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Maybe it's notable that I was interested in your books until you unleashed grievances against Woody Allen..just incase there wasn't a single sole in the country who hadn't become sick n tired enough already of the vitriol fired back and forth in that stale, decades-old debate (which was settled in a court of law). Thankfully, Allen has found a way to creatively inoculate himself from the media-pulped babel that passes for legit public discourse.
My friend told me about divine moving & storage, so I decided to have a go with them. I used them and got the best possible moving services. They did the packing as well. I have to say that these guys are magicians. I never thought that they would be able to complete within the schedule and without any damage because of the glass ware, crystal ware, piano, delicate art works, and fragile antiques and for the other similar stuffs. But they proved me wrong and I am happy that they proved me wrong.
In the above comment I meant to say "the winds of wifi," not "the wings of wifi." But I guess that's hardly important. Disregard this comment, I suppose.
Are you familiar with the Insane Clown Posse? The moments in your review when you touched upon the current state of our culture made me think of some aspects of their oeuvre. Specifically, I'd like to quote the opening of their first album, "The Ringmaster." (It is in fact their second studio album, but I like to think that it is, in some spiritual sense, actually their first.)
The opening of the first song of that first album, "Wax Museum," is a spoken-word piece delivered by the Gypsy Fortune-Teller. I'd like to quote his words in full. Bear with me--I do believe this is important.
The Gypsy Fortune-Teller says to us: "Greetings. Welcome to the Gypsy of Fortunes--your coin was very much appreciated, and now I shall grant you your future…. It seems my cards of tarot have dealt you a very odd hand, a hand of six jokers' cards--this is very rare, and suggests something most hideous is approaching you. You shall be visited by a dark circus, a circus of horror, pain, and anguish. This traveling mass of evil will leave your lifeless corpse to rot while entrapping your soul to be displayed at future stops…. Oh yes, you must also be aware that it is your own evil doings that have brought about this dreaded carnival's visit: all of the sins and hatred you have cast during your life have whipped and spun into form, the form of one who leads this gruesome parade of pain into your life, one sinister beast, one known only as ... RINGMASTER…."
Perhaps, in light of the words of the Gypsy Fortune-Teller, my esteemed fellow commenter Master Kolm would like to amend his statement that we are now in a second 50's with no 60's in sight--perhaps we are, rather, sitting upon the cusp of a dark 60's, a 60's of horror, pain, and anguish…. Such have been my thoughts many a midnight when I wandered the garishly lit Williamsburg sidewalks, feeling the electronic currency drift by me on the wings of wifi as I sipped my craft beer, ironically hidden in a plain brown paper bag, and thought I heard, accompanied by the carnivalesque music of the taco truck, the approaching footsteps of one who leads a gruesome parade of pain into our lives….
Anyhow, that seemed pertinent to me when I was reading this review, I don't know. At the very least, I hope you'll check out the Insane Clown Posse, particularly their early stuff from before everyone got on board. It has what may be the single most boss tarot reading from any hip-hop album of the mid-nineties.
We adore hip, hop Brooklyn, keep it hood. Go back to IOWA, or stay in Bay Ridge. Where White people belong. Oh yeah, and leave those poor people in Harlem alone. They don't want you there either. Watch the news.
People of color , wish you were no where near our neighborhoods. Please go back to Nebraska. And stop believing what you've been watching on Sex In The City.
Nice little review.
Wonderfully well written review, and I have to agree with Mr. Lindgren about the current status of women in this culture; it's right back to where it was pre-women's' movement.
The patina of success that some women seem to have achieved in some segments of this flat-lined culture obfuscate the reality we are all drowning in: This is the 1950s with no 1960s on the horizon -- good luck to us all!
"dropping its spare beats just at the point where the barely contained lust is boiling over. Not afraid to be carnal, it delivers desire without quotes around it."
Obviously there is no editor who would have said how is a song carnal and " the barely contained lust is boiling over" is just plain silly writing. Schlocky, actually.
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