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Oly Talks Super Lips, Spirit Animals, and Karaoke as a Force For Good

Oly speaks from the heart about karaoke before co-hosting the debut night Super Lips tomorrow night at Lester’s.

THL: If you were stuck on a desert island with only one song to karaoke to, what song would it be and who would you do it with? No cheating and picking the original artist!

Oly: Something thats a challenge, a fast rap song that is totally unintelligible. i tend to mumble my way through the hard parts but being on desert island could allow me the time to do it right. now as far as with someone.. dave chapelle? we could do dead prez hip hop. although he’s probably way over that song by now. he is so funny.

THL: On a potentially related note, who or what is your karaoke spirit animal?

Oly: Peacock? they sing but its really scary. or maybe a cat, have you heard them in the middle of the night? what a pair of lungs those felines have!

THL: Is being drunk at karaoke actually required or is that a myth?

Oly: No drunkenness needed, ever. but when it combines its like fried chicken and waffles. who knew it could be so good?

THL: Finally, in 15 words or less, please sum up your thoughts on karaoke as a force for good in society.

Karaoke kills. don’t believe me? Here are 2 examples.

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Videos of today's Occupy Miami protest by Crassmonster

Videos by Crassmonster.

I was just looking for socks and they showed up.

One more after the jump.

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Occupy DC has unions and permits and a word on Occupy Austin

occupy dc

By Farrah Farley

Thanks to social media, and Democracy Now’s covereage of the NYC Occupy Wall Street and Occupy DC, I decided to take a “late lunch” from my federal job and walk on down to the Occupy DC rally on Wednesday to show my solidarity for the movement.

Here’s a rundown of what I learned:
Permits Occupy DC was just issued a permit for four months to stay in Freedom Plaza (on Pennsylvania Ave. and 14th St. ~ 2 blocks from the White House) as of Monday. About 100 campers’ tents are set up along with a First Aid tent, Media, and of course, “Food not Bombs” is there to provide nourishment for these dedicated citizens.

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Less Concept, More Action: Miami Art Dares with Venessa Monokian

venessa monokian chonga

Less Concept, More Action is a project by Misael Soto and Liz Tracy which dares Miami artists to do things that make them uncomfortable, but in a friendly way.

Artist Venessa Monokian is an even keel sort of gal and not an adventurous dresser, so we dared her to hussy up like a chonga and get a cafe con leche at Enriqueta’s. We asked her three questions first.

Please describe what you do in very few words.
As far as my artwork, I do photography, small sculptures, and stop animation. I’m also an adjunct professor at several local colleges and universities and my studio is at the Art Center on Lincoln Road.

How would you describe your personal style? Like what you’d wear on a typical day.
Pretty casual. T-shirt, jeans, sneakers. Nothing exciting. Pretty covered up.

What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done in public?
Probably the wildest thing I’ve ever done is gotten a coffee at Starbucks. I’m not an exhibitionist.

Until now…

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I got into my bed on a recent Wednesday afternoon with the Meat Smoking Weed with Jesus album playing on my computer link

meat

by Jason Handelsman

I got into bed on a recent Thursday afternoon while listening to the new release from local rock outfit, Meat. The title of their 11 minute debut is Smoking Weed with Jesus, and you can listen to the whole thing here. As the music played, I drifted off towards a blissful mid-afternoon power-nap, while a number of pleasant thoughts, relevant images, and soothing memories flashed through my brain:

When I was about 9 years old (1982), I found three big boxes of old vinyl records in my step mom’s garage: Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, Grand Funk Railroad, Steely Dan, Bee Gees, Grateful Dead, Neil Diamond, Elvis, Waylon Jennings, among a load of others. As a sparkling young lad, this was the first time that I had ever felt connected to something so marvelous. Rock and roll became my first love. I spent hours in that humid garage listening to those gorgeous albums with a big pair of headphones on my head. I couldn’t wait for the school bus to drop me off so I could dig through those boxes of dusty records, put that needle on the black vinyl, and boom!

I suddenly realized that this new Meat album would have fit perfectly into one of those boxes of vinyl classic rock records. Meat’s fuzzy sound is derivative of those great bands mentioned above; however, there is something modern… something truly Miami about it. Smoking Weed with Jesus is an instant non-vinyl-classic!

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Yaddyra Peralta's poems about Miami in response to images we dragged off the web

Miami poet Yaddyra Peralta is quite fantastic in more ways than just being able to write some tight shit about her hometown. Her work has appeared in Cent Journal: A Modern Anthology of Miami Poets and Tigertail Poetry Annual and she was the winner of the Abe’s Penny and O, Miami collaboration for her poems responding to Lee Materazzi’s photos. Because we’re big fans, we hit up Yaddyra and much like we did with Dave Landsberger sent her a few photos of Miami hotspots that we dragged off of Google images and bam, she wrote us three amazing little gems. Enjoy.

opa locka city hall

OPA LOCKA CITY HALL
O, gawdy and misdirected minarets,
like Brighton’s Pavilion planted
still to be a jewel. Still through
time a lodestone, drawing
each morning’s subsong in.

hialeah entrance

HIALEAH ENTRANCE #1 (LITTLE PUDDLES)
The arch stands balls out, all
wanna-be Coral Gables, as it welcomes
us to its network of canals
and factories. Oye!
when Amelia Earhart flew
away, did she know
what she was leaving?

hialeah expressway

HIALEAH ENTRACE #2 (STOLEN VEHICLE)
In Mom’s Chevy Cavalier we flew
right past you, looking for a direct
route to the Beach, thinking
you’d take us further into
the place we wanted to leave.

