I remember the moment, 9 years ago, that my dad-in-law looked at my wedding ring diamond under a microscope. He said, “I’d know your diamond anywhere. It has a really unique imperfection.” I think people are like diamonds.
Ferguson Riots: To Build Or To Destroy? (Poem)
I was going through photo albums tonight and found this anonymous poem tucked away on a piece of yellowed paper: I saw them tearing a building down, A gang of men in my home town. With a heave and a ho and a “Yes! Yes!” yell They swung a beam and a side wall fell.
I Don’t Have Fans, I Have a Listenership: The Complexities of an Artistic Demographic
I’ve never liked calling the people who love my music “fans.” That three-letter-word makes me think of those screaming hordes of ditsy girls who swooned over The Beatles. Fans buy stuff even if it’s crummy. Fans have crushes on celebrities they’ll probably never meet. Fans quote artists even if the quote is completely asinine. Fans get their butts autographed. Niki …
