Never mind Osama, here’s Neville When I was in eighth grade, there was a question on my American History final exam that read, “Who was the person most responsible for starting World War II?” The answer the teacher was looking for was, of course, Adolf Hitler. I wrote Neville Chamberlain. If Don Rumsfeld had been … Read more
The Magnificent Ambersons, 1942. Directed by Orson Welles, written by Welles (and fully credited to him), with additional dialogue by fellow legerdemain Jack Moss and pal Joseph Cotten. Starring Tim Holt, Anne Baxter, Joseph Cotten, Dolores Costello, the incredible Agnes Moorehead, Richard Bennett, and narrated by Welles. Available on DVD exclusively at Cinema Revolution. In … Read more
Again, there’s not a lot of interesting stuff going on today. I guess we’re in a pre-holiday “slumber” (or something). Sigh… The State Fair’s still happening but, pfft!, that’s not much of a secret. The Twins are playing. Plenty o’ shows to see at the all-new Guthrie. And speaking of which, Jeffrey Hatcher, who penned … Read more
I’ve had one too many fucking nickels pulled out of my ear, the younger of the two men said. He was sitting on the floor, wearing a hooded sweatshirt, pajama bottoms, and badly worn bedroom slippers. He had declined the offer of a seat on the sofa, choosing instead to slump down against the wall … Read more
A few nights ago, we started a dinner partywith a cheese tasting. I would have posted pictures, but it was like a frenzy. Honestly people. Old Kentucky Tomme / Capriole Farms, Indiana This was an aged, raw milk goat cheese (much like my beloved Humboldt Fog). It develops a natural rind that helps develop the … Read more
Jesus H. Tapdancin’ Christ on a popsicle stick I’m busy. So I’m going to be lazy and lead you to an obituary of a very interesting person. I love characters like this, and would’ve given up fifteen weeks of coffee and beer (not mixed) to have sat with this gent and just listened, over drinks, … Read more
Not much going on ‘cept the cheaper showing of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Tonight it’s fifteen dollars as opposed to the usual eighteen. How many times can she recycle one secret, you ask?
The way you throw your head back and show your broken teeth to the stars. How you laugh laugh laugh, nodding, your eyes pinned back to your perfect ears. I love that. The places you take me and the way you allow yourself to be taken, wherever you might be, so suddenly by sleep– I … Read more
Early Berleson had long since grown accustomed to the static routine of his middle years. He would sleepwalk through the day at work, make his way home in a sort of empirical blackout, and then, eventually, the night would just fall out from under him and leave him floating in murky space, listening to the … Read more
This Iowa singer-songwriter, whose low-down, come-hither grumble is to women in Birkenstocks what Barry White’s silken mumble is to women in heels and negligees, has kept a low profile the past few years. But now the prolific fellow has a new album, The Evening Call—and a new wife, the singer Iris DeMent, about whom he … Read more