118 Slammed with rewrites and write-throughs, I asked Rebecca Schoenkopf to write her own contents entry. “Sweetie,” I says, “be a dove and write me a line or two for contents about Communist Frau.” To which she replies, “Fuck you.” You’re on your own.
10 A few years ago, Don Bren failed to stop Steve Lowery from writing a story some people read about his illegitimate love child. In this issue, Bren fails to stop Lowery from writing about how Bren may have stopped the LA Times from writing something nobody would have read about Bren. Nick Schou is still so mad at Tony Rackauckas’ press flack Susan Schroeder that he writes another nasty article about her boss. R. Scott Moxley examines a case in which a self-described straight guy has sex with a gay guy, tortures and murders him for cash, confesses—and then tells a jury he’s innocent—but more important, he’s not gay. Alex Brant-Zawadzski wrestles with bad waves at Trestles. Gustavo Arellano? Bupkis.
20 The real real real really real got-to-be-real real-till-it-kills mix for the all-mixed-up show The O.C., which skipped over all the bands we proudly include here to make soundtracks full of car-commercial bait from Portland. There are some songs in this world that evoke feelings, some that evoke place and time, and some that evoke rich white people drinking and getting in catty slapfights—we picked about three of each for our accompanying CD (note: CD not included with issue) and for our latest Feedback issue, which much like last time (“28 BANDS THAT COULD DEVISE A SANER FOREIGN POLICY!”) must take upon itself the thankless task of correcting the mistakes of a stupid world. Dear The O.C.: here are the real bands from the OC.
32 Ella Taylor credits Reese Witherspoon with making Walk the Line not just another musician biopic. Scott Foundas discovers you don’t have to be a kid to have Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire scare the beejesus out of you. Greg Stacy says seeing Stand by Me on the big screen beats post-Thanksgiving-dinner TV viewing.
41 Gustavo Arellano reviews a barbecue place run by Tim DeCinces, son of the former big leaguer. Then he goes to a great Persian market where they serve great Persian ice cream. We think.
44 Joel Beers explains how and why Vanguard Theatre has closed. Cornel Bonca wishes Kurt Vonnegut would stop beating Mark Twain’s dead horse and write a decent book. Justin Edward Coffey—three names—finds Swiss artist Fabrice Gygi making porn for the paranoid: good stuff. And Chris Ziegler realizes we need Angela Davis now more than ever.
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