Being a Receptionist

Being a receptionist is pretty terrible, but you know what they say, "Don't look a pretty terrible gift horse in the mouth," because if you do it might turn into a more terrible gift horse.

I am no longer PDI's receptionist, but it's file filer.

In the Shade of The Eclipse

Sometimes it's easy, too easy (much too easy), to forget about artists who seemed so close to breaking out but just didn't quite do it. We assume that since they were on the precipice of fame and fortune, that they had made it, and that the rest of their career/life would simply fall into place.

Few have the strength, skill, stamina, talent, persistence, luck, willpower, endurance, and speechcraft to rise to the top.

But I can think of one who did, and he's been smiling down from his proverbial Mt. Olympus for the better part of a year, a hip-hop Zeus for the better part of a year.

It's your boy Bangs.



http://www.bangs8.com/

The Chest of Man

Grace is the venom poured in my cup...

Accepted under illusory terms

It is a celebrated deception

That affords thorns regality

An Explanation

I took my blog title from a poem by Stephen Crane from his collection "The Black Riders and Other Lines". Here it is:

XIII

If there is a witness to my little life,

To my tiny throes and struggles,

He sees a fool;

And it is not fine for gods to menace fools.