Hurdy Gurdy
Song of Introduction: After the God of this world has turned his back on his creation a sole cowboy leans a shoulder on an apple tree atop the highest cliff in an ocean of dust and looks as far … Continued
The Rant would like to have a heart-to-heart. First, no matter how you bedazzle, bejewel, or bling that thing, a fanny pack is still a fanny pack. You look like an old man from Boca that just finished looking for … Continued
Abandoned tracks snake through the woods up by Ellijay. A long spot where there ain’t hardly wind, and the air is heavy with dirty, sweet smells that thwack the back of your mouth and sting going down. Chunks of lignite … Continued
The Rant recently imagined we had created an analysis of hipsterdom that could be mapped like a Nate Silver electoral projection. If you began at Calliope World Headquarters in Tulsa and radiated outward, hipsters would grow increasingly earnest and humorless … Continued