigs tickling his underarms. She sent spider shivers Read more
Jun
22
So - I discovered last.fm in May of 2007 (I know that because my last.fm profile tells me so) on the suggestion of Josh Stevenson (who’s got a profile that has been inactive since July of 2008). What last.fm does is keep track of everything you listen to on their site and on your iTunes. The novelty of this is what got me hooked - a chance to show my friends how cool my music tastes are. Then it was creating playlists that I could post on other websites that held my interest. But it wasn’t until Josh and Read more
Jun
19
Homeopathic Stereo Static: The Communal Canticles of Mariee Sioux
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When I opened the door to The Studio last Tuesday night, it was mostly empty and mostly dark. Any faces I could make out in the dimness were bruding or apathetic. Everything seemed to scream, “You are not welcome here but that’s fine because nobody really cares, anyway.” The Studio is actually the basement of the famed Webster Hall in New York City. I was there to see Mariee Sioux, a singer/songwriter whose existence I learned about from a suggestion on Seeqpod about a year ago. A guy who goes by the name Zomes and the band Brightblack Morning Light Read more
Jun
19
Holly called Marco and told him that she’d been kidnapped by woodland creatures, and that they’d taken her to the top of the Art building. “I can’t tell exactly what they want,” she said, “but their intentions seem ill.” She sounded like a bored waitress, too pretty to work in a diner. Marco put his hand in his pocket and continued walking to class. “Are they going to let you make it to Rosen’s lecture?” She made a toothy inhaling sound. “It’s doubtful. This Read more
Jun
18
Song in Plaster: Gal Costa, “Baby”
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“You’re a bastard,” Jeannie-Marie said to the dog following her. The dog pricked up his ears at her in expectation, watching her hands as she patted them against her thighs, a favorite gesture of exasperation for Jeannie-Marie which the dog did not recognize.
The Bead rolled along at Jeannie-Marie’s feet. She had not yet realized that the dog and the Bead both had reason to follow her. She did not yet know that the Bead was following her. The bead was Read more











