Monologue Contest Results!

ANNOUNCING THE WINNERS!

Monologging.org is pleased to announce the winners of its second annualSummer Monologue Contest.” The contest drew entries from all over the world, and has helped connect a greater network of writers. Participants compiled short, 250 word responses to daily prompts, and their entry fees were added to an ever growing jackpot. The contest was judged by Jeffrey F. Barken and Menachem Kaiser. Submissions were rated based on their use of language to stylize stream of conscious remarks. Monologging.org looks forward to repeating the contest next summer.

The 1st place winner of this round of monologging and a $50 prize is Kelsey McMurtrey. Kelsey’s submission, entitled “Customer Service” offers a humorous tour of the office on a day when little is at stake and passion for the job is fading. To read Kelsey’s monologue please scroll below. Additional monologues by contest runners-up, Luke Hughes and Diana Mumford can be read HERE: 

Photo Courtesy of: http://www.inc.com

Photo Courtesy of: http://www.inc.com

Customer Service

-Monologue by Kelsey McMurtrey-

 

Stacatto thumbprint on the “hold” button.

I move through the cubicles,

twisting, walking, step step step.

“She, uh, wants to know why she hasn’t received her order.”

He turns, nods, continues typing.

“She can’t get a hold of someone to fix it.”

Hits a, then n-d, t-h, and e.

Rubs his eyes with two fingers, asks me

“What was the question?”

I repeat.

He mumbles,

not an answer.

Something about getting coffee.

He smells like an old meatball sub.

“Take it to your team leader,” he tells me.

I turn, twisting through cubicles, walking,

step

step

step.

I halt at a desk decorated in sticky notes

and photos of a grandson.

“So, this woman’s order,” I say.

She sits, chewing jelly beans, painting her thumbnail mauve.

“Uh huh. That’s not my department.” she says, “You gotta’ go see Lionel. In autoships.”

I turn.

I twist through the cubicles, sit at my desk.

I pick up my phone receiver and say,

“I sympathize.”

***

 

Arguendo

Photo Courtesy of Joan Marcus: http://www.elevator.org

Photo Courtesy of Joan Marcus: http://www.elevator.org

 

Arguendo Argues

Its Case

-A Theatre Review By Tatiana Serafin

Arguendo, currently playing at the Public Theater in New York through October 27th is a satirical verbatim portrayal of a portion of the Supreme Court’s hearing of the Barnes v. Glen Theater case. What begins as a seemingly serious court case soon devolves into an outrageous reality competition, spoofing the bizarre trial in which an Indiana statute requiring exotic dancers to wear “pasties” and a “G-string” was challenged by go-go dancers from the Glen Theatre and Kitty Kat Lounge.

Created and performed by the outstanding experimental theater troupe, Elevator Repair Service, the show is directed by John Collins and features Maggie Hoffman, Mike Iveson, Vin Knight, Susie Sokol, and Ben Williams.

The minimalist set – the curtain opens revealing three black leather high-backed chairs that face the audience an elevated platform with two ramps on either side – morphs into an interactive space when images from the Supreme Court steps and façade as well as legal briefs are projected on the back wall.

Legalese is parched language and no amount of watering can nourish it. But the Elevator Repair Service actors have a knack for nurturing nuances, pairing each word with an exaggerated antic. When it works well in Arguendo (especially in one of the final scenes, more later), the juxtaposition reflects the ridiculousness of the arguments about G-strings and free speech that are being heard.

Arguendo is not as searing a success as the troupe’s Gatz, a seven hour verbatim reading of the Great Gatsby, that transports audiences into the world of glitz while a worker bee reads the novel aloud in a mundane office. In that much longer work, you never get tired of seeing the words spring from the page and scenes acted out by the wonderful cast. In Arguendo, however, sometimes the legal tit for tat gets heavy.

