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ARS POETICA: Leopold & Loeb IX

Tuesday, April 26th, 2016

Leopold & Loeb Mugshots

 

BY
BLAZE ARCHER

AUTHOR’S NOTE: On May 21, 1924, Nathan Leopold, Jr., and Richard Loeb, two child prodigies poised to inherent their parents’ millions with the full promise of life ahead of them, killed a random fourteen year old boy. His name was Bobby Franks. To cover up the crime, they concocted a complicated ransom plot which failed. Loeb claimed he did this for the thrill of the kill: Leopold rationalized it as a way to become a Nietzschian superman. It was clear from psychiatric examination that Loeb held no regard for human life, either for others or his own, and would today be labeled a psychopath. Psychiatrists, however, noted Leopold had no criminal tendencies, and in fact had not committed any criminal acts until he had become romantically infatuated with Loeb. It was this infatuation which led him to crime: in exchange for sex, he vowed to do anything Loeb told him to do, be it criminal or otherwise. In writing this, I came to Leopold through my own life. We have comparable traumas, comparable sufferings, comparable inner torments. I consider his fate a possible fate of my own. According to Clarence Darrow, Leopold and Loeb’s defense attorney, it was their genetics and upbringing which caused this crime. If this were the case, I would be Leopold instead of the compassionate man that I am. I have no answers, and this 10-part poem — to be published one part per day for the next 10 days — has no explanation.

IX

Leopold & Loeb 8aLeopold & Loeb 8bLeopold & Loeb 8c


PREVIOUSLY:
Leopold & Loeb I
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb II
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb III
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb IV
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb V
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb VI
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb VII
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb VIII

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INCOMING: Win Tix To See Bob Mould

Monday, April 25th, 2016

BobMouldShellyMosman

Photo by SHELLY MOSMAN

These are glory days for Bob Mould, valedictorian of the indie rock class of 1984; glowering godfather of alt-rock circa 1992; dark lord of the molten dirge circa 1998; shirtless dancing bear spinning the wheels of steel for the Blow-Off, his hugely successful gay-friendly DJ parties, circa 2002; celebrated warts-n-all memoirist circa 2011; and acknowledged American Master of punk-as-fuck-three-chords-and-the-truth tunesmithery circa now. If it looks like things are finally breaking his way, that was never guaranteed. It could have just as easily gone the other way. In October he turns 56. In rock n’ roll years, that’s 108. At this age you’ve either become a living legend or you’re just old and in the way. You’ve either become a classic or just another neglected wreck rusting in the back yard of the music biz.

Perhaps mid-to-late aughts, when Mould released and toured a string of middling albums, a case could have been made that he was trending towards the latter. But in the wake of a high-profile autobiography, See A Little Light: The Trail of Rage and Melody and a like-titled tribute concert, “See a Little Light: A Celebration of the Music and Legacy of Bob Mould,” curated by Dave Grohl and featuring the likes of Britt Daniel from Spoon, Craig Finn and Tad Kubler from the Hold Steady, and No Age performing his songs at Disney Hall in Los Angeles a couple years back, not to mention a trifecta of instant-classic late-career albums for Merge, including the just-released Patch The Sky, Bob Mould has raised the curtain on third act that may well trump everything that came before.

All of which explains why we are so very proud to announce that we have a pair of tickets to see Bob Mould and Ted Leo at Underground Arts tomorrow night. To qualify, all you have to do is sign up for our mailing list (see right, below the masthead). Trust us, this is something you want to do. In addition to breaking news alerts and Phawker updates, you also get advanced warning about groovy concert ticket giveaways and other free swag opportunities like this one! After signing up, send us an email at PHAWKER66@GMAIL.COM telling us a much, with the words ZEN ARCADIA in the subject line and the correct answer to this Bob Mould trivia question: Husker Du famously covered “Love Is All Around,” which is the theme song to what TV show? Please include your full name and a mobile number for confirmation. The 13th Phawker reader to email wins! Good luck and godspeed!

