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My Own Personal Joady
July 2, 2009 Lithe and blonde and a hundred pounds, she sinks her toes into the smooth, silver stones. I watch her. Slipping on her big brown sunglasses, which remind me of fly’s eyes, she sits down next to me in a folding chair. I am on the rocks. She fishes a book out of…
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Desert Apocalypse
During the monorail ride at the Newark Airport, most of the talk was about how “crazy” the weekend would be at the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival. The lineup was particularly strong this year, boasting Thom Yorke, The xx, Phoenix, Tiesto, and Spoon, to name a few. I was traveling with a group of…
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On “Girl Pain”
Almost four years ago I attended a symposium featuring rapper Talib Kweli that focused on hip-hop’s responsibility to the community at large. What sticks out in my mind is a joke told by Mr. Talib (lyrics stick to your ribs). When asked about his thoughts on Cam’ron’s “Suck it or Not” and whether he found…
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Politics and Street Art
The following was adapted from an excerpt of a Word document that may one day, by the grace of David Simon and the Holy Ghost, become a thesis. Amen. Graffiti, also referred to as street art or guerrila art, depending on an artist’s C.V. and willingness to make money, is not a new phenomenon. Handprints…
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_Failed Love_
I’m not sure how your Valentine’s Day turned out—sappy and loaded with Stevia, I hope. As I write this, mine doesn’t seem to be beginning so well. It’s 12:33 am Sunday morning, and I’m watching _Zombieland_ with my fourteen year-old sister. My roommates are currently stumbling around Atlantic City without me, beating up the beat,…
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“There’s this rich guy, he wants to be famous”
Years ago an American army captain ordered a million copies of a short novel, something to help keep the troops’ spirits up in Europe. Many credit the mass production of this book, _The Great Gatsby_, as the reason why F. Scott Fitzgerald, who had died in obscurity in 1940, rose to worldwide fame, and Gatsby…