Photo Courtesy of Joan Marcus: http://www.elevator.org

Photo Courtesy of Joan Marcus: http://www.elevator.org

The play begins with a nude dancer, (she is not nude – that doesn’t come until later in the show –  but dressed in bright late eighties shoulder pads and big hair)  surrounded by a bevy of reporters, justifying her right to freedom of dance expression. Then come the judges whose facial ticks, and heavy body language mimic the real justices perfectly. Kudos in particular to Susie Sokol (troupe member and second grade school teacher at St. Ann’s in Brooklyn) who resembles Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg so closely you almost can’t tell it isn’t the sprightly nymph herself; but then with the hunch of a shoulder Sokol morphs into Justice Clarence Thomas (three actors alternate playing the nine justices).

The judges aren’t here to rule on nude bars – they make that clear. But nude bars don’t appeal to everyone, and it’s the level of nudity and freedom of expression that’s up for grabs in the case. After all, how much do pasties and a G-string really cover up? Why shouldn’t the dancers be allowed to wear whatever they want?

The orators are walking as fine a line as that G-string. Luckily, they are helped along by the other person in the room – the swirl of animated text projections by visual artist, Ben Rubin. The animated text even takes a bow at the end of the play.

The effect of the projections is dizzying. What is really being argued here? They ask as letters zigzag across the screen and papers are thrown around. A close inspection after the play reveals the papers to be sheets of music. Bravo to the actors who memorized all this mundane Supreme Court text!

Photo Courtesy of Joan Marcus: http://www.elevator.org

Photo Courtesy of Joan Marcus: http://www.elevator.org

Isn’t freedom of expression due in every performance?  Towards the end, in a wild fit of passion, First Amendment lawyer arguing on behalf of the dancers, Bruce Ennis (1940-2000), to whom the performance is dedicated, sheds his clothing piecemeal, gyrates in his G-string and finally takes it all off. He’s a perfect 10 and the justices seem to orgasm in their chairs. (In a disclaimer in the playbill, Elevator Repair Service writes, “We are certain that the real Bruce Ennis would never present his case in the same dramatic fashion that our “Mr. Ennis” does; nevertheless we are ever grateful for his work (and the work of many others) defending the rights of artists to take creative license and express ourselves through performance.)

It’s hard to come to your senses after such a wild day at court, but audiences walk away with a better understanding of the real verdict in the Barnes Vrs. Glenn Theatre case. In a fractious vote of 5 for upholding the ban on G-strings and 4 against, the court upheld the public indecency trumped freedom of expression – “The proscription on public nudity is unrelated to the erotic message the dancers seek to convey.”

 ***

 

 

Mechanical Bull

Mechanical Bull-Kings of Leon

Album reviewed by Kendra Anne Bartell

 

Undoubtedly, the Kings of Leon have one of the greatest backstories of most bands out there right now: they’re all brothers (well, three brothers and one cousin) that were raised by a preacher and almost became preachers themselves. That is, until the rock gods spoke to them and they picked up musical instruments. Mechanical Bull is their newest release (their sixth), out this September after a three-year hiatus.

And what a wonder that break did for the band. After the disappointing release that was Come Around Sundown (and that cover, really!?), KOL seems to be working with something that pulls from their down-home, raw and weird Southern rocker roots. “Supersoaker,” the first single, has definite resonance with tunes like “Red Morning Light” off of their first album. There’s an energy, a life force in these songs that seemed to be lacking in Come Around Sundown. The guitars are fierce, and lead singer Caleb Followill’s voice seems to have regained some of that roughness and raw ferocity that made the first albums by KOL so addictive.

That being said, there are some songs on the album that feel, for lack of a better word, mechanical in their appeals to a certain kind of listener. “Don’t Matter,” for example, seems to be practicing what it preaches, with lines like “It don’t matter to me/It’s always the same/I’m always the same” on top of a guitar riff and beat that feel heard before.

