Spiral Collective Mission Statement We believe in art for art’s sake. Our aim is to provide opportunities for non-competitive creativity while promoting a culture that builds a sense of community. We are doing this because it makes us happy. If art makes you happy, making it or taking it, we’re with you.
WHY SPIRAL? A message from the editors. Thanks for your interest in this issue of Columns. This zine is the result of an artistic collaboration currently underway in Lowell. You will notice above that we have included a mission statement for an association called the Spiral Collective. As you may have deduced, this magazine has been produced by members of that collective as part of a broad initiative to foster both growth and appreciation of local art. We have among our ranks writers, musicians, visual artists, bakers, crafters, and people who just plain like creative expression. We are also interested in promoting awareness of political issues relevant on both a local and global level. To this end, we have assembled this magazine in hopes of simultaneously showcasing the talents of local creative minds and promoting awareness of political and personal issues. This magazine will always be open source, and will always be open to submissions. We are committed to knowledge, creativity, cooperation, compassion, and equality. Read our mission statement, and if you feel you can contribute in some way to either this magazine or the collective, please get in touch with us. Please direct submissions, questions, comments, and concerns to columns@spiralcollective.org. Also feel free to send any submissions, letters, or things for review to the PO Box listed on the next page. A spiral begins at a central point and works its way slowly outward, growing exponentially larger with each pass. We aim to be that central point.
Spiral Files..................................................................................................................1 Listerectomy ...............................................................................................................3 Feminism is Alive and Well... And yes, damnit, very much needed! ..........................5 Required Reading.......................................................................................................8 Record Reviews (Keelhaul, Chuck Ragan) ..............................................................10 Forging Ahead ..........................................................................................................13 Movie Review (Special) ............................................................................................18 The Message............................................................................................................19 Poetry & Creative Writing .........................................................................................21 Recipes.....................................................................................................................27 EDITORS Matt McCarthy Katherine Quinn Rich Ferrell Adam Caires
PUBLISHING Jarrod Delong Matt McCarthy
GRAPHIC DESIGN Jarrod Delong
CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Rich Ferrell Matt McCarthy Sarah Lamothe Jarrod Delong Wilfredo Rodriguez Amanda Macchia Kitty Featherbottom Adam Caires Patrick S. Holly O’Blenis Katherine Quinn Dr, Cornelius Simon
CONTACT US COVER Danielle Leone
Website: http://columns.spiralcollective.org Email: columns@spiralcollective.org
ILLUSTRATIONS & PHOTOS Danielle Leone Sarah Lamothe
Postal Mail:
COMICS Rick Stec
Spiral Attn: Columns Zine PO Box 725 Lowell, MA 01853
Spiral Files: 002 / Lamothe, Sarah Ellen (Alias “Sarah”)
Name: Sarah Ellen Lamothe Age: 27
Your pal, Agent Donovan Bilgewater here again to give you another useful description of the kind of mutants we have running amok in our midst. It gives a good Christian man the heebiejeebies. As I mentioned before, these “Spiral” people, or as I like to call them, “communists,” have been going around our fine town trying to convince people that art isn’t something you ought to be making tons of money from. If I’ve ever heard a more un-American thing in my life, may The Lord strike me dead. I’ve been undercover for over six months now, and I’ll tell you, my disguise is starting to feel disgusting… hanging around all these treasonous cooties.
Sign: Cancer Lowell native or emigrant: Grew up in Westford. Moved to Lowell at age 11. Spent brief, fashionable period during early-mid twenties in Allston. Considers Lowell her home. Status: Active, under surveillance. Here is a transcript of the conversation we had. It should aid you fine, upstanding citizens in avoiding such a shady character. DB: Give me the low-down on your art.
And you know who one of the worst is? Sarah Lamothe, that’s who. Working at some hippie-ass hot dog stand, blathering about astrology and homeopathic remedies… Anyway, she’s a Spiral member through and through. I bet her and Fidel Castro would be great friends. They could sit around baking vegan confections and smoking Cuban cigars. I managed to infiltrate a Spiral event a few months back and recorded the following conversation via a microphone in my nose. This information is declassified for your sake. Use it well. -Agent Donovan Bilgewater, Anti-Art Central Command, Earth’s Core.
SL: I put the camera down for many many years to pursue other interests. I am getting back into photography now, and with wiser eyes, which make for better pictures. I do a lot of what could be called "crafting". You know, making cute little things that wouldn't ever be in a museum but that people still enjoy. The things that I craft are too many to be listed here, but the gist of it is that I like to know as many techniques as I can and apply it to whatever I can. I am in an earring phase right now, as quaint and unimportant as it sounds. My other and more instinctual art is food. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I make really, really yummy food; mostly vegan stuff. I am in the middle stages of writing a cook book. And I write poetry but you will probably think it's stupid. DB: I dunno, my taste in poetry is pretty dismal. Alright, what about work? SL: I am the manager of Life Alive. DB: Ah, yes. My favorite hippie-hole. What are your favorite Lowell hang-outs? SL: The Club Diner at 2:15 am on a Saturday morning. And also any downtown alley. Not because I do drugs or anything, I just think they are visually interesting.
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DB: Sounds about right. What about your free SL: Nintendo. time? What do you do when you’re not working or doing art? DB: First right answer all night! Now, in conclusion, could you just give me some of your thoughts on SL: I craft, as stated above, but I also watch an in- the Spiral Collective and how we can destroy… sane amount of movies. In fact, I review movies for ahem… appreciate them? Columns. (The very hippy rag you have in your dirty hands.—DB) SL: What makes me tick is fantasy. My feelings on Spiral are that through the underused power of colDB: In case anyone’s interested in avoiding you, lective conscious we are creating an energy that is where are we most likely to run into you? giving each one of us power, motivation, and inspiration. I feel like Spiral anSL: Honestly, Life Alive. Or the Chelmsford St. Mar- swers a long drowned out call for people to get toket Basket. gether, express themselves, and feel good about it. DB: Ok, don’t expect to see me there! Moving on, who's your favorite local artist? SL: Oh I can't play favorites, I like too much to pick. I guess I would say that someone should go to a Spiral event and hear my loved ones play music, or see the art of the people I love if they haven't done that yet, because otherwise they are missing out on some beautiful and touching things.