PREVIOUSLY: Zen Arcadia

BOB MOULD & TED LEO PERFORM @ UNDERGROUND ARTS TUE. APRIL 26TH

 

 

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ARS POETICA: Leopold & Loeb VIII

Monday, April 25th, 2016

Leopold & Loeb Mugshots

 

BY
BLAZE ARCHER

AUTHOR’S NOTE: On May 21, 1924, Nathan Leopold, Jr., and Richard Loeb, two child prodigies poised to inherent their parents’ millions with the full promise of life ahead of them, killed a random fourteen year old boy. His name was Bobby Franks. To cover up the crime, they concocted a complicated ransom plot which failed. Loeb claimed he did this for the thrill of the kill: Leopold rationalized it as a way to become a Nietzschian superman. It was clear from psychiatric examination that Loeb held no regard for human life, either for others or his own, and would today be labeled a psychopath. Psychiatrists, however, noted Leopold had no criminal tendencies, and in fact had not committed any criminal acts until he had become romantically infatuated with Loeb. It was this infatuation which led him to crime: in exchange for sex, he vowed to do anything Loeb told him to do, be it criminal or otherwise. In writing this, I came to Leopold through my own life. We have comparable traumas, comparable sufferings, comparable inner torments. I consider his fate a possible fate of my own. According to Clarence Darrow, Leopold and Loeb’s defense attorney, it was their genetics and upbringing which caused this crime. If this were the case, I would be Leopold instead of the compassionate man that I am. I have no answers, and this 10-part poem — to be published one part per day for the next 10 days — has no explanation.

IX

Leopold & Loeb 9


PREVIOUSLY:
Leopold & Loeb I
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb II
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb III
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb IV
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb V
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb VI
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb VII

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EXCERPT: Zen Arcadia

Monday, April 25th, 2016

 

NEW DAY RISING

Bob Mould has survived the rise and fall of Husker Du in the 80s, Sugar going supernova in the 90s, a premature retirement in the late 90s, a detour into DJ culture during the twilight of the alt-rock gods in the early aughts and a wilderness period in the late aughts. And now, at 53, he is simply making the best music of his career. MAGNET goes to Portlandia to find out how that is even possible.

By Jonathan Valania

One day last month, Bob Mould walked into Portland Music Company, a beloved purveyor of amps, axes and snare drums that serves as armory for the Portlandian indie-rock wars. With his balding dome shaved down to stubble and white Gorton’s fisherman beard, his mouth a crooked scribble, Bob sort of looks like Charlie Brown as a middle-aged man. For reasons not immediately clear, Bob disregards the vast array of musical gear on display and peruses the MUSICIAN WANTED ads tacked to the wall. There’s the usual sad, desperate, Sharpie’d pleas of go-nowhere bands trolling for fresh souls to lure into their drain-circling miasma of FAIL.

ADVERTISING LOOKS AND CHOPS A MUST!

NO BIG HAIR!

CAREER! CAREER! CAREER!

Pathetic. Bob’s eyes begin to glaze over but as he turns to walk away, one ad catches his attention.

BAND SEEKS BASSIST INTO HUSKER DU & PETER, PAUL & MARY

That’s weird, he thinks, those are the exact words of the want ad that Kim Deal responded to when she joined The Pixies 1986. Intrigued, he reaches for one of the tear-away tabs with a phone number and the name CHARLES written on it. Suddenly Jason Narducy, who has been Bob’s touring bassist since 2005, and his biggest fan since the day he heard Workbook, appears out of nowhere and angrily rips down the sign, crumbles it up and storms off, like Lucy pulling away the football from Charlie Brown at the last minute. Startled, Bob’s face lights up with alarm and then dims to that defeated, deflated Charlie Brown look that betrays years of subsisting on on a daily diet of disappointment and quiet desperation. You can see it in his eyes: he feels foolish and unsettled and maybe even a little hurt. If I didn’t know that Narducy was married with children, I’d think it was a lover’s spat. It’s an odd, unflattering moment, uncomfortable to watch, and someone as intensely private as Bob must surely regret that it happened in front of a visiting journalist.  Fortunately, it never really happened.

CUT!

The camera stops filming and everyone on the film crew breaks out in laughter. Nailed it. Next.

