By Tim Storm
I say, “Fuck the chronology and making sense.” Y’know stream-of-consciousness is more my style anyway; I lack Kerouac’s proficiency at the keyboard, but I do like to drink while I type. I don’t want to do this… for one thing, I have destroyed most of the parts of my brain that deal in memory. For another, there’s the “age” factor, which seems to work something like this: Those things that once seemed really important become completely irrelevant in time. In fact, what once was may never have been, but if it was it might have gone like this: Continue reading
Average Rating: 4.9 out of 5 based on 236 user reviews.
By Max Dropout
The basement of a Memphis church is the last place you’d expect to find Sympathy For The Record Industry proprietor Long Gone John, but it was there that I met him a little over a year ago. I was waiting in line for an afternoon showing of John Michael McCarthy’s punk rock burlesque anthology, Broad Daylight, and there he was — the stationary beacon of focus standing in the recessed light of the hallway, only feet away from me. His presence was modest and unobtrusive, and I would say unassuming, as he maintained a patient stance with arms crossed and eyes scouring the course of hipster rabble parading down the stairwell. I’d heard him referred to as both the Devil and Christ by various associates of his over the years, and his appearance was somewhere in between: interesting enough to consider devilish, but too unpretentious to regard as anything other than warm. Continue reading
Average Rating: 4.8 out of 5 based on 258 user reviews.
By Courtney Jerk & Max Dropout
In the years following the massacre at Columbine High School, nobody bats an eye at the thought of metal detectors, surveillance cameras, or security guards in high schools. But in the year 1982, these measures to ensure the safety and security of a student body would have been balked at by the majority of Americans, and the idea of kids bringing knives and guns into their class rooms to settle school yard tiffs was equally ludicrous. While Mark Lester’s ï¿½Class Of 1984ï¿½ (its title, a nod to Orwell) may have seemed absurd at the time, it is now regarded as nothing short of prophetic with respect to the current state of our education centers. Barring the dated fashion, this story has become honest, though initially only a farfetched work of fantasy to some at the time of its release. Continue reading
Average Rating: 5 out of 5 based on 169 user reviews.
By Christina Whipsnade
Named after a Flamin’ Groovies record, Steeltown’s Teenage Head was created in the 70s by then-high school friends Frank Kerr (Frankie Venom) on vocals, guitarist Gord Lewis, Steve Mahon (Marshall) on bass, and drummer Nick Stipanitz. Disgusted by the disco and prog rock that were so popular at the time, they formed a garage band, practicing every Saturday morning. The band’s practices were obstructed by a neighbourhood curmudgeon, who would consistently call the police whenever the boys plugged in. The same cop would come by each week, stay for a few songs, and offer encouragement of the “keep it up!” variety. Teenage Head’s first live show would be held in their high school cafeteria, and their fellow students loved it. They were the soundtrack to many teenaged, drunken Saturday night parties. With two years of practice and school behind them, the band was ready to play out. When they moved to Toronto, the difference between them and other bands in the area was that they could actually play. Their sound was basically punked up rock n’ roll on speed, with nods to new wave and rockabilly, influenced as much by Eddie Cochrane and Gene Vincent as the New York Dolls and The Stooges. Continue reading
Average Rating: 4.7 out of 5 based on 243 user reviews.
By Max Dropout
You turn to the black board-designated page in your text book and some wordy scenario awaits; you are immediately propelled into one of the most depressing choose-your-own-adventure scenarios you’ve yet to encounter, where as some poor work a day dolt you’re cornered by snarling by a snarling mortgage, student loans, the IRS, and general living expenses incurred by some odd number of children. They’ve hemmed you into a corner with an ocean of paint between you and the answer. You must accept the the fictitious character’s conundrum though and settle into the role, for your entire future depends on it. And once you’ve solved the problem, you turn the page, and once again a similar fate awaits your character. By the time you get to page 1008 four months later, the redundancy has pummelled you into an unconscious state of acceptance. You’ve been conditioned right out of your ambition.
But have you ever wonder though if the gifted classes’ word problems involve scenarios with higher incomes, in ground pools, and better neighborhoods? Perhaps you must fit the variable of an immigrant maid into your division problems. Continue reading
Average Rating: 4.5 out of 5 based on 179 user reviews.