So there you have it. Printed above is the only existing photo I have of Ms. Lamothe, stolen from Spiral’s own archives. I hope this has helped you recognize the perpetrators of all of this “art” that has been throwing a monkey wrench, or should I say, a “hammer and sickle”, into the lives of regular folks like you and me. All I can say is that if it DB: Fair enough. Where can we look for your art? weren’t for the threat of nuclear winter, all these commies would have nothing to make all this art SL: In Columns and at Spiral Collective events. about. DB: Ok, on to the interesting part. What's your fa- Say no to art, vorite food? DB. SL: Asparagus. DB: Eh, makes my pee smell. What are some books you enjoy? SL: Anything Steinbeck or Roald Dahl. DB: Hippies both. And some records you really dig? SL: I can't get over 1,000 hurts by Shellac lately, and anything Gillian Welch or Brandi Carlisle. And they don't have a record yet, but I think Lonesome Republic may be my favorite band. DB: A bunch of ham-handed hacks, in my opinion. Nintendo or Sega? 2
LISTERECTOMY WITH DR. CORNILEUS SIMON Government Three (3) things the world/existence could use Alarms more of and Three (3) things the world/existence God could use less of:
Casey Furtado: (+) Dogs Seasons that aren’t winter Slower pace (--) Gimmicks Personal barriers Mental block
Adam Caires: (+) Lasers Flying stuff Raptors (specifically Velociraptors) (--) 3
Rob Guzzardi: (+) Contact with extraterrestrial life Obvious passion and truth in art Hardcore shows (--) People against Pokemon Animal cruelty Premeditated malcontent
Corey Felt: (+) Time Nice people who carry tissues “No”s (--) Responsibility Corey Felt Disease “Yes”s
Joe Lappin: (+) Television Albums Independence Knives (--) Guns Gangs Automobiles
Matt Marchesi: (+) Revolutions Abortions Kidney stones (--) Yuppies/hippies Politicians Politically correct people
Alex Ruthman: (+) Frank Zappa Unbridled expression Sunshine (--) Bullshit Traffic Pai
Dr. Cornileus Simon: (+) Climax United Siestas of America French mother sauces (--) Prom babies Stern talkings to Ed Hardy products
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Feminism Is Alive and Well… And Yes, Damnit, with feminism, read the comments at the bottom, Still Very Much Needed! and revel in the misinformed glory of this view of By Rich Ferrell feminism! More often than not, the comments are left by a variety of men saying things like “feminism Lately I’ve noticed a precipitous decline in is just manhating [sic]. Why would any dude let the people I know who unhesitatingly describe women take advantage of them?” People who say themselves as feminists. It seems to roughly cor- things like this have not only not analyzed the world respond to the overall reactionary anti-feminist around them enough to note that a great many backlash that has been going on for a good twenty people in the world willingly buy into ideologies that years now in the US. In fact, I know a substantial promote misogyny, but have also misunderstood number of people who consider themselves pro- feminism. The image has become pervasive: the gressive in other ways—radical, Marxist, anarchist, angry, loud-mouthed, radical lesbian feminist, eswhatever—and stop short of calling themselves chewing hair removal and bra-wearing while trying feminists. The reasons that they, and a good chunk to promote her crazy, pinko plan of man-hating. of the population, think they have for being averse The reason the image is pervasive is because the to feminism are generally misconceptions, and media latched on to this “feminazi” stereotype in an seem to follow a few basic themes. I will endeavor effort to diffuse feminism’s threat to patriarchal capto debunk those misconceptions in the short dis- italism. Now that it is the fist image that springs to cussion that follows. I will do this because I believe mind when many people hear the word “feminist”, not only that many people who proclaim them- the media has succeeded in fundamentally scramselves not to be feminists in fact are, but also that bling its radical message. How better to discredit a there are still myriad compelling reasons to believe movement about making men and women equal in a program of eradicating patriarchy and its sexist than by portraying it as threatening to individual power structures. men, as well as to much cherished notions of In order to move forward, we need to estab- “proper” female behavior? lish a definition for feminism, and in so doing, perWell, I know some feminists, and none of haps eradicate one of the biggest myths of all. The them come particularly close to this distorted Random House Dictionary tells us that feminism is stereotype. Certainly I do not fit it. Of course, there “the doctrine advocating social, political, and all are various schools of thought in the feminist other rights of women equal to those of men,” and movement, and there is a very small part of it that is also “an organized movement for the attainment is separatist, that does have a great deal of anger of such rights for women.” It is a simplistic definition towards men. Can we blame them in a world where to be sure, as it obscures some of the crucial inter- when a classroom full of college students is asked nal debates among feminists, but it is close enough to write down what they do on a daily basis to avoid to a generally accepted common ground to go for- being raped, the female students write feverishly ward with. Notice that the definition makes no ref- while the male students stare blankly at the page? erence to “making women more powerful than Regardless of the answer to that question, a very men”. This is one of the most common misconcep- small portion of the feminist movement has been tions about feminism: that it is about empowering represented in the media as the archetype, while women to such an extent that men will become dis- in reality, most feminists look just like you and I. empowered in society. This idea seems to be They are men, women, gay, straight, transgender, enough to alienate many men (and even some young, old, black, white, Asian, Hispanic, and all women). But anybody who asserts this idea is ei- variety of other things. Another of the more troubling things I hear ther grossly misinformed or intentionally misrepresenting the goals of the majority of feminists, who when the conversation comes around to feminism want nothing more and nothing less than social, is that “we are living in a post-patriarchal society” political, and all other forms of equality with men. or “there just isn’t any need for feminism anymore”. Another common misconception about feminism is These people will often concede that feminism is that it is about misandry, or “man-hating”. Simply important or necessary in other places in the world browse any YouTube video that has anything to do with “more traditional” cultures, but will argue that 5
in developed Western democracies, patriarchy has been more or less abolished. While it is true that great strides have been made towards equality in Western democracies—women are legally recognized, in most circumstances, as equal—there is still plenty of data that indicates the degree to which women are disadvantaged in society. For example: women make on average about 77 cents for each dollar made by a man (an astonishing wage-gap of 23%!); in 2007, 11% of men lived under the poverty line while 14% of women did; women are the victims of domestic violence four times more often than men; women own businesses at about half the rate of men; and in the 2001 Forbes list of the 100 wealthiest people, only ten were women. Often, these disparities are caused in part by the fact that women do a disproportionate amount of the unpaid work of domestic upkeep, healthcare, and childcare. They are also expected to incur the costs and penalties associated with the reproductive process. Despite the advances we’ve made (thanks in large part to the feminist movement!) this list still strikes me as problematic. It speaks clearly to the fact that patriarchy is far from dead. People believe it to be dead only because our gains on the surface have obscured the deeper and harder to detect effects of sexism. The numbers bear out that women do not do as well as men, even here in the “land of (formal) equality”. This is not to say that all that equality would entail is for women to make as much money as men, or to be CEOs at the same rate as men, but fixing these obvious inequalities is one step on the way to addressing the more pernicious and pervasive sexist attitudes and practices that follow from them. This is what feminism is about. Some of those people who are more committed to their blinders than others will counter this argument with another of the myths about feminism… which is in fact a myth about gender itself. They will say “well, OK, women don’t do as well in society as men, but it is only because it is in women’s nature to do jobs that pay less” or “it is in women’s nature to perform less effectively than men and therefore get paid less”. This appeal to some kind of gender essentialism in order to counter the notion that feminism can, or even should, attempt to change the asymmetrical organization of society is grounded in an incorrect understanding of the sources of behaviors that are
