The Southern Gothic.

I met a troll today along the riverbank
Minding his business, for the most part,
Stringing some barbed wire on the lip of a riverbank.
His name was...well..maybe thats not important
I'm sure he wouldn't care too much.
He was working on building a bridge for the next two years
That made too much sense.

I found myself terrified of his hands
And where they had been.
They slapped and pawed at whatever they met
Like two steel jaws who had been at work
all their stale lives.
I could imagine them closing over me and I shuddered.
He didn't notice. Of course he didn't notice.
He wasn't a troll of small and meager emotions.
An inbred packhorse, more like it. A walking golem,
his backbone transformed to seedy granite.
His adam's apple bobbled like a stone,
chortling beneath his cracked skin.

His eyes never really seemed to focus on anything.
For too long, they had stared at the same tasks
Over and over again.
The mind starts to wander, perhaps,
Until it wanders too far.
And the eyes leave soon after.
I could hear him talking, but the orbs never really met.
They were just there, windows to an abyss.


He had plenty of stories though, great ones at that.
He has a girlfriend, and I find that too ridiculous to even deny.
Scratching the hair on his reptilian nape,
He told me stories of times long ago.
Times when he held 6 men at gunpoint,
Times when he spent months in jail,
Times when he worked on this road and that bridge,
Times when a man created his own grotesque code of chivalry,
Times when a man could become a monster
And the whole world never took time to notice.

I can sense him now, lurking in the night,
not in a dangerous way, but lurking nonetheless.
For how could something like that ever exist with peace?
What hideous mistake did someone make to allow that man
to come to this fate? What tragedy must have befallen?
Sometimes I shudder to think that at night, he
drops to the ground and sniffs the moist earth for
Stories from his fantastic ancestors,
His fellow Gothic monstrostities.

And yet,
I wonder where he trods off at times to sleep,
like a bear or a mammoth to hibernate.
I wonder what haunts his dreams, or what
plagues his past. I wonder why he prounounces iron as "Eye Run" and
where the Gap exists that he says he grew up within.
I want to follow him deep into the darkest hollows and
spy out his wretched lair.
I want to wrap my arm around him and laugh at the same time I shudder.

He's Bigfoot. He's Beorn. He's Grendel.

I met a troll walking along the riverbank.
And I wonder what he's thinking.

Autotune

The great thing about pop music is that it reserves itself in your memory as a distinct representative of a time in your life. Every once in awhile, the song goes beyond this idea and becomes a cultural icon, something to define a generation, at least in a canonical sense. Think MMMbop. But when that happens, the song really only puts things in an historical perspective. When I hear MMMbop, I don't dance, because I may or may not be having a history lesson from 1997. Thus, I must cling to the pop songs that succeed in attracting only MY eye, and not the general population. And, you know, it's amazing how fast a pop song can become absolutely miserable to endure. Bleeding Love may go down as the best song of 2008, but after 8 months of that song, it's like pulling teeth. So fuck that song. What we (or less pretentiously, I) must do is record the three pop songs from 2008 that will hopefully be retrofied by college students in 20 years. That thought comforts me.

3. Leaving by Jesse McCartney- Forget the lyrics or message; the initial happiness created from the opening computer twerks of this song never lets up.

2. Can't Believe It (Remix) by T-Pain and Justin Timberlake- Fuck you Lil Wayne. This version never lets go with its catchiness. Try not humming it. Try it. Also, the argument over Autotune has to stop. Who cares? Whether or not it adds to the song, it's part of it. No one wants to hear this song live anyways. It's best to listen to in the car or with all your white friends.

1.Forever by Chris Brown- Impossible not to smile when this song comes on. If anyone can step up to the ranks of Michael Jackson, look for Chris Brown and perhaps Timberlake. A Herculean task, yes, but have you listened to these songs? Forever undeniably challenges the rift between art and kitsch. Whereas film has established a post-apocalyptic trend, Chris Brown just wants to dance.


Fuego.