The v. v. darkling cabaret of Patti Plinko and her Boy, whom I just saw in Edinburgh! Truly this is a lady who zharez my appreziation of the terminal zigil. HerSpace rocks (and, like, slits, gases etc. - I'm not cool) but the footage really can't capture the convulsive suicidal charisma of her live show.
Somebody recuperate these dangerous freaks!
Mittens off, I am renewing civic virtue in the webosphere with a ZECOND RECOMMENDATION WITHIN A ZINGLE POST: World War Z, by Max Brooks, author of the apalling Zombie Survival Guide. Z is done as a collection of fragments, and it gives the genre a syringe of potent & up-to-date social & political criticism. You know, like the bit in that film where they're all in the mall, and the zombies are there. I should like the audio tapes for Zhristmas, sort it out amongst yourselves.
