Philip Glass has a new website up. I like it.
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Alright, so yesterday I met with a candidate. She was great. Today she called to let me know she'd accepted another offer. Such is life. I'm a bit bummed.
"Well it was a pleasure meeting with you."
I hang up the phone and think for a moment about nothing. I focus, re-focus. Something catches my eye, a bright streak of wrinkled light. It's me. I shift my attention to the strange, reflective envelope that has been sitting on my desk, partially obscured by other resumes. I peel back the flap and remove the substance, nothing much more than the superficial, than the…
Mark Fleischmann sent this url, asking, "is there a parallel with the audio business here?" Oh really, Mark—how could you think that?
Huckleberry hones those claws when he's happy. He hones 'em when he's frustrated. Essentially, he hones 'em a lot—which explains why my paws are so frequently bloody.
I grew up on the works of Franklin W. Dixon and Victor Appleton II, which is to say the Hardy Boys and Tom Swift, Jr., as they appeared in the early 1960s. I've had the same disillusioning experience as Gene Weingarten—except that I also devoured the original 1930s versions when I discovered the pulps collection at Alderman Library at UVA.
However, I'm no Gene Weingarten, so I failed to see the profound tragedy at the heart of my boyhood idols.
But this is a story of redemption too. Aunt Gertrude enters the series: "If you are a good writer, you cannot hide it forever, no matter…
Why rage against an ill wind? I realize that complaining incessantly about the ongoing plundering of rock, classic and otherwise, by Madison Avenue ain't gonna make it stop but is there no one who can resist the allure of cash?
The latest person to hate, actually she kind of invented the category, is the ex-Mrs Cobain, who sold "Breed" to some fucking video game maker so they could whore it out for some damned, frenetic TV ad. And this from a woman who's until now been rightfully prickly when it comes to licensing Nirvana's music for anything from film soundtracks to new Nirvana records…
A must for Zappa fans. Studio Ralf is moving—and everything must go! At these prices, it will.