A gray evening, a caffeinated groove cut into
the name of the day of the week: Slaturday.
The heroic shape of an isolated tree, heart-
ened to be out of the city and into the sky.
Speaking of snakes and feeling blind and stupid.
A mixtape that comes in a circle; the research
involved; the evolution; what percentage
you’ve lived through. “It’s random,” a
sour niece implies, striking “dumb” and
“stupid.” A long conversation about how to
soak in pop culture. “It depends on what you
want,” whines Ethel Mertz. For me, it’s music
(the intersection of dance and pop, anyway),
movies that don’t insult my intelligence (a
cocky approach never fully realized, to be
honest), a couple of tv shows each season
(purchased on iTunes a day after aired and
ostensibly void of “sponsored interruptions”),
and The View that suffice. Kim’s list includes
staying on top of whatever’s new and buzz-
worthy in high-brow music (ok, he said
“classical” – but can it really be called such?
I mean, if truly current?) and keeping up with
trends and trendsetters in fiction. He’s hoping
to find one website that will include, so as to
succinctly cover, all of his favorite pop culture
genres. What gives you a leg up? He who wins
the contest of knowing first scores a future.
Make a list I can read nicely. But nothing
with any prescience. It wouldn’t be fair.
