I have a tape of a tape of Depeche Mode's Music for the Masses, half of which plays backward. Apparently I recorded it like that, a twisted tape onto a healthy tape, though I don't think it was intentional. I've heard it enough times that I can anticipate exactly where on the tape it happens, when the synthesizers and voices turn satanic and get sucked out of the speakers like a soprano vacuum cleaner, over and over again, sweep, sweep, sweep. Today in the car, on my way home from work, I left it playing after the transition, as I sometimes do, wondering where I could go besides home. I didn't think of any place. Sucked out of the speakers and out of my open windows, along with my hair.
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FROM THE ARCHIVES:  
People We Like. I've got a new photo in The Morning News: the co-owners of Frank White, an unusual coffee shop in my neighborhood. — 07.17.08 Charles Atlas will make a man of you! "Against Atlas' better judgment, I declined performing all of my exercises in the nude." (accompanying shirtless photo of the author taken by me.) — 07.17.08 Cat on a Leash. I am totally buying a leash for Coleman asap. — 06.25.08 The Brooklynites. Great photos of a wide range of people from my favorite borough. (Thanks to Kurt [a talented photographer himself] for passing this on.) — 12.19.07 Killer Boob. My childhood (and current!) friend Sarah talks about her experience with breast cancer on her well written and charming blog. She's an American living in Belgium and happens to be one of the best people I know. — 12.19.07 |
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