"…something like the supervisor of an entire team of political agents…"
Cecil Vortex So I was talking to one of my brothers last night, and we agreed that this Pynchon book has bedeviled us long enough. Me, I’ve started Gravity’s Rainbow at least 3 times. And let’s just say I’m very familiar with the first 30 pages. OK, sentences. OK, consonants. Hell, I’ve never even finished The Crying … Read more
Good golly do I love the standards. A while back, you may recall, I posted covers first of “Bye Bye, Blackbird,” and then (with a lotta help from eb and Eileen Dahl) “Second Hand Rose.” Great tunes, both. Here’s the third in this ongoing series of let’s-just-say-non-traditional piano/vocal/guitar takes on jazz standards — “For Every … Read more
That Victorian isn’t old. That car isn’t old. My Sinatra records aren’t old. Not that old. Not really. Even that old tree isn’t old. That old woman who just walked past like she just stepped out of Deuteronomy with a flock of goats trailing behind and a thin little stick and a plan to get … Read more
I’m wearing big pants today big comfy pants size none of your damn business pants so big, so comfy makes me want to have a piece of cake a piece of chocolate cheese cake stretch these big pants out.
Somedays he looks at me like I’m sleeping with his wife. And I’m sure. I’m almost sure. That I’m not.
More Monkey Vortex madness. This week, Tony Jonick goes for two, with another episode of his Minute Murder Mysteries. .
Checking in to find them lying side by side in the dark like sisters comparing notes on what had been the best part of the day.
It was a more innocent time, way back in October of 2004 when I first wrote about Yu-Gi-Oh! and Zach Braff, and my secret rage. We’re all a lot older now, hey? And perhaps a bit wiser too. “What is Yu-Gi-Oh!?” Well, it’s a card game. And a movie. It’s a franchise. It’s a way … Read more
More Monday, more Monkey Vortex Radio Theater. This week: Tony Jonick busts it 1930s-style with what some say may well be the greatest piece of recorded entertainment since Edison invented tiny, pocket-sized people who remember what you say and then repeat it back to you whenever you press on their head! It’s a little number … Read more
There’s a man there by the window. And he’s speaking with such precision you can see the letters spit forth into air shiny newborne serifs spinning. And his words are just hanging out there piling up there in a loose stack by the window free dialog for the taking. I’ll pass.