Picture this: The sweat is coagulating on your brow and stinging your eyes, making it nearly impossible to see the small wisp of green flying at you, but faster than it seems that your eyes are capable of calculating, you… swing. And there it is. You follow through the twang of your racket and swing all the way through. Your opponent darts nimbly across their side of the court to return but they fall short.
You’ve won. You’ve won Wimbledon… the Australian Open... the Superbowl… the Stanley Cup… whatever!
Q: What would you do immediately after the biggest accomplishment of…
cupping notes of chocolate at breakfast
melting glaciers with my mouth —
see, i am powerful with this pen;
the powerful think they want swords.
they give you folly, and ask gratitude for it;
they ask for a tithe from pension;
they ask you to carry the basket;
they ask you to slip nickels in for the sake of god;
they ask you to cover your fucking nipples for the sake of modesty,
but they want you to feed them.
johnny cover your mouth when you cough;
when you speak,
you are contagion.
you are an animal.
you are a zombie.
that is why they ask you.
zachary valladon is an oklahoma city based creative. zsv on twitter.
O, hai there.
It’s been a lingering minute since I decided to write something for myself. Last year, for the first time in four (or so) years, I skipped out on writing a ‘Top 10 albums of the year’ because…well, I don’t know why. Maybe I was in a weird place, or something? Hard to say.
In any case, 2016 was such a cool year in music, I couldn’t help but to sit down for a minute and reflect on all of the amazing stuff that’s popped up in what is being infamously referred to as ‘the year the music…