Rumpshaker Rewind: Hip Hop Bellydancing Megamix
Big ups this month to rumpshakers Babydaddy and Tanja who collaborated on this dope bellydancing megamix.
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Big ups this month to rumpshakers Babydaddy and Tanja who collaborated on this dope bellydancing megamix.
posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments
Last weekend, I hosted a viral video night with meme master Jamie Wilkinson at the Henry Miller Memorial Library in Big Sur. I’ve long wanted to do an event at this magical, redwood enclosed, roadside oasis. The Library is a destination I’ve often visited since moving to the west coast 13 years ago. In recent years, their small outdoor stage has ...
[Link]This is what happens when I don't call Derek back. I think he should release it as his first single. [Link]
What follows is the last of the poems I chose for the Personal Poetry Anthology project. If I think of it, I'll post the introduction to the anthology itself in a day or two. [Link]
The poem, for me, comes alive in the second stanza as the “impossible legs” descend from the “ball of his torso.” It’s a picture that we all recognize, I think: a child’s drawn conception of the human figure, of what we look like. Elongated legs, blocky or spherical bodies, wide heads, eyes way up at the top, ears wherever they ... [Link]
Grateful for their tour
of the pharmacy,
the first-grade class
has drawn these pictures,
each self-portrait taped
to the window-glass,
faces wide to the street,
round and available,
with parallel lines for hair.
I like this one best: Brian,
whose attenuated name
fills a quarter of the frame,
stretched beside impossible
legs descending from the ball
of his torso, two long arms
springing from that same
central sphere. He breathes here,
on his page. It isn’t craft ... [Link]
It’s a sonnet. And there’s a wonderful dissonance between the tradition of the sonnet, the formality of the sonnet, the aura that surrounds the sonnet, and what we keep running into in the text of this poem – Superman, Lois Lane, Clark Kent. There’s a wonderful friction between what we assume a sonnet should be and all of the associations ... [Link]
In secret, Lois Lane wore coins and jewels
draped perfectly against the naked skin
she perfumed with wild jasmine, taunting fools
who’d denigrate her dance as snaky sin.
She called for drumbeat, shook the stage apart
with shift and shimmy, crescent arms upraised
to show the world the power of her art
and how on Earth the Goddess should be praised.
In silvered silk, her pinned-up hair set ... [Link]
The proto-rock ‘n’ roll shout. The pure chunk of three-chord adolescent nonsense. The primevalest of the primeval garage rock riffs. The teenage attempt at grunting and singing what can’t be said (and, judging from this song, can’t really be sung, either). Pinsky takes his title from the Kingsmen’s two minutes of supposed obscenity, two minutes onto which you can project ... [Link]
I have heard of Black Irish but I never
Heard of White Catholic or White Jew.
I have heard of “Is Poetry Popular?” but I
Never heard of Lawrence Welk Drove
Sid Caesar Off Television.
I have heard of Kwanzaa but I have
Never heard of Bert Williams.
I have never heard of Will
Rogers or Roger Williams
Or Buck Rogers or Pearl Buck
Or Frank Buck or Frank
Merriwell At ... [Link]
Students' anthologies are due Wednesday and Thursday. I'm almost done, too: a couple more introductions to edit and the "overall" introduction to write and then it's time to move on.
I'm in the middle of another Rolling Stone "100 Best" reactions, this time to Joni Mitchell's Blue. Anyone have thoughts on that record? [Link]
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