As with other albums, some of the gems come out of the middle of the album. “Comeback Story” is a real hit on this one–a sweet melody that puts Caleb’s voice more front-and-center than on other tracks, again, trying for what worked so well for them in earlier releases. What sets this track apart from others on the album is the way the vocal melody, whistling chorus, and the lightened-up-reverb guitar work together. It’s also got a killer joke of a line: “I walk a mile in your shoes/Now I’m a mile away/And I’ve got your shoes.”

“Family Tree” is another surprise hit for me, in terms of its use of a bass heavy funk rhythm rather than fast paced guitar riffs at the center of the song.

Ultimately, Mechanical Bull seems to be aiming to unite the two factions of KOL fans: the die-hard purists that swear by the bands’ first three albums, and those that fell in love after the runaway success of songs like “Sex on Fire.” The record is clearly more produced and concerned with technique (as evidenced by Caleb’s clean vocals), but it’s also a really melodic, easy listen. There may not be as big a radio hit or “perfect” back-to-basics early Kings song on this album, but it doesn’t stop it from being a fun listen to tap your feet along to.

 

Post Photo Courtesy of http://www.crismanphoto.com

Surge

Photo Courtesy of: http://www.indiebound.org/

Photo Courtesy of: http://www.indiebound.org/

 

 

Surge: Drafts 96-114

Book Reviewed by Dorothy Chan

Surge: Drafts 96-114 by Rachel Blau DuPlessis is one of the best contemporary answers to poetics and critical theory. Be forewarned: dense material ahead—definitely not a lazy Sunday read. Surge is one of those books that’s perfect for poets studying process writing. Process writing is where you add layers to a single poem and inevitably end up with multiple poems, or even a full collection. This process is linked to the study of forms, exploring the way in which different structures can work off each other, accentuating and enriching a larger collection. I’ll also dare to say that Surge is for the more ambitious poets who think free verse is lazy and prefer to experiment with an elegy or sonnet crown.

“Each poem of the whole project can be read individually as a separate work,” DuPlessis explained the raw essence of her work during a recent interview. “Poems can also be read in any order. But they are joined together by all being ‘drafts.’”

Surge: Drafts is really a continuation of DuPlessis’ earlier works, including Drafts 1-38, Toll (Wesleyan 2001), DRAFTS, Drafts 39-57, Pledge with Drafts, Unnumbered: Précis (Salt Publishing, 2004), Torques: Drafts 58-76 (Salt Publishing, 2007), Pitch: Drafts 77-95 (Salt Publishing, 2010). The Collage Poems of Drafts appeared early in 2011, and finally, Surge: Drafts 96-114 was published by Salt in 2013.

Surge is of course, an ambitious project, and length in poetry is a daring feat. However, DuPlessis makes the distinction that Surge: Drafts 96-114 is not a long poem in itself, but drafts 96-114 come together as a collection. When 96-114 is linked to the 1-95 works that precede it, the result is a longer, and richly textured poem. This is where process writing comes into play. As writers, we are always looking for the relationship among all our previous works. What common themes are explored? Is there a hidden agenda that links all these works together? Strictly speaking, where poetry is concerned, how does form come into play?

DuPlessis lists genres, such as odes, elegies, proverbs, ballads, and haiku as having influenced her work. These forms help create a beautiful musicality in her work; for instance, Draft 98 is titled “Canzone,” also known as an Italian song or ballad. In “Canzone” and throughout her book, DuPlessis achieves a whimsical musicality with the juxtaposition of her words: “pass into a mirroring account of alphabets” and “…though at first it had seemed fenced off—Vietato l’ingresso.”

DuPlessis also grapples with the larger juxtaposition of musicality and analytical intensity. In her preface, she explains the theory behind her decisions in Surge: Drafts. Traces of these concepts can be found embedded within the poems themselves. For example, the sixth stanza of “Draft 100: Gap” reads, “______. The poem, unwritten/is concealed by the poem.” First off, the gap in the line adds another dimension to this draft. The intensity of “gap” is emphasized by this preceding physical gap. The idea of poems concealing other poems can be traced back to the preface when DuPlessis states that poems in collections work as a collage, and no poem ever feels “whole.” “Draft 99: Intransitive” also reflects this: “The complete is never complete.”

