By M. Tekel,on September 29th,2010%  His laugh is ominous. It’s pathetic and sad and it will creep into my dreams for years.
My mother dragged me to this thing,this convention,this seminar to learn about a way to make money. I told her I wasn’t interested,but she said,“C’mon you need a summer job. Just check it out.” Collecting aluminum cans was earning me a nickel a day,so next thing I know,I’m at an “information study” with a circle of my mother’s church friends,all of whom are drinking bottled water and laughing with this guy about luxurious vacations,prostate cancer (I’m not kidding) and finance. Lots of finance. Read More By M. Tekel,on July 31st,2010% 
The RV was the covered wagon of the 20th century,the head of a caravan cutting through the same arid landscape of Manifested settlers. Their foreheads swathed in familiar sweat,both the Modern and the Industrial man knew this expansion was justified and inevitable. Nowhere but Arizona holds fervent dogma like this,even to this day. Whether true or not,this land is my land,this land was always my land,this land was never your land. Read More By M. Tekel,on June 20th,2010% 
She calls me after work,carrying an orange juice box full of flowers and she says,let’s go to the cemetery. I’m reluctant. I’m slightly hungover,at the very least tired,not amused by anything. Like the sky,I feel overcast. Trudging through puddles,accumulations of soggy pine needles and dead leaves,fall feels omnipresent. Inescapable drudgery. We place brilliantly-dyed flowers,the stems hacked off,onto any graves that look lonely. Neon green,canary yellow,periwinkle and opal white. Fake colors. I’m ignoring any new or military graves,looking for the markers placed in Citizen’s Cemetery that are for normal people,people so long dead they never knew what electricity was or chemical warfare or strip malls or nuclear holocaust or ATM’s or any of this. Doesn’t their pain,centuries old,long buried,seem more justified than this? Even if it’s forgotten? I yearned for causes of death,some kind of excuse,but there were none. My thoughts couldn’t connect. I searched for the graves of children,babies with the same birth and death date. I found pairs,two brothers who died before they were my age. Those tombstones for married couples,the one side already etched deep with dates,the other,empty . . . patiently waiting. Over one such couple’s grave,I kissed her,long and hard. She was crying. It was hard,raw. It could be us soon. But maybe that’s just selfish thinking. And there’s a picture of our feet,the box,the tomb. We gave the remainder of the flowers to a man bringing his kids to the cemetery.
originally published Oct. 10 2009 | A sample text widgetEtiam pulvinar consectetur dolor sed malesuada. Ut convallis euismod dolor nec pretium. Nunc ut tristique massa. Nam sodales mi vitae dolor ullamcorper et vulputate enim accumsan. Morbi orci magna,tincidunt vitae molestie nec,molestie at mi. Nulla nulla lorem,suscipit in posuere in,interdum non magna. | Specialty Gunk Runner- Punk Heaven
Arizona’s Authority Zero have become international icons while staying true to their roots By Troy Farah Published on 01/12/2012 in Flag Live With hit singles like “One More Minute,” “Revolution,” and the Wall of Voodoo cover “Mexican Radio,” Authority Zero are arguably the most popular band to come out of Mesa—and they’re especially familiar with any kid who got into skateboarding or punk around the turn of the century. Noted for their mix of reggae,ska-punk and their Spanish and Portuguese inspirations,the four-piece admit a deep admiration for Sublime,Pennywise and Bad Religion,making them a distinct . . . →Read More:Punk Heaven - Love,travel,murder,music with Amy LaVere
The confessional style and restless spirit of songstress Amy LaVere By Troy Farah Published on 09/01/2011 in Flag Live Soft-spoken,with a voice like a Midwestern version of Fiona Apple,Amy LaVere wields an upright bass almost bigger than she is when playing her Americana tunes about falling in love,falling out and,sometimes,murder. LaVere’s third album, Stranger Me,was written over four years while LaVere dealt with the deterioration of a long-term relationship and the death of friend and producer Jim Dickinson. Filled with bitterness,confusion and LaVere’s trademark self-sufficiency for coping with loss, Stranger Me was lauded by Spin magazine . . . →Read More:Love,travel,murder,music with Amy LaVere - Flogging Molly’s Soundtrack to the Working Life
Soundtrack to the Working Life Irish-American punks Flogging Molly are taking their vision much further than they ever imagined possible By Troy Farah Published on 05/05/2011 They’re Irish. They’re punk. They’re Irish-punk. You know,they’re Flogging Molly. For 14 years,Flogging Molly have circled the globe on a nearly endless tour playing intense,intoxicated tunes evoking the Dead Kennedys and the Dubliners. Only Dave King,lead singer and guitarist,is actually from Ireland. The band itself was formed in Los Angeles around the Irish pub Molly Malone’s,where the seven-piece band played so often they felt like they were flogging . . . →Read More:Flogging Molly’s Soundtrack to the Working Life - Protesters pissed about impending police state
Much like the controversial law SB 1070,a new piece of legislation dealing with immigration,SB 1611,has drawn some angry critics. Protesters gathered outside Flagstaff City Hall Wednesday evening waving signs and chanting “Si se puede” at traffic. Students and citizens,young and old,stood together and later took turns giving speeches through a bullhorn. If passed,SB 1611 will tighten identification requirements on every level from school enrollment to hospital visits to getting a job to driving a car. It would be illegal for an undocumented immigrant to enroll in university,to drive,to get treatment from a . . . →Read More:Protesters pissed about impending police state - Slightly Drunk at NAU’s Drinking Age Debate
Well,NAU hosted a debate about lowering the drinking age and with all the graphs and statistics thrown around like t-shirts at a Wildcats game,it was hard to concentrate,but I did learn one important thing tonight – debates are some of the most boring places,next to doctor’s offices and graduation ceremonies,to show up to drunk as fuck. I only had four vodka shots in the “Mountain Dew” bottle I snuck in and only suckled down two beers and three additional shots before stumbling into this event,but I sat quietly and listened intently to some argument . . . →Read More:Slightly Drunk at NAU’s Drinking Age Debate
|
His laugh is ominous. It’s pathetic and sad and it will creep into my dreams for years.
