Month: April 2016

cafe at the toledo museum of art – gouda and onion gnocchi (food, 2016)

Reviewing food is tough. 1) I’m not a food expert, nor would I pretend to be one. 2) I stopped eating meat two weeks ago. I’m torn between taking the plunge and partaking in an extravagant meal that happens to have meat or stick true to my guns and forgo the flesh. Part of my thought process hinges on the fact that I will be missing out on meals that my maybe? readers might want to read. That’s right, I’m confident someone will read this shitty food criticism. Such was my plight when I decided to take a trip to my local art museum and indulge myself in their “fancy” cafe. I’ve gone many times in the past and my go to dish has always been the salmon filet sandwich. Just a 6 oz cut of fish with some tzatziki like sauce and a tomato. The pickle on the side is just icing on the cake. Heading to the cafe, I started to worry. Yes, fish isn’t technically “meat”, but it comes from a living …

happy wheels (video game)

I’m a bit baffled by the popularity of this game. My nephews like it. Kids like it. People like it. And I hate it. There’s just no way to state it any other than this is a gimmick. There’s no real winners. No real challenge. Just launch a sprite across a level and watch him get manhandled by spikes, canons, and other objects. It’s pure nihilism; a Lynchian version of Jackass; an eternal loop of destruction that brings shrieks of delight from the young ones. As an uncle I try to not to be that guy who says “This is too mature for the kids” but I definitely start to get that vibe from this game. It’s pure bloodthirst. Imagine if Grand Theft Auto verged on just killing random strangers mode and you start to get the sense of the true anarchy that this game elicits. But even Rockstar’s megahit franchise has some sense of logos in how you must defend your career as a budding criminal. And this game makes the destruction of those …

elvis & nixon (film, 2016)

I had a snarky suspicion that something was just too perfect about the new film Elvis & Nixon when I discovered it was playing at my local Cinemark. I had no idea what it was about and was frankly delighted to finally see a film without being spoiled by the everpresent World Wide Web. So it came as a surprise to see what should have been an odd little gem being played at a major theater chain. And better yet, the film even boasted uber odd actor Michael Shannon as I shit you not Elvis. It’s an inspired casting decision, one that has hints of greatness and reflection of Elvis’s hidden nature. Shannon plays Elvis as quiet and mumbling, and sounds nothing like the real man, a trait that is made into a joke in the film. Sitting in a airport terminal, an Elvis impersonator compliments the real Elvis in how close he is. But the Elvis impersonator claims he’s the best, and sings a rendition of one of his songs. And sure enough, the …

AP’s Hot Take – Why the Success of Good Will Hunting?

The following article was written by guest contributor Arthur Pendalyn. Arthur is a stay at home unemployed college graduate with a BA in English literature, though he prefers the world “fiction”. In his past he moonlighted as a video store clerk, and even once won an argument with a customer who tried to persuade him that David Lynch’s Dune was underrated masterpiece. To quote Arthur, “That movie is a piece of shit!” There comes a moment in time when every actor has to fake it just to get a job. Johnny Depp waded in the depths of the teenage schlock fest televisoin show known as 21 Jump Street; Stallone did a porno. The bottom line is every actor must drag himself (I prefer the traditional masculine pronoun to the banal so-call “progressive” plural non-gendered) through mud just to one day earn that ever career defining Oscar. And then there were Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. Everything about them screams entitlement. Their cocksure smiles, chiseled jaw lines, that grace in the public eye. Hell, I could be them …

the reeds (sculpture)

This sculpture can be found in the middle of the Main Library in downtown Toledo, Ohio. Carved out of red stained glass, the work is located inconspicuously under a small patch of an upper floor that holds a dining table and as as a bridge to an art gallery. Its presence is striking when found because of how stark the red contrasts with the gray metal of the ceiling and and white walls. Thematically, the sculpture is rather dull in its simplicity. There’s an obvious representation of reeds and a blooming color that represents the blood that runs through all of life and supports it. After staring at it for a while, I noticed that it resembled a Rothko painting in its geometrical representation of color. I wasn’t particularly in awe or struck by it, but rather shrugged and and whispered art. Trying to gain some insight into the simplistic piece against the very real notion that there might not be some, I walked around the library looking at it from different angles. It took …

this be the verse (poem, 1972)

This little gem of a poem consists of three stanzas written with an alternating rhyme scheme, employing an iambic tetrameter and my god do I have no idea what that is. “This be the Verse” is a slam dunk of a tongue-in-cheek mockery of the old guard of poets harking back to W. B. Yeats. The truth is that by examining the structure and technicality of this tightly constructed poem, we strip it of all its appeal and allure. What striking about the poem is Larkin’s open embrace of a modern vernacular that reminds me of the African American community here across the ponds. Honest to the god, when I first read this I though Larkin was black. But a quick Wikipedia search showed an old white guy born in England in 1922. That a guy like that could write a poem like this in 1972 says something about where the new voices in poetry were coming from. And boy does it do so by packing a one two punch of shattering the last generation …