Because of this musicality and analytical intensity, reading the poems out of order becomes a fun task. It’s interesting to evaluate the unity of a collection based on whether the overall “story” of the poems still holds true out of order. Besides order and form, Surge raises the even more important issue of the long poem’s role in literature—think Chaucer, Milton, Eliot, Pound, etc. All these poets created works that are immortalized to this day, so there begs the question: where is the long poem of today’s world? In addition, how does the long poem of modern society distinguish itself from its predecessors? What forms(s) would that poem take? Does the poem fill one book or multiple books? Poets, are used to writing works of breadth yet depth, but it is very rare that they are satisfied with a longer poem. The task in itself is daunting.

Thus, DuPlessis’ Surge: Drafts 96-114 should be acknowledged as an important study. It’s a work that needs to be read several times to fully absorb everything. A meticulous reading of the preface will provide useful hints and strategies for absorbing this collection’s intricate content. Don’t be afraid. Daring readers will be rewarded, and perhaps even inspired to take on a much more ambitious work. And it’s about time that critical theory meshed with the contemporary long poem.

 

In A World

 

“In a World”

Film Reviewed by Lisa Umhoefer

You are always hardest on the children that have potential, expecting the best from them. In a World, starring Lake Bell and Fred Melamed had potential; it had all the right elements and some fantastically funny writing, but simply doesn’t live up to expectations.

Although the movie offers some amusing moments in the style of “Best in Show,” it suffers from the greed that often marks writer-director debut films. Bell’s film flits from parody to romantic comedy to family drama. We are never quite sure if we are supposed to be laughing at the world we are in, or more dramatically intertwined with the characters.

The story revolves around Carol (Bell), a struggling thirty year old voice coach still living with, and under the shadow of her father, Sam (Melamed), a successful voice-over artist. Sam is so successful, in fact, that he is poised to win a Lifetime Achievement award for voice-over. Carol would like to enter this profession, but as her father tells her point blank, the world is not interested in female voice-overs. This revelation comes in one of the most entertaining scenes of the movie. Watching Fred Melamed act, with his wonderfully smooth voice was absolutely mesmerizing. The fact that he wasn’t entirely nice only adds to the pleasure. Sam announces that his young girlfriend is moving in and summarily evicts Carol. She is on her own to face her problems.

Luckily for Carol, her problems are quickly resolved. She moves in with her sister, and finds professional success simply by asking a producer to fill in for a sick voice-over star. This is where “In a World” takes a turn for the worse. Bell glosses over the challenges that professionals face in the voice-over world, never addressing the complicated career barriers that women professionals working in voice-over face. Even Carol’s romantic entanglements are straightforward: the final relationship involves the right guy finally working up the courage to admit his feelings. Carol responds by saying she likes him back. Easy.  Wouldn’t it be nice if life were always that simple?

Ultimately, the film’s central conflict is unfulfilled. The biggest challenge Carol faces is dealing with the wrath of those she is poised to replace, yet it’s left unclear whether she would self-sabotage her career in order to avoid alienating her father with her success. Carol briefly struggles with the thought of pulling back from claiming the life she wants. There is tension when she avoids confronting her father, but then her supporters quickly come to the rescue. Had Carol been granted space to waver independently between successes and failures, her character would appear more empathetic, and audiences would enjoy watching her quirky personality evolve.

Carol’s success is further downplayed when the studio executive (Geena Davis) tells her that she was not the best person for the job, she was chosen merely because she is a woman. The conflict is contrived. If Carol satisfies the executive’s need of a woman voice-over artist, isn’t she the best person for the job? This is one of the most interesting points of the film. What constitutes “the best”?  Is it some absolute scientific measure of frequency and pitch, or is a conglomeration of factors including the desired effects on the psyche of the audience?