 

Brilliant drunk phone book entries: includes Beeeeeef Beeferton & Ashley I'm too drunk bro

george drunk phone 1

THL pal George gave us this magnificent and real list of iPhone entries he typed in his phone while very drunk. Enjoy these babies. They’re the tits.

Read the rest after the jump!

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Various accessories that might justify a rainy weather wardrobe

girl with yoga mat

There truly is no justifying my outfit today, but Amanda and I came up with a few accessories that might explain this look.

1. a yoga mat
2. a hospital bracelet
3. a sleeping bag
4. a bike helmet (with light still blinking from back pocket)
5. a SARS face mask
6. a boogie board
7. tissues
8. a dog leash

 

Dave Landsberger's poetic stance on Chicago-Miami sports and a flamingo

heat bulls

Dave Landsberger recently contributed poetry to complement photos for the hard to explain, subscription postcard magazine Abe’s Penny. Landsberger lived in Miami for three years before moving home to Chicago last year. According to him, “I miss my Miami friends, the ocean, and el Rey de las fritas.” He currently teaches English and literature at Harper College. Read more of his poems here after you read the ones below. He enjoys writing poems about sports. We like to read his poems about sports. We sent him several photos and he added one and so we have his poetic reaction to some tense Chicago-Miami sports games and a clip art of a flamingo.

heat bulls

ROBBINS & ENGLEWOOD
A Michael Jordan jersey is a white boy’s passport to the ghetto in Chicago.
Last week I got called a “face nigger”. Was it my beard? Who cares.
Chicken & fries & white bread & Flamin’ Hot Cheeto bags in the streets.

These blizzards combust you, cover you like white wicker baskets,
letting just enough sunlight slip in, so,
who cares, game’s on,

Bulls vs. Heat, who cares; always something to be proud about.
All famous black people come from Chicago,
The Harlem Renaissance 2: The Big Score.

marlins cubs

ACROSTIC
Be it a billy goat or an expansion team in teal,
Another reason will manifest from the prairie grass to contra.
Real Marlins fans exist; I’ve seen them Casino-style and cartwheel
To the scent of nacatamales, down and up three Kia Sephias,
Marrying the scent of Miami fall (live here two years, you’ll smell it too) outside the bastille
And bonkers of Whatever’s Paying Us Stadium. Cubbies, change your jerseys to aqua.
Name another blame: a farm animal, or yourselves?

Check out the other two after the jump.

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Bleeding Palm photos from Bonnie Prince Billy and Cairo Gang's 305 and 954 shows

will oldham bleeding palm

Here are some photos, a teaser, if you will, from both Radio-Active Records’ and Sweat records’ Bonnie Prince Billy, Cairo Gang, and Angel Olsen shows by the wonderful and brilliant Bleeding Palm. Their full and guaranteed to be amazing gallery will be up sometime next week. They’re beauty-ful and I love them.

Here’s my review.
Get excited, because a couple of them move.

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The Heat versus the Mavericks live blog madness!

The Heat Lightning writers and friends are live blogging the NBA Finals at 9 p.m. Please feel free to add your opinions, thoughts, and criticisms.

 

A Few Poems by Yaddyra Peralta

poetry friday

Yaddyra Peralta will be reading at O, Miami’s finale reading on April 30 at 7:00 p.m. at the New World Center. The Mexican poet Carla Faesler is opening for W.S. Merwin’s, and Yaddyra will be reading English translations of her Spanish poems onstage.

TWO POSTCARDS FROM MIAMI

one:

A centipede in the shower this morning! Oh, the translucent antennae leading this writhing intrusivness into my air. You would have marveled at the distance it traveled from the yard and through the kitchen “Such tenacity,” you would have said: four-inch body over twenty-five feet, a pilgrimage no matter how many legs.

two:

On our wall-too-wall carpets and ceramic tile, we forget the palimpsest we stand on, the ancient seabeds and broken arrowheads. The centipede is back, like a pulsing messenger from the dead. If you ever find one, forgo your first instinct to crush it. Gather it gently onto a newspaper or dustpan. Walk it back outside, feel yourself grow lighter with each subsequent step.

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A poem by Nick Vagnoni

more poetry

La Moon

Alone in La Moon
I ate sancocho de res,
—yuca, starchy green plantain, potato, and
a strap of brisket in a broth of cilantro
pulsed to a dark murk.

