Pinche Quincho

Life experience has shown me that of the five senses only four really actually matter (sorry touch). Of course this is coming from someone whose sense of touch is more developed than the others. When it comes to sight, smell, hearing, and taste my senses are good enough to get me by. I can distinguish minute subtleties in color, which is handy as an art historian; but my near-sightedness, even with corrective lenses, makes distances foggy. My hearing is equally hit or miss. For me, most of  the world is white noise. Or at least I can make it into white noise. Ticking clocks, humming, squeaking, doesn’t bother me. The only noise that keeps me up at night is cumbia so loud it invades your tired body, takes hold, and doesn’t surrender. This is what happened to me Friday night. Continue reading

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Attack of Muzak


In the first episode of season three of SATC Carrie and friends famously cross water to check out some guys. Once the dancing start Carries observes: “…I began to realize that Staten Island was like a quaint European country. The American music was 20 years behind and you could smoke wherever you wanted.” Continue reading

All the time “Clocks”

In an effort to offset the ennui and pessimism permeating from my last post, I thought I’d offer one of the finest examples of optimism I’ve yet to encounter: Coldplay’s “Clocks.” I’ve listed this track as my favorite song in a number of questionnaires and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I love this song so much that I’ve compiled a list of my favorite covers: Continue reading