In a World attempts to address the battle of the sexes, but its treatment of this topic is superficial. Jokes about shoe size and warrior princesses leave audiences wanting more substance. Likewise, the men are portrayed as young boys in adult clothes and most of the women characters matter only in relation to the men in their lives. A more intriguing question might be: why does it matter if the voice-over artist is a man or a woman?

This is a coming of age film where the protagonist ends up changing location, not her mindset. Hardship and failure elude Carol, rendering her achievements less significant. Even her father’s self-improvement is not much of his own doing, but the result of an ultimatum from his girlfriend. Finally, the film’s direction is confusing. Audiences will be entertained by spots of humor, but frustrated by a wandering plot and underdeveloped themes.

Skins

Chicago artist, Caroline Evan’s artwork investigates the surfaces of skin, scarring and corporeal ruins. Her artistic process involves creating skins made from synthetic material,  whereby she produces works that embody imperfection, deterioration, and reconstruction. By suturing, stuffing, and binding visceral materials, Caroline mimics the process and physicality of surgical techniques, challenging the viewer to confront their own perceptions of beauty in relation to their body. Through layers of acrylic gel medium, bundles of assorted fibers, translucent skins of latex and twisted cords of paper, the physical landscape of the human anatomy as well as the psychological nature of our relationship to our own form is explored. 

In the following collaborative gallery, Author, Christina Lengyel, fuses scarring and dreamy prose excerpts from her newly published story collection, “What Might Have Been Lost,” with Caroline’s stunning and immensely textured artwork. 

From Stockholm Syndrome:

But that was a lie. If the first man and woman came to be conscious—truly human—they must have eaten mushrooms they found in the ground, not apples in a tree. When they ate, they first appreciated the colors they saw and the warmth they each emitted. And when they ate, they must have felt the shape of their throats and tongues and realized they could speak, and so they made words. And they knew death. And then they used their throats and tongues and other parts for other things. He felt her hips and realized only those hips could birth heads big enough for words and stay standing on two feet, and so he made a new mind in them to carry the words after their deaths. And so lying in the grass with so many thoughts they never had before, they named the animals and all the things they wanted to talk about. There was only one thing they could not speak, one incredible purpose, one pressing feeling, and so they did not name it. And eventually they slept, and when they woke, they felt the way they had before they ate, but they did not think the same, for they had words forever and ever and the knowledge of that something, which would never be satisfactorily described and rarely wielded well but would persist deep inside their children through all the darkness to come, and as all persistent feelings do, it would irritate and infect and become prone to worms of trauma.

In the moment that she tasted, she was opening a box, a jar, herself and freeing everything but hope, which would persist in all her children.

In the moment he tasted, he was handed fire, and he learned to keep it burning always.

In the moment she opened, she wept an ocean that would never cease trying to cling to the moon.

In the moment he held fire, he learned to shelter it from water.

In the moment the moon came closest, the earth shook, and the ocean rose, and most of her children were swallowed, returned.

In the moment the water came, they were sheltered together and warmed by fire, and so they did persist.

 
From The Quiet:

I was the last person on Earth for a little while. A few days I think—I wasn’t keeping time by then. Someone else had been out there, and I knew the moment he or she died. There was this heavy loneliness for hours and hours before that day, but when it was really over, I felt it suddenly and deeply. It was like that moment when your eyes have to adjust from light to dark and you’re so irrationally scared of falling into some precipice that never existed in your hallway before. You move an inch at a time because you can only focus on what’s directly in front of you. Being the last one alive is like that, but it stays like that until you’ve finished. All of the things that the tendrils of my being touched—all the potential ideas I could have shared or learned—were gone. Pictures waiting to be painted were still and without life. Landscapes would only ever be land. Clay would never be pots. Pots would never be filled with water or food or flowers again except what the weather might throw at their gaping mouths…