considered “male” and “female”. Countless feminists have convincingly argued the point that women are caught in a sort of “self-fulfilling prophecy” by which society puts a complex and interlocking system of pressures on them to look, act, and think in certain ways. Lo and behold, they often end up looking, acting, and thinking these ways—ways of being that are defined as “positive” but also “inferior” and hence “female” by a maledominated patriarchal structure. Simone de Beauvoir famously wrote “one is not born, but rather becomes, a woman. No biological, psychological, or economic fate determines the figure that the human female presents in society; it is civilization as a whole that produces this creature.” Similarly, Anne E. Cudd and Leslie E. Jones have written that an important effect of sexist practices is that “women are made more dependent on others, usually men. By reducing the opportunities that women have available to them, women are less able to clearly establish, both to themselves and to others, their general ability to accomplish high-paying (or high status) tasks. Where these patterns are left unchallenged there is thus little to counter the claim that women are, by nature, more dependent.” Both of these examples point to the fact that what appears to be the “nature” of women (and also of men) is actually the result of complex pressures that are enacted on human beings over the course of a lifetime. If women are said to be “more nurturing”, “more intuitive”, or “more emotional”, it is because these are the attributes of acceptable femininity that are indoctrinated in children as they grow up. People internalize these definitions and come to believe them about themselves. This may not be problematic in itself, except that sexist notions have placed these “feminine” qualities as inferior to “masculine” ones such as being “more aggressive”, “more abstract”, and “more rational”. The fact that most people cleave to the idea that these differences are actually related to whether one is born with a penis or a vagina is highly motivating evidence that converts to feminism are badly needed in order to confront these damaging myths. To put it plainly: there is no compelling reason to believe that there are any inherent psychological differences between men and women. A final complaint frequently leveled against feminists (and I’ve saved this one for last because it is the most difficult to address, and also the one 6
that prevents many women from becoming feminists) is that it doesn’t have any interest in or sympathy with the things that most women actually want. Where feminists will say “women should get out of the house and pursue careers and not devote all their time to family”, many women will respond “but having a family is what I want to do… and who are you to tell me that what I want is wrong?” The reputation of feminists as being “antifamily”, while in some extreme strains of feminism is fair, it is generally an oversimplification of feminist critiques of the family. It is not so much important to feminism whether or not a woman is happy with their lot in life, but whether or not a woman’s lot in life is the result of oppression. If we can agree that oppression is inherently “bad”, then we have a common ground to start from. Many women end up in certain situations because of lack of choice. As radical feminist Catharine MacKinnon has written, “when material conditions preclude 99% of your options, it is not meaningful to call the remaining 1%--what you are doing—your choice.” For feminists, then, the issue is not whether it is “good” or “bad” to want a family over a career, but whether this was actually a free choice made without the intervention of patriarchal norms. But in cases of oppression, and as Marilyn Frye convincingly argues, women count as an oppressed group, the ideas of “free choice” and “willful consent” become less meaningful. Because oppressed groups, women included, often come to internalize their oppression, they begin to believe themselves to actually be more suited to certain things over others. They develop what Marx calls a “false consciousness”. And when many people are making decisions based on a false idea of what their capabilities are, and when those decisions are also constraining or damaging or harmful, it becomes even more immediately necessary to confront the oppressive factors that caused the false consciousness in the first place. This too is what feminism is about. My intent in this piece has been to confront and expose some of the myths and misconceptions associated with feminism in the public mind. My experience is that not only has the word itself has been given a negative connotation, but the movement’s goals have been distorted and appropriated to the extent that many people, even ones who are otherwise “progressive” reject it on a variety of levels. In reality, all you need to do is ask 7
yourself two simple questions: do you believe that the inequalities between men and women, as well as the patriarchal structures that maintain them, are negative? And secondly, do you believe that something should be done about it? If you answered yes, then you are a feminist. Welcome. As for myself, I am proud to be a feminist; I feel that being a feminist is the highest expression of respect for humanity. In this respect, feminism is also valuable because many of the methods that it uses to expose and remedy the harms of sexist culture towards women can be adapted to recognizing and combating racist, classist, ageist, ableist, and homophobic aspects of cultures. Feminism is about equality; it is about humanity. And yes, damnit, still very much needed!
Anne E. Cudd & Leslie E. Jones, “Sexism,” in Feminist Theory: A Philosophical Anthology, eds. Anne E. Cudd & Robin O. Andreasen (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005), 82; “The Straight Facts on Women in Poverty,” at http://www.americanprogress.org/issues/2008/10/women_poverty.h tml (accessed October 16, 2009). Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex, trans. H.M. Parshley (New York: Vintage Books, 1952), xxxiv. Cudd and Jones, 75. Catharine MacKinnon, Women’s Lives, Men’s Laws (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2005), 259-260. Sandra Bartky, “On Psychological Oppression,” in Feminist Theory: A Philosophical Anthology, eds. Anne E. Cudd & Robin O. Andreasen (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2005), 110-111.
Required Reading By Matt McCarthy The Dispossessed – Ursula K. LeGuin Harper & Row, New York, New York. Pub. 1974
The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. LeGuin, is perhaps the culmination of the decades of science fiction and social commentary writing she has under her belt. LeGuin is an award-winning novelist, poet, and short-story writer. She, on multiple occasions, has won both the Hugo and Nebula awards simultaneously, as well as The National Book Award. The Dispossessed is one of her science fiction novels that has had the honor of winning all three. LeGuin’s writing very clearly displays her feminist and anarchist background. and The Dispossessed is no exception, as it vividly channels the anarchism of Peter Kropotkin. The Dispossessed is a mid-length sci-fi novel that takes place in a fictional universe –one used in a number of LeGuin’s novels-- that specifically focuses around the planets Anarres and Urras. Anarres is the home world of the anarchists who, led by a woman named Odo, rebelled against the governments of Urras and settled on the neighboring planet. The novel specifically focuses on the decision by its protagonist, Shevek, to leave Anarres to develop his general temporal theory on Urras, a world much akin to our own. The population of Anarres views Shevek’s decision to leave as treachery, as dealings with Urrasti are very taboo. The story alternates its narrative between the past, specifically the events leading up to Shevek’s decision, and the present when he is in
residence at the university on Urras. The novel presents Shevek’s past largely in an attempt to show his growing alienation from his society and their ideals, culminating in his deviation from the status quo and the “laws” created by societal norms. On Urras, Shevek meets scholars and representatives of analogous modern states, where, as was current at the time of writing, two dominant states and ideologies representing the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. were locked in a political cold war and were secretly battling for Shevek’s undeveloped theories. Through his experiences on Urras, Shevek has a revelation and decides to return to Anarres, completing his journey. As with most works of fiction, The Dispossessed’s true beauty lies in its development of certain central themes. Chief among these themes is that of the social revolution, which is not surprisingly a central theme found in most anarchist thought. The central premise is that for any real political and economic revolution to take place, society’s line of thinking must first change, reaching a level where society both understands and agrees to the complete political and economic change. The social revolution in The Dispossessed has already happened and is evidenced by the balanced job complexes that Anarrestis have. For those not familiar with balanced job complexes, it is the practice of all society enjoying both rewarding labor and sharing in more menial labor. This is one of the main examples of Kropotkin’s influence on the work, where every citizen performs a rote task for a period of time to fulfill their social obligations. LeGuin spends a great deal of time relating the change in social thought through the use of a constructed language, Pravic. In Pravic there are no terms for ownership or marriage since in an anarchist society such as Anarres these phenomena do not exist. Another central theme is the need for revolutions to continuously evolve. As shown through Shevek’s past, Anarres’ society fell into a static position where power structures were allowed to form. In Shevek’s case it was most clearly illustrated in his relations with a colleague of his who needed to approve all of Shevek’s publications. The problem Shevek had was that this colleague would take partial credit for Shevek’s work and would not let Shevek work with scholars on Urras to advance his theory. This communication with 8
Urras was a major taboo among the Anarresti and this taboo was the result of a stagnant social revolution. The following is an excerpt from Shevek’s address at the central coordinating council where he makes his case for leaving Anarres: …what we’re after is to remind ourselves that we didn’t come to Anarres for safety, but for freedom. If we must all agree, all work together, we’re no better than a machine. If an individual can’t work in solidarity with his fellows, it’s his duty to work alone. His duty and his right. We have been denying people that right. We’ve been saying, more and more often, you must work with the others, you must accept the rule of the majority. But any rule is tyranny. The duty of the individual is to accept no rule, to be the initiator of his own acts, to be responsible. Only if he does so will the society live, and change, and adapt, and survive. We are not subjects of a state founded upon law, but members of a society founded upon revolution. Revolution is our obligation: our hope of evolution. The revolution is in the individual spirit, or it is nowhere. It is for all, or it is nothing. If it is seen as having any end, it will never truly begin. We can’t stop here. We must go on. We must take the risks.
