Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

I haven't been sleeping much at night lately. My mind has been racing while I lie in bed. Christmas break is like that. There are many so many places the mind can go. I kept thinking of the names of zines I created, band names for long lost bands, the names of never conceived, or loosely conceived novels or short stories. I started thinking about revisiting my zines, Teriyaki Linguine and Asthmatic Cough Syrup. I pictured revisiting the embarrassing moments or reworking some of the short stories. All were indicators of my frame of mind at the time. For example, "Somerset's Dream" is indicative of what I was reading at the time. Band names run the gamut -- Gangrenous Limbs,  Wood Tick Races,  Orc Castration,  Dexter Holland's Left Nut,  or Chuck Klosterman's Left Nut, if you prefer.  The musical genres are fairly evident. Somewhere, some time, some place, these dreams are in use. Beyond the dream veil, behind the can't of regrets, the stories are writ...

 Years Leave Us  Another rough year has come and reluctantly bitten the dust. We sit complacent, or, perhaps, angered. There is too much tension in our bones -- we sit sprung, ready to snap, compromised. We can barely meet eyes, mostly because I am insufferable. I pay for my mistakes often before I make them. The anger that wells inside needs an outlet. Where will it go? I hope it dissipates soon. Gremlins I lack patience with electronics. I will toss, throw, or break into shards any that come near me. I blame it on the Gremlins, but it is my own uneasy, impatient nature that fills the junkyards with instant rubble. My heart tells me no, but I break things anyway. They say patience is a virtue, but that doesn't help us. We want it now, an instantaneous MTV generation gobbling up internet bandwidth. We can't stop; we eat cellphones for breakfast, overload mp3 players, trip every electronic switch into the red. Why you ask? Because we can. Roughhousing the Environmen...