The film crew is shooting a video for “I Don’t Know You Anymore”, the uber-catchy earworm of a single from Beauty And Ruin, Bob Mould’s 14th post-Husker Du album and easily his most vital and vibrant work since Copper Blue, maybe since Flip Your Wig. The premise of the video takes some explaining but it’s written by Jon Wurster — who’s been Bob’s drummer for the last six years, in between tours with Mountain Goats and the reactivated Superchunk — so it’s worth the trouble. Because if Wurster is not the the greatest drummers of the indie- rock era, and he could well be, he is certainly the funniest. So let’s break it down: Bob Mould runs into The Decembrists’ Colin Meloy at a Portland rehearsal studio. Meloy plays a slightly more Faustian version of himself and, with thinly-veiled ulterior motives, sets about convincing him that 7-inch singles are a relic of the past. Kids don’t line up to buy records these days, he says, they line up to buy smart phones. If you want to sell music these days, you have to convince people that it will make their lives better. From this exchange Bob gets the bright idea to convince ‘the kids’ that a 7-inch is, despite appearances to the contrary, actually some new, amazing and life-altering form of technology (which, if you think about it, is actually true if you take the word ‘new’ out of that description). Bob assembles the rest of the band for a kooky powerpoint presentation on how to pull off this hoax-cum-marketing-scheme. By the next scene the band has morphed into the marketing equivalent of the A-Team, outfitted with ridiculous matching blue shirts, bricked smartphone pendants hanging around their necks and staple guns, which were, once upon a time, the glue that literally held together the original social media: punk rock flyering. Hilarity ensues.

Now we’re in a gay bar called Crush, and a drag queen with huge Ann Margaret eyelashes and Betty Page bangs is rubbing Bob’s bald head like he’s Buddha. Bob blushes and then he fans himself. It’s getting hot in herre.

CUT!

The camera stops filming and everyone on the film crew breaks out in laughter. Nailed it. Next.

These are glory days for Bob Mould, valedictorian of the indie rock class of 1984; glowering godfather of alt-rock circa 1992; dark lord of the molten dirge circa 1998; shirtless dancing bear spinning the wheels of steel for the Blow-Off, his hugely successful gay-friendly DJ parties, circa 2002; celebrated warts-n-all memoirist circa 2011; and acknowledged American Master of punk-as-fuck-three-chords-and-the-truth tunesmithery circa now. If it looks like things are finally breaking his way, that was never guaranteed. It could have just as easily gone the other way. In October he turns 54. In rock n’ roll years, that’s 108. At this age you’ve either become a living legend or you’re just old and in the way. You’ve either become a classic or just another neglected wreck rusting in the back yard of the music biz. Perhaps mid-to-late aughts, when Mould released and toured a string of middling albums, a case could have been made that he was trending towards the latter. But in the wake of a high-profile autobiography, “See a Little Light: The Trail of Rage and Melody” and a like-titled tribute concert, “See a Little Light: A Celebration of the Music and Legacy of Bob Mould,” curated by Dave Grohl and featuring the likes of Britt Daniel from Spoon, Craig Finn and Tad Kubler from the Hold Steady, and No Age performing his songs at Disney Hall in Los Angeles, not to mention a pair of instant-classic late-career albums for Merge, Bob Mould has raised the curtain on third act that may well trump everything that came before.

Now we’re in Crema, a cavernous dispensary of high-octane caffeinated concoctions, teeming with nattily attired hipsterati sucking back double skinny lattes and pecking away at laptops and smart phones. In between takes of a scene — wherein Team Bob works the room, hyping the mysterious, life-changing invention they plan to unveil the following day at this thing called a record store — a steady stream of 20 and 30somethings approach Bob for autographs or selfies or just to tell him how Flip Your Wig or Copper Blue got them through many a dark night of the soul. MORE



BOB MOULD PLAYS UNDERGROUND ARTS TUESDAY APRIL 26TH

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Show Time Announces Complete Twin Peaks Cast

Monday, April 25th, 2016

TwinPeaksMissing

 

DEADLINE HOLLYWOOD: The new installment [airs in 2017 and] picks up twenty-five years after the events in the original series that kicked off with the inhabitants of a quaint northwestern town of Twin Peaks being shocked by the murder of homecoming queen Laura Palmer, played by Sheryl Lee who is back for the reboot.