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There is a huge amount of science fiction available and much of it deals with deep social issues, but there are very few who so brilliantly combine the creative flair and potent philosophy as well as LeGuin’s The Dispossessed. As you read this you will find yourself enchanted by the romanticism of life on Anarres and pained by the eerily familiar life experienced on Urras. This book is truly magnificent, and I consider it an essential read for anyone who is interested in radical social thought or simply a great story.
Record Reviews By Jarrod Delong
Keelhaul Keelhaul's Triumphant Return to Obscurity CD/2xLP (Hydrahead Records)
The title of this record is very fitting. Keelhaul is a four-piece progressive rock/metal band from Cleveland, OH. They’ve been at it since 1997, and have released three previous albums, a few EPs, splits, and comp tracks on labels such as Escape Artist, Hydrahead, and Cambodia Recordings, among others. Yet even after all this time, the tours, the releases… they’re still relatively unknown. This is the first anyone’s heard from Keelhaul since 2003’s Subject to Change Without Notice (CD on Hydrahead, LP on Escape Artist). This new album is available on CD from Hydrahead Records, and they’ll be releasing the vinyl soon. The album opens with the fast-paced and frantic riffing of “Pass the Lampshade”. Like many of their songs, this one is instrumental. The lack of vocals here doesn’t work against it in any way be-
cause it’s very compelling, musically. Clever riffs and good song-writing keep your ear for this kind of song. The second track, “Glorious Car Activities”, is a slower progressive jam that introduces you to Keelhaul’s gritty but sparse vocals. The songs on this record flow in such a way that if you’re just listening while doing other things, you might not even notice how many songs have passed. This might seem strange considering the songs are generally between three and five minutes long. The album moves right along, never getting dull, sometimes with vocals, sometimes without. The fifth track, “THC for One”, is a little different. It pulls you along with an infectious riff and ¾ beat, and vocals about, well… getting high alone. Keelhaul’s lyrical content isn’t all that interesting much of the time, and this is a good example. That, however, just demonstrates that they get by fine without vocals, and that when the vocals are present, they’re not overbearing, they add slightly to the mix of everything else that’s going on. There have been days where I’ve just played this album front to back three times in a row while fucking around on the computer. It just doesn’t get boring, and that’s what it has over their previous albums. I’ve never liked any one particular album of theirs enough to keep listening to it. This is a clear evolution of their sound, and a strong step forward. This album will appeal to fans of progressive, mathy riff-rock. While it’s hard to compare or liken them to other bands, I think people who are generally into things like Dysrhythmia, Mogwai, These Arms Are Snakes, Russian Circles, Knut, Isis, and others that have elements of these bands will be into it. Even if you’ve heard Keelhaul in the past, I’d urge you to give this new album a listen. It rips pretty fucking hard. Keelhaul is touring Europe through December with the likes of bands such as Isis and Circle. The album is available on CD and 2xLP (on black, white, and translucent purple vinyl) from HydraHead Records. http://www.keelhaul.info/ http://hydrahead.com/ 10
Chuck Ragan Gold Country CD/LP (SideOneDummy) Chuck Ragan has more releases than seems reasonable, since he only started recording his solo material in 2006. Gold Country is his second proper full-length, and his first that is exclusive to SideOneDummy (his previous album, Feast or Famine, saw it’s vinyl released through No Idea Records). It all started with a monthly 7” series on No Idea Records. That was a cool idea; I subscribed to it, and got all 7 of the 7” records over time (though not always on time). Those were his first recordings, entitled The Blueprint Sessions. They were rough, but good songs. It was just a taste of what was to come. If you’re not familiar with Ragan, he fronted Gainesville, FL’s beard-rock pioneers, Hot Water Music, since 1993. Though he’s most known for his work with HWM, he has also been a part of many other projects over the years; the closest to his current body of work would be the now-defunct band Rumbleseat. They were an acoustic folk band consisting of Ragan, Chris Wollard (also of Hot Water Music), and Samantha Jones (from Bitchin’). Chuck even re-recorded the Rumbleseat song “California Burritos” for his first solo album.
So onto his latest work, Gold Country. With this album it seems that Chuck is finding the sound he’s been looking for in his solo material. He’d already experimented in using more varied instru11
mentation on past releases, with varying degrees of success. This album opens strongly with “For Goodness Sake”. The song opens with acoustic guitar and vocals, and comes in at just the right time with bass and drums, etc. The backing vocals are very tasteful and add just the right element for each given part. By the time the chorus kicks in, you’re hooked, regardless of whether or not you’re familiar with all of his work, or this is your first listen. The second track, “Glory”, takes a different turn towards the more alt-country style that you may have heard on Bristle Ridge (which was a collaboration with singer/songwriter Austin Lucas). Some of his songs in this style seem a little off-putting to me, but this one is done well. The banjo, fiddle, handclaps, and backing vocals don’t take you too far away from his original sound, but serve to enhance the mood of the song, which is very uplifting. “Done and Done” was originally recorded with The Blueprint Sessions back in 2006, but benefits from a better interpretation on this record. If you hadn’t heard the original, you’d think he wrote it with the rest of the album. Another one that’s not quite new is “Ole Diesel”, which was released as a 7” single on Rat Patrol Records (UK) in 2007. But like most of the 7” records he’s released, the original served as more of a demo with just acoustic guitar, vocals, and harmonica. For the album version, he’s slowed the pace of the song to match the mood, and added harmonizing violins and piano to accentuate the spirit of this great tune. I tend to lean more towards his slower, more soulful songs; a good example of this is “Don’t Say a Word”. Every individual part of this song works together to create something quite moving. With lines like “Damn the world, damn the pain, find a way”, he finds a way to create a downbeat song but keep it more hopeful than sad. Another good example of this is the album’s closing song, “Get Em All Home”. The chorus begs “I’m on my way, feet don’t fail me now; ‘cause my brothers lay in the dirt all around; god rest these souls, get this one home where the sun sets low and the ocean is calm; get ‘em all home”. This is an obvious lament of a failed war and those who have lost their lives in the process. This album doesn’t exactly flow perfectly song-to-song as he’ll move from slow, moody songs to fast-paced, country-tinged tunes. It never gets boring, and it’s a good listen. Highly recom-
mended for fans of any of his previous work, and anybody who is into indie/acoustic/folk music with a hint of country. After hearing this, and all of his other releases, I feel that this is one of his best works, though his next album may just break the mold and be a masterpiece. We shall see. Gold Country is available now from SideOneDummy in CD, Vinyl, and MP3 formats. Ragan is touring Europe in September, but he’ll be back stateside headlining the second annual Revival Tour from October 13th – November 22nd. Joining him on the Revival Tour will be Joey Cape (Lagwagon, Bad Astronaut), Tim Barry (Avail), Dave Hause (The Loved Ones), Austin Lucas, Jon Snodgrass (Drag the River, Armchair Martian), Chad Price (Drag the River, ALL), Stephen Brodsky (Cave In), and many more. http://www.chuckraganmusic.com/ http://sideonedummy.com/ http://www.therevivaltour.com/
