I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book. - Groucho Marx


by Casey Dewey
Sept. 2, 2014
They say the devil appeared one night at a crossroads in Mississippi. Meeting him there was an ambitious young blues musician named Robert Johnson, who showed up with his rusty ‘n’ trusty guitar in hand. The devil took the guitar, looked at it for quite some time, tuned it, then proceeded to play a few (hot) licks before handing it back to Johnson. At that point, Johnson’s soul had been exchanged for a mastering of the instrument and the know-how to kick down the door of the music world and burst forth with a new form of the blues. This blues begat rock ‘n’ roll, and for a short while in the 1950s, the devil was riding high and corrupting the morals of our youth with this new music style. This was before God sent down a holy angel warrior named Pat Boone to combat the devil and his many demons rocking around the clock. Popular lore says the devil takes many forms, and before his many ins ‘n’ outs with the Good Book, oldies revues and talk show appearances, the devil’s name was Little Richard...
Casey Dewey resides in Tucson, Arizona. He's a film writer for the Tucson Weekly and host of "Deep Red Radio" , a radio show dedicated to film soundtracks on 91.3 KXCI FM. He enjoys tacos, cervezas and garlic in everything. He wakes up every morning to a fresh pot of black coffee and at least two hours of Dragnet on TV.

by Ryk McIntyre
Sept. 1, 2014
This 1983 Michael Mann-directed cult film, while not a success at the time of its release (in fact, I believe it lost a lot of money) can be best described as coming from a school of film I like to call “Why Nazis Should Avoid Archeology” – a genre that includes the first and third Indiana Jones movies, among others. It is a dim and very grey movie, which can be both attributed to bad lighting and the fact the the Nazis had outlawed color for most of the time they were in power...

Ryk McIntyre is a Multi-Hyphen sort of person. Poet, critic, performer, workshop facilitator and co-host at both GotPoetry! Live (Providence) and Cantab Lounge (Cambridge,MA). He's been living in RI for the past 6 years, with his wife and daughter. Ryk has performed his work at Boston's ICA, NYC's New School, Portsmouth, NH's Music Hall and Lollapalooza, to name just a few. He has toured the US, performing in countless Poetry open mics and festivals.  He turned down Allen Ginsburg once.

by Jake Goldman
Sept. 1, 2014
I came across Don Hertzfeldt much in the same way countless others have: in college, having plucked a file called REJECTED_HILARIOUS.wmv from my dorm’s intranet at a friend’s urging. At the time, I was depressed as hell, in the midst of experiencing my first of many bouts with existentialism. I’d switched majors twice already and was eyeing a third, maybe anthropology? Or, forest management? Or, fuck. Additionally, I was way too anxious of a person to party all the time (or, really, ever), so most of my free nights were filled with hours of isolated dorm time, maybe some reading but mostly clicking things listlessly on my ancient desktop computer...

Jake Goldman is a writer and a teacher. He lives in New Haven, Connecticut.  Occasionally he writes songs.  If you are so inclined, check out Internetdogfist.com for words and Otsego.Bandcamp.com for music.

by Nathaniel Ketcham
Aug. 31, 2014
The film Cherry 2000 puts forth the bold, startling statement that it is better for a man to be a female superhero’s sidekick than to be in love with a submissive “female” sex robot. I came into the movie unsure if this was the case. Whenever confronted with the necessity of choosing one as better or more important than the other I, like most people, had no strong feelings either way. “To each their own,” I thought. Well, no longer! Cherry 2000 has me completely convinced. I’m saying it loud and proud…it is MUCH better to be the sidekick of a female superhero!
Nathan Ketcham is a near recluse currently hiding in Detroit, Michigan. He spends way too much time in front of the TV treating very trashy horror films very, very seriously. Until someone pays for his PhD in Media Studies/Cultural Criticism (feel free to recommend a program to him) or he overcomes his laziness long enough to finish a book length, scholarly analysis of art films that failed, you can find some of his less-than-serious horror film suggestions and impromptu writing at his annually expanding Halloween blog: https://30daysofhorror.wordpress.com.

by Chris Martin
Aug. 29, 2014
Martial arts movies are the drum solos of the seventh art. Time honored classics of the genre like Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon begin and end with the technical performance of the protagonist’s body. They act as documentaries to an ability that are framed around a fictional narrative. Because of this, many martial art films, much like drum solos, can come off as dull, numbing, and masturbatory displays for those not entirely invested in the performance itself. Despite the fact thatRiki-Oh: The Story of Ricky works itself around the most typical narrative thread for a martial arts film, (i.e. a handsome, physically skilled protagonist enters a despotic system and punches everything until there is nothing left to punch,) Ricky nor his physical abilities are the stars of the film. The stars of Riki-Oh are the victims, both of the villains and of Ricky, and the focus of the action is the boundless amounts of gore distributed to those unfortunate enough to end up in this absurd future-prison...
Christopher Martin recently graduated from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst with a degree in English and a specialization in Film Studies. Shockingly, he is currently underemployed. In his free time Chris likes to read old science fiction novels, enjoy what little nightlife Western Massachusetts has to offer, and watch as many films as possible. He also spends too much time on Tumblr.