AH, ONE DAY you’ll kick back on the porch and tell your great grandchildren how back in the day, music was encoded on huge black vinyl discs that spun around in one place, sodas cost only a buck, and “Snoop” was the Doggfather’s name.
IMAGINE that it is my job to help choose a name for a baby boy that was due to be born yesterday and may be born today…or tomorrow. Or the next day. Now, dust off that favorite Spanish or Nahuatl name you’ve turned over in your mind and drop it in the suggestion box.
THE PRESIDENTIAL DEBATES ARE OVER and unless a fireball comes blazing out of the sky with Osama bin Laden handcuffed to it bearing an oxygen tank to resuscitate the Free Market Philosophy wrapped in a economic surplus-scented plan to win Afghanistan, John McCain’s anger and slurs won’t be enough to yank the Republican brand out of the septic muck in which it has mired itself.
House of Nezua
the XOLAGRAFIK theater!