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Forging Ahead By Sarah Lamothe Kest Schwartzman and her work, Vagabond Jewelry, can be described in a word: epic. I first saw her stuff at this past Folk Festival, at which time I had no choice but to forget about my silly $20 budget and purchase a cuff that I have worn, and got compliments on, almost every day since. I say I had no choice because there is no way I would have ever forgiven myself if I did not acquire that particular cuff. Let me explain… When I say “jewelry” you might think of a golden chain with a diamond heart at the end, or a simple silver ring crested with turquoise, or maybe even some classic pearl earrings, all of these things purchased and worn to make someone feel special, unique, and precious. But none of these things are special or unique. Department stores and pink sporting sales ladies have created a tired and lifeless trinket market. Walk into ten woman’s homes, in ten different states and look in their ten jewelry boxes and you will find the same old crap; semi precious stones hugged by over-used metals in the same redundant forms. All worn, or specifically not worn, to prove some kind of worth or to evoke the glamour of a well loved woman; “My daddy once loved me this gold locket much”, “my gran loved me enough to give me her pearls”, “my boyfriend loves me this huge diamond mined by slaves much!!!”. And is any of it true? Well, kind of. Given as a gift jewelry is a symbol of how much one cherishes another. And purchased for yourself, jewelry is a symbol of your worth and success. I have no problem with adornment; in fact I believe adornment is a special human art to be respected. In the best scenario, adornment should make one stand out, it should be an expression of inner beauty which is a completely unique and limitless thing. Does your jewelry really make you feel that way? Mine usually doesn’t, my jewelry usually makes me feel like some kind of retro scenester or a J.C. Penney ‘boho chic” advertisement. And then I saw my future cuff, made by Schwartzman, and my inner voice said, “that is me, that is mine!”. And a mere forty-five dollars later, my (superficial) self was complete. I then went home and perused Schwartzman’s online store, vagabondjewelry.net, and found myself in an unfamiliar state: awe. Every sin13
gle piece is it’s own being, every item is unique. And even though most of her things are free of stones and made from copper, a relatively cheap metal to work with in the jewelry business, every item was precious. I coveted these twisted and empyrean things. Two months later I met with Schwartzman to discuss her method and inspiration. She was not what I expected. She was not the aloof, ethereal, red-haired fire goddess, wielding a hammer, I was picturing. She was instead a short and average looking woman with glasses, her long brown hair tied back in a braid, wearing a flowery blouse and maroon cotton pants. She was young and friendly and funny. Her vendor stall was up in the ever pathetic Culture Fest. Business was slow, nothing like the Folk Festival which, as she explained, was her most profitable fair this past summer. So, she had time to take a walk…
Your stuff is very well received I hope you know. “Yay!” Did you go to school for this kind of stuff? “Sort of. I went to the Massachusetts College of Art and I was trained as a silver smith. That does not include these kinds of techniques. When you are trained as a metal smith you are trained in a very traditional manner. A lot of this(her work) came from a chance encounter with a person who was wearing this bracelet with this one very thin crease
She lets the piece become what it wants to down the middle and I asked her how she had done that and she’s like ‘I just folded it and un- be, instead of forcing the metal into what she wants folded it’, and I was like ‘Oh my god!’…fucking ge- it to be. “Very seldom do I know what the piece is nius! And pretty much everything from then out has going to look like before I start” Looking at her pieces, “is like looking at stemmed from that one line.” clouds”, she says; it’s interpretive. The cuff she’s wearing during the interview looks like a rolled leaf So there is some experimentation to it? “Oh, it’s all experimentation. Because I had been or a feather to me. To her it looks like the ripples to school, and I had that base, I knew how copper on water a small boat would make. There is no doubt that her work makes play for one’s imaginamoved, which has been very important.” tion, and this is why it is so wearable. One piece I find your stuff to be very organic. Do you find can look dainty and feminine or grizzly and warcopper to lend itself a little bit easier to those beaten or soft and warm like fawn fur, all at once. forms? “Copper is a very friendly metal; it goes where you Your stuff is available online. Do your pieces ask it to go in a way that most other metals wont. I move very quickly? have folded gold, it does the same thing, but I can’t “It depends; it’s not uncommon for a piece to sell afford to experiment with gold. But, I mean, there’s the day after it’s up. I also have pieces that have something earthy about copper, it’s the color of been with me for three years, and the two pieces can look almost exactly the same. I always feel bad dirt!” for the ones that don’t sell, ‘it’s not your fault!’” That’s funny, your pieces definitely seem to have a spirit, each unto their own, they seem to have their own presence. When you are at these events and you see people buying your pieces, do the people seem to match the piece in personality? “About half of the time it’s going the opposite as I would have expected; someone will walk in wearing khakis and a pink button down shirt and walk out with the piece with armored points on it.” (she makes a motion here with her hands around her head, like she’s trying to stuff invisible cotton into and invisible space helmet, I interpret this as ‘a big and crazy necklace’) “It is often surprising that So obviously you get inspired by organic way… and then sometimes you do know; somethings in nature; its very evident in your work. times they walk in, you pick it up and go, ‘this one’, Other people that have seen your work find it and they say, ‘YES!’.” to be almost fantasy based, you could imagine your stuff in Lord of the Rings, other people I really appreciate that you sell pieces for men find your work to be very industrial. Do you aim and women, and some that are for either. for any of those, what is your thought process? Which sells better? “To be honest I am mostly playing with the copper “The men’s pieces sell, but more women wear jewitself. And some forms end up looking very or- elry. When men come in and they love it, they tend ganic… when I am working with brass, which I do to love it more than the women do.” sometimes, brass is much more conducive to clean straight lines, which ends up looking very indus- Maybe because it is so rare for a man to find something so fitting. trial.” “Right, they have less options out there.” 14
I recall entering Kest’s vender stall for the first time. It felt magical. Her pieces evoke that feeling of legend and myth. I looked around for a bit, but was almost immediately drawn to this one cuff, and when I put it on I knew I had to have it. This was the piece of jewelry I had always been looking for! This was the bit of adornment that completed my glamour, the thing to make my fashion fantasy complete. This wasn’t a mere piece of jewelry; this was a talisman that would help me complete my quest! (Or whatever the modern equivalent of a quest is)
Magnifying this feeling is the fact that there is almost no one making jewelry that looks like this, Kest only knows of one other person using the technique of folding and unfolding and he uses silver more frequently, and does more sculpture. Furthermore, Kest plays with color in a way that others won’t. Her copper pieces are not just simply copper colored, they seem burnt, aged, they have reds, purples, blues, and greens. She started admiring the colors hidden in the folds. She stopped pickling in between heating, and found that she loved the colors that emerged; colors that she was told in school were “uncontrollable and unusable”. “When you are learning in a guild system, an apprentice system, a school system, you’re taught the one way to do something, and that may not always be the best way, it’s just the way it’s been done for hundreds of years”. Kest’s experiments yield treasures from another realm; pointed collar necklaces reminiscent 15
of wicked witches and fairy queens, cuffs for Conan (the barbarian) and friends, rings your metal head boyfriend will wear, and masks that look like something perhaps from David Bowie’s collection. Without any of the usual boundaries, Kest creates jewelry ranging from the delicate and affordable to a three-thousand dollar, steampunky, swamp sparrow mask entitled “Ghost”. Both of which, and everything in-between are just delicious. Please check out her website for sales and events that she will be attending. And also, buy me things.
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Movie Review By Sarah Lamothe Special First off, I want to inform you folks that these movie reviews, or at least the ones written by me, are going to focus on just one film an issue, and I will only review movies worth seeing. No more negative reviews!