Showtime LogoHere is the full list of the returning (marked with an asterisk) and new cast members of the Twin Peaks series, including the only previously confirmed actor, star Kyle MacLachlan, who returns as FBI Agent Dale Cooper. The list includes the beloved “log lady” Catherine Coulson who had been rumored to have filmed a few scenes before her death last fall. Other actors from the original include Sheryl Lee, Sherilyn Fenn, Mädchen Amick, David Duchovny, Michael Horse, Dana Ashbrook, Miguel Ferrer, Ray Wise, Grace Zabriskie, Peggy Lipton, Everett McGill and David Lynch.

The list of new additions include Amanda Seyfried, Naomi Watts, Ashley Judd, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Laura Dern, Ernie Hudson, Michael Cera, Trent Reznor, Jessica Szohr, Jane Levy, Richard Chamberlain, Robert Knepper, Jim Belushi, Tom Sizemore, Ethan Suplee, Balthazar Getty, Bailey Chase, David Koechner, and Larry Clarke. Check out the complete list HERE

PREVIOUSLY: A Comrephensive Q&A With Catherine “Log Lady” Coulson

In 1981 George Lucas approached David Lynch to direct the final installment of the STAR WARS trilogy. For years fans of Lynch and Lucas have wondered what that surreal vision would look like. Now we finally know.

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ARS POETICA: Leopold & Loeb VII

Sunday, April 24th, 2016

Leopold & Loeb Mugshots

 

BY
BLAZE ARCHER

AUTHOR’S NOTE: On May 21, 1924, Nathan Leopold, Jr., and Richard Loeb, two child prodigies poised to inherent their parents’ millions with the full promise of life ahead of them, killed a random fourteen year old boy. His name was Bobby Franks. To cover up the crime, they concocted a complicated ransom plot which failed. Loeb claimed he did this for the thrill of the kill: Leopold rationalized it as a way to become a Nietzschian superman. It was clear from psychiatric examination that Loeb held no regard for human life, either for others or his own, and would today be labeled a psychopath. Psychiatrists, however, noted Leopold had no criminal tendencies, and in fact had not committed any criminal acts until he had become romantically infatuated with Loeb. It was this infatuation which led him to crime: in exchange for sex, he vowed to do anything Loeb told him to do, be it criminal or otherwise. In writing this, I came to Leopold through my own life. We have comparable traumas, comparable sufferings, comparable inner torments. I consider his fate a possible fate of my own. According to Clarence Darrow, Leopold and Loeb’s defense attorney, it was their genetics and upbringing which caused this crime. If this were the case, I would be Leopold instead of the compassionate man that I am. I have no answers, and this 10-part poem — to be published one part per day for the next 10 days — has no explanation.

VII

Leopold & Loeb 7


PREVIOUSLY:
Leopold & Loeb I
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb II
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb III
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb IV
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb V
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb VI

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SH*T MY UNCLE SAYS: Where All The Money Went

Sunday, April 24th, 2016

us assets in tax havens

Click HERE to enlarge

SMUS-avatarBY WILLIAM C. HENRY Ever since I read Glenn Greenwald’s piece regarding “scandal, legalization and the Panama Papers,” it’s become harder and harder for me to believe that hope is anything other than a four letter word. I’m finding it nigh unto impossible to reconcile my own feelings about fairness, truth and equal justice with the fact that there is obviously a percentage of the American (and the world’s) population that has been created (or cultivated) too narcissistic, too shallow, too callous, too egocentric, too avaricious, too uncaring, too dispassionate, too sociopathic, too just plain old me me me, to give so much as a tinker’s damn about anything other than their own f _ _ _ ing criminally nihilistic hedonism.

Sure, we knew about the uber-greedy (and traitorous) middle-finger-up-the-ass-of-America’s-middle-and-lower-classes likes of Apple, GE, Microsoft, Pfizer, et al. And, yes, we were all too aware of the lies and the disgusting reality behind them — not to mention the all-enabling government/corporate collusion machine — surrounding the deceitful evasion of corporate taxes duly owed to a nation that affords these treacherous bastards the extraordinary protections and services that made it possible for them to earn their obscene profits in the first place.

