The church is filled with losers psycho or confused
The breakfast cereal that I eat, with the rather nondescript packaging, now features indie-rockers on the box. I make this discovery at 8:00 am, as I crunch whole grains. The indie-rockers are taking over the world. And there’s nothing they won’t try to sell you anymore without some vaguely familiar song etching its way into your subconscious. I rustle around in the box a little looking for the new Shins’ cd, but all I find is an insipid fistful of protein twigs (sic).

A couple of weeks ago I told A. that I’m going to start listening exclusively to Norwegian dark metal, a proclamation that has sadly fallen by the wayside. Norwegian metal is where it’s at, I told him enthusiastically. It’s like a cleansing of the pallet. And do I ever need some cleansing. The only question now is which breakfast cereal to eat. Although, that seems easy, too: Capn’ Crunch, which could easily be the name of some Nordic Metal band, and in all probability is.

Everybody say whoop-di-doo
New York City in a flash, dressed down in every article of clothing imaginable, as you run from train to the venue and back again. And as always, the completely arbitrary left hand turn into the best restaurant you’ve eaten at in weeks, since the last time you were here. I keep thinking I should move to New York, and then all I can think of is getting squashed like a bug. There’s something inherent about the getting squashed that just nixes the idea altogether.

At the show two NYU students from Middletown, New York cornered me and began asking me questions of all manner of intensity and inquisitiveness. Where are you from? What do you do? What are your goals in life? I found the whole interrogation rather disconcerting, I have to say, and they turned away with at least some slight hint of chagrin.