That being said, my positive review of the month goes to Special starring Michael Rapaport in what may be the absolute best performance of his entire lifetime. Les (Rapaport) is a self doubting, comic-loving, meter maid who begins taking an experimental antidepressant. Within a few days he begins to experience superhero-like powers, such as floating, moving through walls, telepathy, and immortality. He starts to fight crime, donning a super suit with the logo from the pharmaceutical company on the back. The thing is, none of this is really happening, he has not gained any super powers, he has just become so medicated that his mind makes it seem like he is a hero. When no one else finds his powers amazing, and police as well as the pharmaceutical company begin to track him down, he sees the
world as corrupt, and fights a number of “villains” for the right to keep his pills and hence his powers. The film did two remarkable things for me; one is it made me hysterically laugh, and the other is that it left me feeling confident that the tide of Americans loving their chems is turning. And that is the big picture in this little film; a man fighting the power his medication has over him. Les’s dreams come true when he discovers his powers; his world will change, he will be important! But when he eventually realizes that it is all a falsity, that his super powers (a metaphor for the feeling of being normal for a mentally ill person) are not real, only chemically induced, he must decide if he should keep going with this fantasy or stop and go back to his mundane and pathetic life. And that is a question facing many people: be chemically happy all of the time, or experience the daily pain of reality? This film is low budget, but it works perfectly since Les is a low budget super hero. The special effects are hokey, but in a way they must be similar to the cheap tricks Les’ mind must play to keep him believing he can walk through walls and float. Through it all Michael Rapaport makes us feel Les’ pain and exuberance… at many times I wondered if Les and Rapaport were not identical in spirit. When given the chance to be the lead in a film, the normally childish and un-remarkable Rapaport dons his super-acting suit and creates one of the most touching, believable, and human characters of the past years’ films. It’s totally unexpected and a delight. By the end you are cheering for Les as well as Rapaport. The comic aspect of this film is refreshing as well. Ironic, silly, and as darkly disturbing, there’s no Seth Rogan action scenes, or bestiality, or anything else so insulting to the funny bone. By the end of this film I would hope that you would feel as I did, rallied and hopeful, not just that we will eventually slip out of the grasp that pills have on us as a society, but also that each one of us can become empowered and can achieve remarkable things. I believe that Special is a very important film.
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The Message By Wilfredo Rodriguez His name was Adam. For a while all he would do was sit around and watch the TV. For years he left everything unfinished. There was a half-mounted ship in a bottle near the entertainment center. Two sets of bookcases from the bargain store appeared to be half way assembled next to boxes filled with books. The mountain of mail was quickly reaching Mt. Everett proportions. It really seemed like he was the definition of a slacker. However, he was mentally and physically fit. He was a good-looking and sharp young man but lacked any sense of organization. When I heard all of this, I wondered, what kind of bastard would let his perfect life wither away watching TV. It's been almost three years since he started to cocoon himself in the house and nobody really knew why. I admit, all this time I've been a terrible friend. I just assumed we drifted apart. After a few unanswered phone calls I just stopped trying. Then a neighbor called me. She said he was living on take out food and his parents inheritance. She described the house and his strange behavior. I took a minute to react and decided to pay him a visit. When I found Adam, he was half asleep in the couch. I thought about the nature of our friendship as I surveyed the place. I remembered the days when we were inseparable. I realized that I was the closest thing he had to brother. Somehow, I felt like I let this happen. The apartment was a complete mess. Boxes of pizza created a filth skyline that reached the ceiling. I couldn't believe there wasn't a single rodent or insect around. At first I thought they were just hiding but I quickly dismissed that theory after I saw the pile of trash accumulated in the kitchen. There was just no way animals would stay away from all that stuff; it was the rat version of paradise. I gagged a couple of times because of the smell. It didn't smell rancid but it was a pungent smell nonetheless. Poor Adam looked like a castaway pirate in boxer briefs. He was slouched to the left drooling on the TV remote. “Adam! Are you alive?” I said to him. “The landlady gave me the keys.” He clinched to the remote control and woke up confused. He grabbed a moleskine pad that 19
was hidden between the sofa cushions. After shuffling through the pages he gave the pad to me. It was filled with scribbles and all I could decipher was one sentence: “There's a message on the TV.” “Marcos... Marcos...” he pointed at the static on the TV. “There's a message, it's important. I haven't figured it out yet.” “Calm down Adam,” I said as calmly as I could. “I'll get you some help man.” “No... no... no... shit...” he frantically look for his pad and then realized I had it. “Give me the pad.” “What message are you talking about? Look I can get you some help. I'm staying at a hotel nearby...” I said before he interrupted me by yanking the pad from my hand. “No... no... look it's binary numbers. Can you read it? It says 'There's a message on the TV'” he said while staring directly at the static. “I can't read it. I don't know what you're talking about,” I refrained from judging him and reluctantly agreed to humor his delusion. Then he pressed his left eye on the screen. “That can't be healthy Adam.” “God, please, look closely! You stubborn Puerto Rican bastard. LOOK! The message is in the TV.” He was sweating now and the room was getting uncomfortably hot. Whenever he blinked the static around the eye would settle into a grey color spot. Then he started to ignore me. “Shhh...” he said to me and then began to whisper to the TV but I couldn't make out what he was saying. “Look Adam, you need some help and I think...” then the grey color spot around his eye on the screen began to grow. He took a step back and the entire screen turned white. Then my name appeared on the TV as if someone was typing it on a computer. Then they spelled my full name, my date of birth, the town I was born in and what seemed like journal entries about my life. “This isn't funny Adam...” I said just before loosing my breath. I could see my thoughts on the TV. What I was thinking about, the things I was remembering. At that moment I was trying to find logical explanations for the whole thing and that reminded me of my father's lecture about reason and humanity. “You see it don't you Marcos!” he jumped out of joy as if my delusion validated his. It wasn't long before the image in the TV changed. The image was peeling off like a fruit and behind it was
what seemed like an empty white room. It wasn't the TV image of a white room; it was an actual white room in the TV. After the whole room was within full view, the back wall began to push back into a seemingly endless horizon. “Whoa, do you see that Marcos. The message... It's a message... finally... they'll reveal the message.” “I don't know... I think someone is messing with your cable man or someone slipped some LSD on my continental breakfast from the hotel.” I said that because I wanted to believe it was just in my imagination. I wanted to believe Adam was just crazy and it was the kind of crazy that was contagious. “The message! It's the message!” he screeched and then sat within inches of the screen. He extended his arm into the TV screen and grabbed a pair of sunglasses. From my view point I could see small letters scrolling down the lens. I leaned forward and dared to get closer to the TV set. He took the sun glasses off and the image on the TV changed. In big bold red letters I could read the sentence “STAND BY FOR SECOND PART OF MESSAGE” “That's it, I'm going out to get some help. Someone is seriously messing with you. It's... there's something here. Maybe it's that thing that made pilgrims burn...” before I could finish the sentence I was paralyzed. When I regained consciousness I was sitting next to Adam with a full beard. The TV seemed like a wall of red text. I took a closer look and the same sentence was written over and over again: “END OF MESSAGE, END OF MESSAGE.” Then in small black letters I could read the words: “now duck!” Before I could decipher the message Adam tackled me and we both landed under the sofa. I felt a shockwave and after that, I passed out again. When I woke up I was on the sofa, next to Adam. The TV was shattered into pieces and it was so bright outside it was blinding. I had a moleskine notebook in one hand and a pen in the other hand. I paged through the notebook and on the first page it read: “His name was Adam...”