Now it turns out that pretty much everyone with a panama-papers-820solid gold pot to piss in has been in on the scam all along, oinking with the same unbridled swinishness of so many unpatriotic American corporations. So it’s not just corporations who are traitors to their hard working, taxpaying protectors and providers, but anyone with a sufficient hoard of uber bucks who wishes to hide a goodly portion of it from the needs of their fellow Americans. And, certainly in America’s case, those “anyones” — be they corporations or simply ultra wealthy individuals — couldn’t carry out their maleficence without the succor and support of the folks who govern them. And, as universal avarice would have it, we’re learning that said financial filth also extends to the governing themselves. Many of the politicians and despots identified thus far probably don’t come as much of a shock. I think we already knew that Vladimir Putin and his henchmen, and the King of Saudi Arabia and his disgustingly unbounded nepotistic lineage, are not so secretly some of the scummiest thieves on the face of the earth, but the fact that the Prime Ministers of England, Iceland, Ukraine and Pakistan along with the entire leadership of China plus the President of Argentina happen to be among an ever-expanding list of the world’s most egregious larcenists might raise a few eyebrows.

It may also surprise you to learn that America’s indigenous rich don’t necessarily have to seek out secretive “offshore” banking whores in order to hide their excess. Currently 12 of our very own united states have established access to similar protections, with South Dakota, Delaware, Alaska, and Nevada leading the way. Isn’t it reassuring to know that a number of our own states (read: the governing) felt it so unfair that America’s wealthy were having to stash their overabundance overseas that they decided to get in on the scam?! Screw the needs of the country (or the world, for that matter) and God bless good old American resourcefulness!
(more…)

ARS POETICA: Leopold & Loeb VI

Sunday, April 24th, 2016

Leopold & Loeb Mugshots

 

BY
BLAZE ARCHER

AUTHOR’S NOTE: On May 21, 1924, Nathan Leopold, Jr., and Richard Loeb, two child prodigies poised to inherent their parents’ millions with the full promise of life ahead of them, killed a random fourteen year old boy. His name was Bobby Franks. To cover up the crime, they concocted a complicated ransom plot which failed. Loeb claimed he did this for the thrill of the kill: Leopold rationalized it as a way to become a Nietzschian superman. It was clear from psychiatric examination that Loeb held no regard for human life, either for others or his own, and would today be labeled a psychopath. Psychiatrists, however, noted Leopold had no criminal tendencies, and in fact had not committed any criminal acts until he had become romantically infatuated with Loeb. It was this infatuation which led him to crime: in exchange for sex, he vowed to do anything Loeb told him to do, be it criminal or otherwise. In writing this, I came to Leopold through my own life. We have comparable traumas, comparable sufferings, comparable inner torments. I consider his fate a possible fate of my own. According to Clarence Darrow, Leopold and Loeb’s defense attorney, it was their genetics and upbringing which caused this crime. If this were the case, I would be Leopold instead of the compassionate man that I am. I have no answers, and this 10-part poem — to be published one part per day for the next 10 days — has no explanation.

VI

Leopold & Loeb 6 copyLeopold & Loeb 6bLeopold & Loeb 6c


PREVIOUSLY:
Leopold & Loeb VI
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb II
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb III
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb IV
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb V

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HOT DOC: Father John Misty’s Letter Of Resignation

Friday, April 22nd, 2016

Fleet Fox

 

When the Fleet Foxes tour for Helplessness Blues wrapped in Japan on January 20th 2012, drummer Josh Tillman, aka Father John Misty, sent the following letter of resignation to Fleet Foxes mainman Robin Pecknold and the rest of his band mates. This letter has never been made public:

I realize this is sort of a bizarre time, seeing as we’re all on tour together right now and very well may all be in the same room as you read this, but on this last break home I had a pretty potent moment of clarity wherein I realized that I need to resign from the band.

This may come off as a touch dramatic, and silly, given that we’re a few weeks away from being done with this record cycle anyway; however, in my mind, it’s a big decision to extract myself emotionally, creatively, etc.

Again, I don’t want to seem presumptuous that I think this is some kind of big deal; I know people are looking forward as opposed to wringing hands over the band right now, but it’s important to me that I let you all know, as part of a larger shift in perspective.

I’ve been a real a son of a bitch to you guys on more than a few occasions, and I’m sorry you all had to bear the brunt of my self-loathing and unhappiness for so long and with such regularity. That said, I’m proud to have been a part of such a great band.

