I don’t want to see the mechanics,
the plastic, special effects. Back then it was
magic, heroics. We would never have known
we now have phones that choose our own
adventures, that whole hours can pass without us
looking up from them.
two indigo globes near death
or extinction, swathed amid
the vacant sclera
the back of his knuckle
faint against my lids.
But I have done so much in the name of faith I knew was wrong. Mary’s
grandmother delivered the sermon each Sunday but had no divine claim.
To keep the women of the family at the helm, she wrote in her will
Mary was to wed to her husband. Women have little claim in most holy spaces.
So I turned up the volume. In a quick Google search, I found Gourdet’s new
cookbook. On the front cover, he’s wearing a thin gray t-shirt and sweatpants: an
outfit of morning routines, of fitful sleep with the smell of garlic under nails.
Wes was just as impressive on-stage playing with many of the top-name jazz musicians, one of his most famous being the John Coltrane/Eric Dolphy Sextet for two weeks in September 1961, although no recording was made of this colossal group. In addition he led a band that incuded three members of Miles Davis’ 1959 Kind of Blue group: Wynton Kelly on piano, Paul Chambers on bass, and Jimmy Cobb on drums.
I take my seat by the window in a two-seat row, looking, despite myself, for flashes of mustard yellow, cobalt blue, and flaming hair in the stream of boarding passengers. And then there he is, like an exotic bird, white-breasted and red-crested, cobalt jacket slung rakishly across his carryon as he approaches. I drop my gaze. Moments later a body that might be his slides into the seat beside me.
The vampires of this film skew younger than usual, the clan having been built up by Lothos with unlucky high school students who remain ready to party and have fun. As they are reborn into their new world of darkness, they maintain some of their personalities and memories of who they were before, still wanting to flirt and play basketball and DJ their senior dance and drop in on their friends for a bite. These vampires are more relatable than they are terrifying.
I believe in the collective gasp
when Dorothy’s black and white world shifts to Technicolor,
I believe Lassie and Rin Tin Tin would have created a
magnificent litter of superhero puppies.
We’ll watch them crack open her pine box,
douse her bones with salt and kerosene.
Sam will look sad and say something gracious;
Dean will say he likes her style, but it’s time to ramble on.
I’ll say I’m sorry a man made her a wife and mother before her thirteenth birthday,
that I hope heaven is real because she deserves peace.
FILM / Going Commando / Stephen Lee Naish
Perhaps this is the anthem of Commando as a whole. Don’t think, don’t ask questions, just shut up, watch, and enjoy.
I know I should read a book, but these days, I’m just too tired. I watch SVU in the bath instead. Benson and Stabler were dealing with murdered children in the basement of a church, and Stabler wasn’t doing well because one of the children wore the same pajamas as his son. Elliott Stabler looks tough with his thick neck and feral eyes, but he hasn’t yet lost his faith. I had to ask.
and it’s clear that now
there are no guilty pleasures,
only pleasures,
only each of us
doing whatever we can
to manage each and every day.
Sir, despite what you might have been thinking, that ticket scanner will not get you into future concerts. It’s not like an all-access pass. I cannot imagine the look on the ushers’ faces if you try to hold out a scanner for them to scan.
My Mork from Ork attachment makes me wonder why kids cling to objects, or why they’re drawn to characters from T.V. Why do we require that thing in our hands, our grip, near our noses to feel emotionally organized and at ease from setting to setting? Blankies, dolls, pillows pieces of fabric, whatever it may be that gives children (and sometimes adults), the feeling of comfort and home. Why do we run to their refuge in our beds or on our sofas and hold them tighter than life?
Hey Mom, so you know the Grave Digger, right?
So… I just went to the funeral of the dude who drove it
& they put his ashes in his monster truck, revved the engine,
& all the ashes went into the sky.
It was fucking awesome. lol
I think about pressing my fingers into his sides, sliding through the slates of his ribs, and tugging out his heart. I would hold the muscle in my hand and watch it breathe like a small rabbit in its hutch. He is a blooming flower in my palm, my fingers cupped like fronds casting shadows.
We sang that song 200 times that day, progressively turning down the vocals on the karaoke machine until our voices were the only ones belting out “Gonna have a good time tonight/ rock and roll music gonna play all night.” This singing brought me closer to that man whom women adored, whom I adored for different but not too dissimilar reasons than they did.
I’m here to talk about my body navigating pop culture, where most of the bodies are skinny and beautiful, or at least smaller and more proportionate than mine. I don’t see myself represented on television much. Most of the time, if I do, it is either through the lens of someone bigger than I am or a black archetype: a maternal figure or an abused teenager.
And Macaulay Culkin is alive, but he’s ten
forever, red sweater and toy rifle strap. I am 41.
No one tells me they can’t believe I’m 41. They can.
FILM / In Defense of Elvis Cinema, or What Lies Beneath Kitsch / Alissa Marmol-Cernat
In fact, substance runs aplenty in Elvis cinema if you only know where to look. The films often challenge authority and prove downright fascinating in their portrayal of class dynamics, gender, and sexuality.