Reduced, due to track-bound circumstances, to onscreen recreations, Kroc's desertified shoot-em-up still managed to rattle a few thick-shelled academic noggins. Cultural hegemony is the assumption of want. |
I can't recall which was better, the pretty colors or the
butt-jarring break beats (especially after sitting for so long). |
Wu-Ching Welles brings the full-monty of coal-mining cleverness
into the fore, arguing that only oppression brings out the Hardy
in us, whether musically or liter(ari)ly. How he got Timbaland
to produce is beyond me, though the lack of specificity in his
lyrics did sometimes make his meaning obscure. |
A lush lawn and less water? A bug-free monoculture that's kind to Mother Earth? Nah. Infernal internal inconsistencies combust our notions of suburban social consciousness: it's just a white-wash, green only with cash. |
Rommel
McDonald: the Mercurial Triumphalism of Branding, a Tactical
Tank-fight
L.L.
Triptophan: the Resurgence of Hallucinogenic Rap, a Rave in
Three Sets
Terrence
Trent of D'Urbavilles: No-Brow Culture Meets the Neo-Suburban
North-Country Mining Town, a Pop Album
The
Euburban Scene: the Cul-de-Sac Crowd Goes Green, a Mystification