I think you know that ultimately what this is all about, and has been about forever and ever, is the fact that I am an impossibly self-motivated, obsessive narcissist (7 records… Who the hell does that? Someone should have held a creative intervention), who, as long as he isn’t diverting all his energy into his own enterprises, feels constricted, and marginalized, and useless. Which makes them full-blown, wounded-pride, wildly-irrationally resentful creeps.
I’ve hit a fork in the road in terms of how I regard myself, and what liberties I need to give myself to just move forward and be as productive and useful as I can without living in a malaise of mind games.

“Mind games” as in, a 4-year emotional steeplechase trying to fend off the depression that sets in anytime I’m not being creative of my own volition (this sounds dramatic, but is absolutely true) and telling myself I’m an asshole for not being able to just be congenial, content and grateful when I find myself with everything everyone I ever came up playing music with ever wanted (chiefly, respect/salvation from death-work), and worked their asses off for, sitting in my lap. Yet, the dreamer in me persists in being a total ingrate; ornery, petty and mean.

We both know what was going on in my head—internalizing the success of this band as a direct statement on the uselessness and uninspired, boring nature of my own music. My big failure, which is precious above all things to me, and is just about the only thing I’ve ever found to do that felt like it meant anything.

ALL OF WHICH IS INSANE. SO: I have this choice to either be productive and useful and do what gives me sustainable purpose and allows me to take my mind off all the obvious angst (see: the nature of this entire ridiculous email), even if that means I’m a total misanthropic, selfish monster who can’t get along with others, or to try and maintain the alternative, which it is obvious I fucking suck at. At fucking 30 years old.

On top of all this, I have had, what is in my mind at least, a substantial creative breakthrough, and writing, recording, etc. has taken on a whole new identity and voice, which I believe is my own, and which I don’t think I’ve ever been able to use until now, and I really, really, want to use it.

RELATED: I Went To Father John Misty’s House & All I Got Was Stoned…And This 7,156 Word Opus

RELATED: Robin Pecknold solo track, a cover of “Out Of Sight Out Of Mind” by The Five Keys, released late last year

FATHER JOHN MISTY PLAYS A SOLD OUT SHOW @ THE FILLMORE SAT. APRIL 23RD

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PRINCE: While My Guitar Gently Shreds

Friday, April 22nd, 2016

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ARS POETICA: Leopold & Loeb V

Friday, April 22nd, 2016

Leopold & Loeb Mugshots

 

BY
BLAZE ARCHER

AUTHOR’S NOTE: On May 21, 1924, Nathan Leopold, Jr., and Richard Loeb, two child prodigies poised to inherent their parents’ millions with the full promise of life ahead of them, killed a random fourteen year old boy. His name was Bobby Franks. To cover up the crime, they concocted a complicated ransom plot which failed. Loeb claimed he did this for the thrill of the kill: Leopold rationalized it as a way to become a Nietzschian superman. It was clear from psychiatric examination that Loeb held no regard for human life, either for others or his own, and would today be labeled a psychopath. Psychiatrists, however, noted Leopold had no criminal tendencies, and in fact had not committed any criminal acts until he had become romantically infatuated with Loeb. It was this infatuation which led him to crime: in exchange for sex, he vowed to do anything Loeb told him to do, be it criminal or otherwise. In writing this, I came to Leopold through my own life. We have comparable traumas, comparable sufferings, comparable inner torments. I consider his fate a possible fate of my own. According to Clarence Darrow, Leopold and Loeb’s defense attorney, it was their genetics and upbringing which caused this crime. If this were the case, I would be Leopold instead of the compassionate man that I am. I have no answers, and this 10-part poem — to be published one part per day for the next 10 days — has no explanation.

V

Leopold & Loeb 4 copyLeopold & Loeb 5b

PREVIOUSLY:
Leopold & Loeb I
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb II
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb III
PREVIOUSLY: Leopold & Loeb IV

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PRINCE: Creep

Friday, April 22nd, 2016

RELATED: The Time Prince Kicked Kim Kardashian Off The Stage

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RIP: Prince 1958-2016

Thursday, April 21st, 2016

prince_gif_smaller.gif.CROP.original-original

Artwork by GARY CARD

NEW YORK TIMES: Prince recorded the great majority of his music entirely on his own, playing every instrument and singing every vocal line. Then, performing those songs onstage, he worked as a bandleader in the polished, athletic, ecstatic tradition of James Brown, at once spontaneous and utterly precise, riveting enough to open a Grammy Awards telecast and play the Super Bowl halftime show. Often, Prince would follow a full-tilt arena concert with a late-night club show, pouring out even more music.

