Jeepers Creepers: Updates, updates, updates!

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The new POP is up now featuring an essay about the Fleet Foxes by Jared White.  Read it here.

Thanks again to Jared for being so thorough and so thoughtful.  As usual, the page may take a minute to load, so maybe go get a cup of coffee or something while you wait.

In other news, I have recently “discovered” google reader.  I say “discovered” to convey more or less that it finally makes sense to me.  And now that I *get* it, I’m obsessed with it.  So now I never miss a Bike Snob NYC post.

seal-of-disapproval-1 Ha ha.  Seal of disapproval.  Wakka wakka.

Also,  The Project Papers is kind of an amazing archive hosted by The Poetry Project.  I’ve started at the beginning and print out one or two a day to bring to the gym with me, which is proving to be a very accessible way for me to get some poem-time in while I’m getting my sweating-time.  But really, I’ve been super impressed with what’s there, unsurprisingly so I suppose.

And, I keep chugging along with my Jack Spicer.

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It’s slow going, which is not an indication of my interest in the work.  I’m just moving slowly through it is all.  I have actually been finding that I am way more interested in reading poetry lately.    Though I write poems, I’ve always considered myself more of a fiction reader.  Strange I guess.  But lately not so much.  I’ve been a pretty terrible fiction reader and a quasi-successful poetry reader.  In other geekily-related news, I now am a subscription holder to Poets & Writers.  Does starting to read more poetry gossip than music gossip mean I am getting old?

That being said, here’s the latest of the latest of my listening habits:

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Fever Ray (Also, I am going to go on record here and say that I really no longer get any pleasure from listening to music via Myspace.  It used to be such a cool way to check out new music and I am so embarrassed by how surprised I am that advertisers have ruined it.)

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Oingo Boingo (I’d like to thank my friend Kyle for this one.  Many solo dance parties have taken place since being biten by the boingo bug.)

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Telekinesis (I heart earnest, indie rock.)

Until we meet again.