Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

The Replacements have been one of my favorite bands for a very long time, and they have been getting me through some tough times lately. My dissertation is nearing the halfway point, and I have not had a moment to blog lately. I can't believe it's been two months. Today the playlist contained some Sonic Youth followed by the Replacement's amazing Let It Be , an album that changes those who listen intently. Picking a track to review from such a monumental album is extremely difficult. Where does one start? The album begins with the classic, propulsive rocker, "I Will Dare," and does not let up. "My Favorite Thing" is a pure pop wonder. "We're Comin' Out" has one of the coolest punky riffs of the band's early period before they signed to Sire. It recalls Husker Du more than most of their other songs. "Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out" is another punky piss-take, showcasing Paul Westerberg's sense of humor. "Androgynou...

In my darkest days I tend to sleep a lot. Nap after nap comes in quick succession when turning off the world is as easy as clicking the light switch and settling into a light snooze. I have become reckless in my pursuit of sleep, searching for one long forgotten dream. Perhaps, I long for anything that will shut out the light. When I was a kid, I had a recurring dream filled with creepy witches and small children, rendered in cartoon detail. This brain animation came weekly for a period, then just stopped. I've never had it again. Could this be the dreamworld I seek? Or, perhaps, there is another world buried deep in my psyche, asking to be explored? I've never had another dream that beat on the doors so often as this one. Most dreams come once and never return. Dreams are always peopled with the strangest or most unexpected characters, random places from the past, and enough chicanery to make election year look like a triumph. Random classmates from grade school appear alo...

Sundays used to be a time to relax with a good cup of hot cocoa. My grandfather would swing by our house for a cup of coffee. He would stay for a long time before going into work at the garage. Or I would climb into my dad's old red F-150 and we'd go partridge hunting down the back roads outside  town, prowling for startled birds. We would drive down those lonely old dirt roads for hours, searching for dinner, scouring in the musky air. Sundays have always held a peculiar fascination for me. Days of rest, maybe, but they can also be days of great excitement. Lately though, they're just more days to work. In front of a computer screen, I dole out the daily word count, wishing I could be up north or down south, any damn where but here. I'd rather be running through the woods, disc golfing, just walking down the street, and instead I'm here. I guess it's time to go. Johnny Cash - Sunday Morning Coming Down https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ED5s1-Fe9FA Kris Kr...