And on the side, between the shredded
salad and the turret of rice, a crescent
of fried cornmeal,
a moon-shaped arepa.

Outside, the smudge of a tropical depression
hangs over downtown Miami,
the illuminated roofs and penthouses
poking up into the low clouds
like immense tent-poles.

I want to tell the waitress
that the soup compliments the weather
but I cannot remember the word for weather,
so I say,
“con la lluvia, es perfecto,”
gesturing to the huge bowl in front of me.
“OK” she nods,
and walks away.

From the sky right now,
Miami must look like this soup—
gray-green,
the glowing dome of a potato
poking up through the greasy fog,
the moon, half eaten on a distant platter.

I trawl with my spoon,
whittle slivers of yuca and beef.

They have deep-fried the moon for me tonight,
draped rooftops in fog,
and set them on my tiny wooden table.

They must know how we love
to build things that reach into the clouds,
and how we love even more
to reach down into them.

 

Four poems by Lúcia Leão

poetry

having lunch with you

you may speak
your language
but the dancers
come with me
as we enter
the restaurant
hands apart
impossible to touch you
across the table
nobody would notice
except
the two of us
nobody would care
except
that we
don’t know
the borders
are too spicy
the Mexican food
on the table
our skin color
the shapes of our eyes
so deep
the formal lines
of your words
keeping me out
although
inside
I am speaking
my language
and the tongue
burns
with the red sauce
in which we dip
our smiles.

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Five must-haves for Miami friends

chris brown miami friends

I met my new friend Jerry Gutierrez at the Todd Terry party last month. Since then, he has electronically and endlessly entertained me with shithead texts, tweets, and Facebook messages. He recently moved here from NY, and wrote this list after his friend with a car didn’t want to drive him to Jimbo’s birthday party (uncool). He and a mystery person made some decisions on what Miami friends must have. Here it is, with a note on the bottom to me, Liz.

1. Friend with car that’s always down to go out and never asks you for gas money.

2. One of the ladies in Basketball Wives or Real House Wives of Miami.

3. Blogger

4. Porn star

5. Lesbian that isn’t emo or a bitch

So u can totally be number three unless you also have a car cuz that’s cool, too.

 

Four Poems by Jessica Machado

In honor of O, Miami, this big, long poetry month, we’re presenting a few local poets’ poems. Starting here are four by my wonderful and beautiful friend Jessica Machado.

SONETO OCULTO No. 4

Calladamente vas en mí viviendo
también vivo yo en ti calladamente.
Y mutuamente, siempre mutuamente,
por amor nos estamos rehuyendo.

Y, por amor, estamos recurriendo
a un pretexto casual, frecuentemente,
para encontrarnos, no tan casualmente
sino en complicidades reincidiendo.

Qué respetado amor, qué amor no siendo
más que una pública amistad presente,
en su ilegal presencia persistiendo.
Y así seguimos cotidianamente,
como en delito puro y fiel, viviendo
tú en mí, yo en ti, pero calladamente.

HIDDEN SONNET No. 4

Silently, in me you live.
I too live in you, silently.
Because of love, we flee,
mutually, always mutually.

And, for love, we resort frequently
to casual pretexts to meet, not so much casually
but in ever-lapsing complicity.

What esteemed love, what love,
no more than–in public–a platonic friendship,
persists despite its illicit presence.

And so we continue every day,
in sin pure and true, living
you in me, I in you, but silently.

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Submit your film about Mother Earth to the Rainforest Partnership and meet Richard Linklater

frog

by Farrah Farley

The Onion published How Bad For The Environment Can Throwing Away One Plastic Bottle Be? 30 Million People Wonder over a year ago. Yeah, it’s funny, but the message is one people should have been listening to. It sort of seems no one really cares about the pollution they create except for a handful of hippies and nonprofits (in Austin) and a few “green celebrities” out there concerned in between filming moneymakers.

If you fancy yourself an environmentalist, or, at the very least, want to do something to help others reduce their carbon footprint, consider submitting a short 30 second to 3 minute film for the Second Annual Films for the Forest Fest. FREE to enter, it’s run by the nonprofit Rainforest Partnership and it will be screened in Austin on June 16 in front of a huge audience and 3 well-respected judges: Elizabeth Avellán, Ed Begley Jr., Richard Linklater, and Paul Stekler.

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A poem by Pete Borrebach: Infrastructure

On the highway to Key West,
in front of a SPEED KILLS KEY DEER sign,
an actual key deer, its maw packed
with a sandspur-clover teratoma—

snakefish in the river of grass,
wood storks swallowing limestone gravel—

the key deer’s shadow
a key deer shape on the asphalt
next to the shape of the KEY DEER sign—

eleven lines stretched on their towers,
but there must be cables buried somewhere—

-Pete Borrebach

Don’t miss Pete’s craft talk “A Speculative Geometry of Lyricism” tonight with Spring Break at the Bas Fisher Invitational (180 NE 39th Street, suite 210) at 7 p.m. Download a reading packet here.

 

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