In Prince’s biggest hits, he sang passionately, affectionately and playfully about sex and seduction. With deep bedroom eyes and a sly, knowing smile, he was one of pop’s ultimate flirts. But elsewhere in his catalog were songs that addressed social issues and delved into mysticism and science fiction. He made himself a unifier of dualities — racial, sexual, musical, cultural — teasing at them in songs like “Controversy” and transcending them in his career.prince-art-official-age

He had plenty of eccentricities: his fondness for the color purple, using “U” for “you” and a drawn eye for “I” long before textspeak, his vigilant policing of his music online, his penchant for releasing huge troves of music at once, his intensely private persona. Yet among musicians and listeners of multiple generations, he was admired well-nigh universally. MORE

QUESTLOVE: Around two in the morning we were ready to go. Still no Prince, and the anthropological benefit of watching this strange half‑attended all‑skate was wearing off. Suddenly, Eddie [Murphy] came in.

“Hey,” he said. “I have an idea. Maybe don’t take those skates off just yet.”

And there he came, Prince, followed by a Princely entourage: his wife, Manuela; Larry Graham; some kids. I didn’t recognize the kids but they were a familiar type—show‑biz small‑fry, like I was all those years ago, when my father took me down to the green room to meet KISS.

Prince was carrying a big briefcase in his hand, and he was acting all mysterious, like it contained the glowing substance from Pulp Fic­tion or something. He made like he was going to open it, then stopped, then started again. Then he walked toward me.

“Where’s your phone?”

“What?” I said.

“Yeah, right, what?” he said. “I know you have it, Ahmir. Where is it?”.prince-art-official-age

I thought maybe he wanted to make a phone call. I admit now that’s not a plausible reading of the situation, but it was all so surreal. “It’s here,” I said.

He took it from me and turned it over in his hand. “Your coat is in coat check?”

“Yeah.”

“Put this with it.”

“Why? You think I’m going to record something?”

“Check the phone.”

“What about him?” I pointed at Eddie. “You’re not going to take his phone? He’ll tell everyone.”

Eddie put up his hands. “Hey, man, I don’t know what you’re talk­ing about. My phone’s in the car.”

I put the phone in coat check. Prince was asking me. I was being asked by Prince. It was Prince who was asking me. And fine, maybe I didn’t understand any part of what was happening, but sometimes you just have to launch yourself out into the river of an evening.

When I got back, Prince had the briefcase out on the floor. He clicked the lock and opened it, and took out the strangest, most singu­lar pair of roller skates I had ever seen. They were clear skates that lit up, and the wheels sent a multicolored spark trail into your path. MORE

NEW YORKER: Prince had his change of faith, he said, after a two-year-long debate with a musician prince-art-official-agefriend, Larry Graham. “I don’t see it really as a conversion,” he said. “More, you know, it’s a realization. It’s like Morpheus and Neo in ‘The Matrix.’ “ He attends meetings at a local Kingdom Hall, and, like his fellow-witnesses, he leaves his gated community from time to time to knock on doors and proselytize. “Sometimes people act surprised, but mostly they’re really cool about it,” he said.

Recently, Prince hosted an executive who works for Philip Anschutz, the Christian businessman whose company owns the Staples Center. “We started talking red and blue,” Prince said. “People with money—money like that—are not affected by the stock market, and they’re not freaking out over anything. They’re just watching. So here’s how it is: you’ve got the Republicans, and basically they want to live according to this.” He pointed to a Bible. “But there’s the problem of interpretation, and you’ve got some churches, some people, basically doing things and saying it comes from here, but it doesn’t. And then on the opposite end of the spectrum you’ve got blue, you’ve got the Democrats, and they’re, like, ‘You can do whatever you want.’ Gay marriage, whatever. But neither of them is right.”

When asked about his perspective on social issues—gay marriage, abortion—Prince tapped his Bible and said, “God came to earth and saw people sticking it wherever and doing it with whatever, and he just cleared it all out. He was, like, ‘Enough.’” MORE

NFL: Prince, I want you to know it’s raining.

PRINCE: I know it’s raining.

NFL: Are you OK with that?

PRINCE: Can you make it rain harder? MORE

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