Early in the processional of grievances that followed, I thought of how I would never have another hug. I mourned that fact. Then sharing kisses. Then the feeling of a man inside me. Then tears for anyone but myself. Then the waltz. Then acting so furious that someone gets scared I might hit them even though I’d never do that. Then clutching someone’s thumb with my whole hand the way a baby would. Then anger over inefficiency in lines at convenience stores. Coffee because I refused to learn how to make it. New diamonds because I would not dig them up. Old arrowheads because I would not dig them up. New graves because I would not dig them up. Rock paper scissors. Peekaboo.
From Start at Zero:
I learned how to make love to myself when I was thirteen. I learned how to make love to a man when I was sixteen. I learned how to make love to a woman when I was eighteen. The frequency with which I’ve done those things is in that order, descending…

Death looks like a house that’s crumbling. It starts with the tiles coming off the roof and making a mess of the lawn, and before you know it, it’s just a pile, and you can’t even find your keepsakes in the dust. It feels like it has been happening forever, like the least surprising thing, like the way you know your legs are going to be asleep when you stand up from kneeling too long. It smells like flowers, like too many flowers, like a florist or a funeral home or your trashcan after you’ve thrown away roses that recently wilted. Death tastes like cleaning products or nail polish remover, and the taste is in your throat, not even your mouth. You breathe it. Death sounds like a clock when it isn’t ticking, a drum that isn’t being played.

To View more of Caroline’s artwork, please visit: http://carolinebevans.carbonmade.com/

Volunteer Adventures

The Volunteer Traveler's Handbook, Shannon O'Donnell

The Volunteer Traveler’s Handbook, Shannon O’Donnell

 

 

 

Volunteer Adventures

A book review by Jessica Jonas

 

The Volunteer Traveler’s Handbook, by Shannon O’Donnell, provides an overview of typical “voluntouring” opportunities, questions to consider in selecting an ethical, effective program, and advice for preparing for travel abroad issues such as culture shock and safety. O’Donnell provides clear explanation of the difference between volunteering with a “middleman” placement organization and independently arranging an experience, and she offers thoughtful consideration of the pros and cons of each.

At the heart of the book is O’Donnell’s own passion for volunteering and her desire to steer newcomers toward programs offering what she terms the “two D’s”: encouraging dignity and avoiding dependency in the communities served. As she explains, the most dangerous pitfall of volunteering is accidentally doing more harm than good. Companies that encourage volunteers to work closely with orphans, for example, often lead to the children bonding with a rotating series of volunteers who leave after a few weeks. Instead, she urges interested volunteers to research ways to empower communities to become independent, such as teaching women a craft they can make and sell to help support themselves. The book is punctuated with brief stories from O’Donnell and other volunteers highlighting cherished memories or their reasons for volunteering while traveling.

Readers will also find a thorough grounding of basic questions to ask when researching programs: How is the organization’s money spent? How much will they provide (training, accommodation) versus expect the volunteer to find independently? Do they invest in long-term projects and value steady, incremental progress? Do they actually finish what they start (a story of an unfinished, unusable playground was particularly saddening)? When it comes to slightly more advanced questions, though, The Volunteer Traveler’s Handbook falls a little short. I left the book still unsure what a reasonable distribution of money is, or where to find impartial organizations that would audit or evaluate a volunteer experience I was considering.

Shannon O'Donnell

Shannon O’Donnell

The book lends itself well to new volunteers and those dreaming of a trip, providing introductory information and frequent, inspiring vignettes from volunteers in various countries. This handbook, however, is not for the half-hearted! The Volunteer Traveler’s Handbook touches on ideas for volunteers with a week or less to spend, but the author clearly favors a longer commitment. The emphasis in most of the book is on programs that last multiple weeks, months, or occasionally even longer. This stems in part back to the idea of the “two D’s.” Short-term volunteering programs are by nature less stable in terms of their rotating workforce, which in some cases can mean the experience is more for the volunteer’s benefit than the community’s. Those looking for a brief experience may find a jumping-off point in this book, but people interested in investing more seriously in a cause they are passionate about are more likely to find a kindred spirit in O’Donnell.

