Juxtapose Spike Lee's ill-advised post 911 foray of 25th Hour with tonight's House of Cunt performance and you will see some similarities. An awkward attempt to reconcile past sins and an equally awkward attempt to fit world affairs into satire.
The pica crowd was imaginably well-connected (I stood next to Todd Haynes and talked briefly) but pretty clueless as to why, exactly, they were there.
Portland's hipster set is curious, ever looking to get laid or coked-up but also amible for an artistic venture of the spirit.
Sadly, they are all white, but oh well.... it is a culture in and of itself.
As I age I am distanced from it and yet, as I age, am wholly a part are is Walt Curtis, Greg Sage and any other of the elder saints.
Uberhaus is legend, sure, but what is not?
This was a sad night.