RS
The end
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What We Have In Common By Adam Caires There are some things We just can’t know Like what exists in a black hole But knowledge is power And what can’t be controlled is threatening So we invent new knowledge as needed Most people believe in God Believe in karma Believe in reincarnation Believe in an afterlife They explain the unknown And fill that void With anything that fits Like square pegs Forced through round holes I admit that I know nothing Pretend to be enlightened Act as though I know a lot And attempt to fill the black hole too Only with liquor The truth is in the way The approaches are so different And they soothe us all the same Which is to say Not very much It’s what we have in common God and Me By Adam Caires The thing that causes most To feign they know a god Is birthing my resolve To let gods pass me by Without saying, “Hello”
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By Kitty Featherbottom And then there’s you. With your child-like wonder and incomprehensible faith in humanity, in goodness, and in nature, there’s you. With your ability to make everything make sense in a way no one else ever can, while at the same time being able to drive me mad at the drop of a hat, there’s you. With your smile and laugh that make me know everything will always be alright, there’s you. With your crazy accent and unfailing ability to know exactly what to do next, there’s you. With your giggle and beat so bright and loud I can always hear it, always feel it, even from so far away, there’s you. With your constant stealing of glances in the most innocent of ways, and flashing a million-dollar-fromthe-middle-of-your-heart smile, there’s you. With your inability to see past the present, while still honestly and openly embracing the now, and your crazy way of always being so strong, there’s you. With your unwarranted distance somehow balanced by the love and connection of make-your-own family, there’s you. With your never-failing acceptance, heart on your sleeve, pure, true, and genuine love even when it takes work, there’s you. With your walls still up after all this time but your permanent mark there forever, and your oversized-forthe-best-of-reasons ego, there’s you. With your wish they were green but not green-green more like emerald green eyes, and arms that exclusively give out make-me-melt hugs, there’s you. With your smile so bright no matter how much time goes by, and your ridiculous schemes that are born from the best of intentions, there’s you. With your silly ways and perfect pairing of child meets adult fun loving but serious, there’s you. With your holier-than-thou attitude and constant inability to see through someone else’s eyes, while still being the oldest and the always, there’s you. With your incredible strength and beauty that you’ll never fully embrace, your ability to make the best of ever single situation, and your way of always hearing what goes unsaid, there’s you. With your infectious ability to still be a pea no matter the distance or time that goes between meetings in the pod, there’s you. With your dreams, still a dreamer after everything, still an inspiration even though you’ll never know it, there’s you. With your indefinable ways, always out of reach, never a regret but evolved into an innocent friend with a complex soul, 22
there’s you. With your illogical actions and speaking in tongues that do not always express what you intend, coupled with the tenderest of hearts and a genuine understanding of what’s deep inside, there’s you. With your terrible dance moves and impressive evolution, there’s you. With your matching spirits and way above my head concepts mixed with the best nostalgic longing, there’s you. With your combination of old meets new and the ultimate should-have-been-born-in-another-decade state of mind, there’s you, With your fits like a well-loved sweater essence, your you know so beautiful eyes that are not, in fact, sullen, your so satisfying cocoon, and your ability to make me feel okay with feeling vulnerable, there’s you. And without you there is not me. So thankfully, there’s you.
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A Fifteen-Minute Exercise on a Scene From My sweaters and tired cheekbones. This isn't my Past grandfather. My grandfather must have gone away. By Amanda Macchia When my family was busy I wandered into the basement to find something new. There were "It's more of a grimace than a smile, though boxes of pictures I'd never seen before and here I if you knew the man you'd hardly be able to tell. He found out more about my grandfather than I'd ever said last week to my dad on the phone, "Bobby, I'm known. He was an avid traveller and had dragged dying," with such sadness and an unwillingness to my grandma halfway across the world. He could accept the truth of those three words. My dad was cook, he was a mason, and he had family and optimistic, trying to keep his hopes up, but I can friends I'd never met or known. only imagine how much pain flooded through him I found a picture of him kissing a baby with with each of grandpa's gasps. And now he sits here that smile he used to wear like a badge of honor. in this chair too big for his loose and wandering That was me. I cried a little, feeling the picture over body to grasp. The sunlight filtering through the and over, holding it up to my face and smelling the shades deepens the shadows of dust that float dust, old ink, and cardboard pressing the cool film around his face and his eyes are gone of light; against my cheek. I tucked it in my back pocket. I they're glazed over with the milky texture of phlegm breathed and let my hands and fingertips run over and the sadness of unnecessary anticipation. It's the grey cold slate of the basement walls that used quiet. to be his den. I fingered the Italian flags and old Grandma is cooking and it smells like olive wine bottles. I breathed, and then I took my steps oil and sauce, and the windy tree branches tap back upstairs to my worried grandmother, my stiffly against the window like a reminder of the passing smiling father, and the tired corpse that was once seconds that just seem to keep slipping and slip- my grandpa." ping away. A low, guttural noise clears his throat and his lips part slightly then fall back into place like sand paper on a neglected wall. Any time she comes in with medicine or food, her eyes so sincerely worried and preoccupied with her own suffering, his grimace deepens. He's become impatient and grumpy. And sad. He is too tired to sit up, lie down, eat, or talk. Each day he says less and less, eats littler, looks sadder. This is what dying slowly feels like. My dad says to me, "You have to be positive with him, Mandee." All I want to do is be honest. Through his death I experience something that only he and I can reconcile. I wasted so much time that now I'm scrambling to finish what I started. I fear my needs are making him frailer, reminding him more deeply of the race to beat time, of what he won't experience, or what he chose to give up. Yet, I need the stories that only his voice can tell. How can I understand life without it? It's rough, gritty, loving texture could capture me in a moment. I've only seen him mad once or twice, but I prefer to remember him as the small, emotional, proud Italian grandfather he spent most of his time being. Seeing him like this, now, here, it feels foreign and wrong. Folds of skin covered by oversized 24
up and are no longer emotionless, and he's not so still. She's feeling more free and calm, but still wondering if it's real. It's dark and raining lightly outside, but inHe frowns for no good reason and wears his hair messy all the time. His eyes lack any emotion side it's close to perfect. Who knows what he could when she looks into them looking for something or come up with next, and who knows what is to beanything at all. Even with his integrity, he's com- come of the two of them. They're living in fatal atpelled to decieve and compelled to scar her all over traction and aren't despising despite the again. She pushes the questions into the back of distractions. She will never loathe him, she will only her mind because for the moment, she doesn't mind. His charm quietly leads her into a daze and adore him. He will never love her, he will never be all for her. She worries as he continues to unveil for moments at a time she feels invincible. Occasionally, reality comes into clear view the suit of armor she's built upon herself. He aland a long train of thoughts form in her mind. ways finds his way inside, deep inside of her. She Thoughts like whether or not she should continue feels up and down and upside down when he's in this endless parade of ups and downs. But then around. She tries to get him to focus and notice. She she realizes that it is inevitable. She watches him sitting next to her in the dark hushed room, antici- realizes what she has lost and regained. He realpating a move or motion, but he sits real still and izes there's so much more to life than to relive this quiet. She doesn't like it, but tries to hide it. The again. So maybe that's the cause of this sudden only noises heard are of the stereo softly playing change in his mind and heart and eyes. But it's still song after song, and the fan blowing in the window impossible to just shut off or tune out of or drop out of eachother's lives. which is sheltering them from the summer heat. So they lay entwined, careless for the moThen finally with a move of his pierced lips, they begin to kiss. More movements add up and ment, and they continue their predictable night. he has her laying palm flat instead of in a fist. She They're out of sight from anyone but is never more completely delighted than when she eachother...but maybe that's all they need to see. feels like she is fully his. His eyes being to lighten Blind to Love, ‘Cause Love is Blind By Holly O’Blenis
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The Doctor’s Fox, Unboxed By Patrick S. Sunday, July 26, 2009 The Lowell Folk Festival is an inspiring show of logistics, coordinated by a virtuoso committee across six stages. The most important thing I can tell you about Lowell Folk Festival stages is that they're rectangular. Every band fits into a box. For example, in most years there's a box for zydeco music. If you've never heard zydeco music, you should hear some. If you've heard zydeco music, you've heard zydeco music. Without exception, the zydeco band chosen for the Lowell Folk Festival is precisely an excellent zydeco band. There's a box for polka music. The polka band, whichever polka band it is, also does waltzes. They do polkas and waltzes. The bookers for the Lowell Folk Festival do a consistent excellent job. Every band is of the highest quality and an examplar of its genre, wherein lies the seeds of its own irrelevance. There is a shadow festival, held in the gaps between the boxes. It's easy to find, it doesn't hide itself. There's a coffeehouse with a speaker pointing out the door, a stand-up chalkboard with a list of bands quote-"during" the Lowell Folk Festival, a flier giving a residential address within walking distance. The stages of the shadow festival are every shape that isn't a rectangle. Some of them are parallelograms, which are still boxes, just with a slant, but there are also triangles, crescents, basements, attics of bars, and the bands of the shadow festival might sit on boxes, or play boxes, or wear boxes. The Lowell Folk Festival has excellent bluegrass music, in the bluegrass box, and it sometimes has calypso music, excellent, in a calypso box, but it never has bluegrass calypso because that isn't a box yet. At the shadow festival, I heard bluegrass calypso, and it was excellent. It wasn't from a bluegrass calypso band, it was from a band that played music. They went on twenty minutes late.
