Our most widely ignored signs

or, why do we even try?

yeah, right

but there are books in front of me

ha! nice try, George

and the most ignored (and brightest) sign in the store. Yes, there's a second floor.

HEAVY

If the flood of events that Green Apple is hosting this month doesn't satiate you by the beginning of October, I've got one final suggestion that will hopefully exhaust you for a while until we can catch up with your break-neck pace. On October second Peter Beste, the acclaimed photographer behind the 2008 release (and Christmastime bestseller) True Norwegian Black Metal, will be attending a reception and signing copies of his book at Articulated Gallery in the Haight. The show itself promises to be a brutal showcase of many of the finer points of the Norwegian Black Metal lifestyle, a surreal and often times gratifying sight to behold even if it may be through the window of another's camera lens.

While I've heard a couple of critics assault the photograph subjects in libel as "posers" who "weren't there" (simply not true in the case of the latter accusation), I still encourage people to check out the show while keeping in mind a couple of questions. A) "What is it that spawns curious subcultures such as these?" And B) "Where is the line drawn between the emulation of a movement and the real thing?" The answers are difficult to provide in any particular context, but curiously applicable from subject to subject. Take the attention off of Norwegian Black Metal for a moment and change the focus to say, I don't know, Amazon (dot) com. What spawns a curious subculture such as a subculture of censorship and 'blandification'? And where is the line drawn between an intentionally lacking lit-on-kindle selection and flat out libricide?

Okay... I'm really reaching here. Check out the cool black metal photo show, don't shop on Amazon, and come buy the new Christian Mistress LP from Green Apple's annex. I should have mentioned that earlier. It slays.

Poem of the Week by Gustaf Sobin

Happy Monday. The poem of the week returns with one from Gustaf Sobin's Collected Poems (Talisman House, 2010).

MADRIGAL


with you
what I know of

the world
opens, has

that of
swelling, wave as

it tatters, a
ruled line, against

reefs, a
breadth that

still
spreading, breaks

in-
to dull tokens, spent

petals, what the
poem

would
close on, hold

in its
swift tissues, those

blown
ex-

panses,
shadows as

if
pouring, light

from your
fingers, your

blue, un-
loosened sash.