Volunteering in a way that helps make real change happen requires more than one person and certainly more than one book’s worth of research. People interested in volunteering while traveling should be prepared to do a lot of preliminary legwork to find an organization that aligns with their values. The Volunteer Traveler’s Handbook is not the endpoint in deciding where to volunteer, but it is a useful tool to equip people with initial questions and inspire them to seek out an experience that can be fulfilling for them and whatever community they touch.

Like Clockwork

Queens of the Stone Age: Like Clockwork

-Album Review by Yuval Goldring

 

Queens of the Stone Age has returned to the scene with their sixth album, entitled Like Clockwork. This is their first album on the label, Matador, and the first release since Era Vulgaris debuted in 2007.

I’ll be honest, although I’ve enjoyed Josh Homme’s (the man behind QTSA) work as a producer working with other bands; I’ve found his work with QTSA less inspired. “Like Clockwork,” however, is another story. Homme, who is an advocate of the “supergroup” concept, has recruited a surprising and distinguished list of guests to produce the album. In addition to regular QTSA collaborators, Dave Grohl, Mark Langen and Nick Oliver, Like Clockwork incorporates the collective musical genius of Elton John, Alex Turner from the Arctic Monkeys, Trent Reznor from Nine Inch Nails, Jake Shears from the Scissor Sisters and James Lavelle from UNKLE.

Ten tracks of inspired rock, and wonderful ballads ensue, evidencing Homme’s remarkable versatility.

The opening track “Keep Your Eyes Peeled” starts with the sound of broken glass and his bass note lays the heartbeat for the rest of the album. Listeners will delight in “Savour The Vampyre of Time and Memory,” track three. Never before have such delicate sounds resonated from QTSA.

“Kalopsia,” track six, is the most personal song on the album. This is a song by a mature band. What begins as a ballad, gradually adopts the intricate layers of dark rock for which QTSA is famous. “Oh why you so sad / What have they done”? Homme sings, perhaps to his child, maybe to his inner child, and then he answers; “Forget those mindless baboons, They’re off playing god.”

“If I Had a Tail,” leads to a catchy melody. “It’s how you look Not how you feel, The city of glass With no heart,” Homme sings, reminding us the shallowness of the world. The Six-minute ballad, “I Appear Missing” makes a thrilling use of Homme’s clear voice and “Fairweather Friends” echoes the band’s alternative roots, creating yet another rock classic.

This album is a brave new addition to the QTSA sound, and is one of the most important rock albums of the year.

List of songs:
1. Keep Your Eyes Peeled
2. I Sat By the Ocean
3. The Vampyre of Time and Memory
4. If I Had a Tail
5. My God Is the Sun
6. Kalopsia (Feat. Alex Turner)
7. Fairweather Friends (Feat. Elton John)
8. Smooth Sailing
9. I Appear Missing
10. Like Clockwork…

“Hall of Fame”

 

Big Sean: “Hall Of Fame”

-Album Reviewed by Jacob Kresovich

Big Sean’s sophomore album, Hall of Fame, continues the theme of “making it big” in the music industry that he began in his first LP, Finally Famous. Throughout both records Big Sean confronts his newfound fame, rhyming about the hard work that is required to accomplish one’s goals.

“Fire”, the second song on Hall of Fame, portrays the artist’s insatiable hunger for success in the music industry. “Tell ‘em that I need more,” he repeats.  Big Sean’s flowing verse compliments the beat, leaving listeners feeling energized and connected to Sean’s quest to make it to the top.

In “10 2 10,” the ensuing track, Big Sean gets specific about  his work ethic: “I woke up working like a Mexican / That mean I work from 10 to 10 / Then 10 to 10, then 10 again.”

“First chain,” brings the themes of hard work advanced in the first half of the album to a head.  Rapping alongside well-established rappers, Nas and Kid Cudi, Big Sean’s verse describes Detroit, the city in which he was raised. “Bullets turn bro’s into souls,” he sings, echoing the violence that marked his youth, and which continues to haunt the bankrupt metropolis.