RS
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Curried Ginger Butternut-Carrot Soup By Katherine Quinn 1/4 cup olive oil 2 small yellow onions, diced 2 cloves garlic, minced 2 inches ginger, minced 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 teaspoon cumin 1/2 teaspoon allspice 1 teaspoon curry powder 1 medium-large butternut squash, peeled & cut into 1 inch cubes 2 large carrots, sliced 6-8 cups vegetable broth 1 15 ounce can of coconut milk Heat olive oil in a soup pot on medium heat. Saute onions for 5-7 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add minced ginger, garlic and spices, cook for 2-3 minutes. Add butternut squash and carrots. Cover with vegetable broth about 1 inch above squash (about 6-8 cups). Cover and bring to a boil. Once it comes to a boil, reduce to a simmer & prop the lid so some steam can escape. Simmer for about 20 minutes, until the squash is tender. Turn off the heat. Puree the soup in batches with coconut milk until no chunks remain. Serve hot with fresh, crusty bread.
Mushrooms Buried Alive By Sarah Lamothe This is my (somewhat lazy) version of stuffed mushrooms. Instead of individually stuffing each precious shroom, I just bury them. I have several notes here: the first is that I would like you to notice how we are cooking the mushrooms completely before “stuffing” them. That is because after making stuffed mushrooms at least 45 times and having them come out cooked only twice (they were burned both times) this is the way I finally decided was best. The time in the oven is just to get a crust on the top but everything is cooked beforehand. Be aware of the bread you choose, or cracker for that matter. I am leaving it up to you. I 27
usually use whatever I have lying around, this is, after all, a dish that has its beginnings at the poor man’s table; the mushrooms and garlic grew wild in many regions of Europe, and broth and bread were daily staples. I use whatever bread or cracker I have lying around sometimes just bread, or crushed “butter” crackers. I have used bread crumbs from a can, I have used old croutons. I leave it to you, but try to choose something that isn’t salty and has very little sweetness. 20 oz cremini or “baby bella” mushrooms 1 cup vegetable stock 2 tbs Bragg’s or other soy sauce (quality counts!) Dash of salt 1/2 cup minced roasted red peppers 1/2 cup chopped unsalted cashews 1 cup of diced bread, or crushed crackers or croutons 4 cloves of garlic minced 1/4 cup olive oil Preheat your oven to 450 Pluck the mushroom stems from the mushrooms and rinse the caps. Place them in a large sauté pan with the hollow part toward the bottom. Lightly salt the caps. Pour in the cup of veggie stock and the Bragg’s. Bring to a simmer on medium heat and cover until tender and easily pierced (about ten minutes). Meanwhile dice the roasted red peppers (about 2 peppers from the jar) and set aside in a dish. Crush the cashews in a mortar and pestle, just a handful at a time, or carefully chop them. Set aside in a small dish. Coarsely mince the garlic. By now the mushrooms should be ready. Eat a small one to see, it should be cooked all the way through. Using tongs or a fork remove the mushrooms to an 8x8 glass baking dish, hollow side up. Make an even layer. Pour the remaining liquid in the pan into the dish with the roasted red peppers. Return the pan to medium heat and toss the garlic in with the olive oil. Wait 15 second then add the cashews. Sauté this for 2 minutes, constantly stirring and scraping any yummy char off of the bottom. Be careful not to burn your garlic!
Add the peppers and mushroom liquid mixture. Stir to incorporate, and then turn off heat. Add the bread or crackers (or combination) and stir just to incorporate. You may need to add more bread or liquid. The mixture should be soft and wet. Not dripping and not dry. Settle the mixture over the mushrooms creating a flat layer. Bake at 450 for 10 minutes or until the top is golden.
Spinach Pie By Amanda Macchia 1 package chopped spinach, thawed 3 eggs, 3/4 cup cottage cheese, 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan or Romano cheese, 1/4 cup seasoned breadcrumbs, Pepper, onion powder, and garlic powder to taste.
1 8-oz can of tomato sauce (or 1 small can of tomato paste if using fresh tomatoes), 7 shakes each, salt & pepper, 1 healthy pinch of parsley (a large palmful), 1 tablespoon of basil (or more if you prefer), 1 pinch of oregano (about 1/4+ teaspoon), 8-oz of water.
Put tomatoes and vinegar in a large pot, cover and simmer on low. In a frying pan, brown the onions and garlic in the oil until the onions are soft, but the garlic isn't brown. Put the tomato sauce (or paste) into the pan, along with the remaining seasonings. Stir for a minute or so, until the oil is absorbed. Add the water and stir again, for a minute or so. You're making a kind of red tomato "roue". Pour into large pot and stir. Replace cover and simmer for 1.5-3 hours.
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Spray a glass pie plate with cooking oil. In a large bowl, squeeze the spinach of its excess water. Mix all of the remaining ingredients in a food processor until smoooth. Pour the mixture into a bowl and combine with the spinach. Mix well. Pour into the pie plate and bake for 35-40 minutes.
My Family's Spaghetti Sauce By Amanda Macchia 3 large (28-32 oz) cans of plum tomatoes, crushed by hand or in a blender, or the equivalent of fresh tomatoes (stewed and without skin), 1 capful of red wine vinegar, 1 onion, chopped, 2 cloves of garlic, minced, 2-3 tablespoons of oil, 28