From there, Big Sean returns to his theme of finding fame despite rough circumstances. The line “Dreams stopped being dreams when I turned ‘em into goals” again reflects the transformation of his work ethic and his changed self-image. Big Sean then shouts out to other well-established rappers, who already have their first chain, a symbol of success in the hip-hop world.

The album finishes with the song “All figured out” which starts with Big Sean saying, “Finally famous in this,” another clear reference to his first LP which begins with the same line.  The outro of the track has Big Sean reflecting back on his journey from obscurity to success, and ultimately his admittance to the Hall of Fame. Big Sean will be immortalized in hip-hop lore. The emotion and energy behind every song, either in the beat or Sean’s lyrics, lets the listener know Sean is determined to continue making great music and make it to the top.  If you are looking for hip-hop that will instill an internal drive, and to look and sound good while doing it, this is the album for you.

Draw A Circle

"Draw A Circle" Cover Art by Lowell Silverstein

“Draw A Circle” Cover Art by Lowell Silverstein

Draw a Circle

Book Reviewed by Roger Market

 

Draw a Circle by Lowell Silverstein is one of those “holy grail” books of short fiction: it grabs you from the first story. Even if you’re uncomfortable with the subject matter, there is no denying the writer’s ability to move the reader toward some emotional destination. His talent is honed; his story order is well chosen.

And I’d expect nothing less from Lowell, one of this year’s 27 graduates of the MFA in Creative Writing and Publishing Arts program at the University of Baltimore. On the surface, Lowell’s a quiet guy. But as his short story collection shows, there is something beneath the quiet that’s bursting to get out. Something haunting and refreshing, funny and poignant.

Should I laugh at a baby who’s been left alone in a bathtub and who’s afraid of the sucking drain? Do I chuckle at the supremely imaginative mind of a man who technically—okay, let’s not downplay it, a man who really does have a life-threatening disease? There’s a gray line in many of these stories, and that’s the secret to their success.

In “Manifest,” a man weasels his way into living with a loner in a mansion that’s far too big for one person—and yet somehow not big enough, as it turns out. “Closed” follows a man’s thoughts about women and the end of the world. And do I need to describe “Walter Mitty Syndrome”?

“Out of It,” a story about working—or, more accurately, pretending to work—in an office environment, sets a deadpan tone that will remind readers of the comic film, Office Space.

Up next: “A Journal of Travels through Time, “Super Band-Aid,” and “The Fate of the Ex!” All of which evoke a wandering, fun, superhero-style theme. But don’t let that description fool you; these aren’t your typical, Saturday morning, sanitized superheroes. There’s some refreshing depth to be found here.

Finally, in “Bathwater,” a man finds a baby girl in his bathtub and asks where she came from. “I’ve been here, the baby said. I’m your baby.” And if a baby popping up in a bathtub out of nowhere, claiming to have been there the whole time, isn’t absurd or funny enough for you, you should note that the baby is afraid that it’s going to be sucked down the drain with the bathwater. This very logical baby lovingly steals the closing scene of the book.

As for the book’s cover, designed by the author himself, it’s almost childlike in its simplicity, but this is intentional, and it’s part of the charm. Random circles,  overlapping like a Spirograph, reference the book’s title story, and reveal the predictable yet wild nature of thought and imagination. Occasionally humans manage to follow a thread from its beginning all the way to its end, like a perfect circle, but more often than not, we veer off on a tangent before we even reach the end. Then there’s another tangent, and another, and so on. More often than not, we’re  circling around our initial idea, and who knows if we’ll ever return to our starting point? The mind is powerful, creative, and unpredictable, and so is this book.

Draw a Circle capitalizes on the human need to imagine something from nothing, even if it doesn’t always look the way we thought it would.  I can’t think of a more perfect title for this short story collection. Buy it; read it. And don’t forget the tissues for the first story—or maybe just something to squeeze or punch, if that’s your thing. Once you’ve read “Draw A Cirlcle” you’re in the clear. It’s smooth sailing from “Manifest” to “Bathwater.”