So there’s an old joke you know… two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of ’em says, “Boy, the food at this place is really terrible.” The other one says, “Yeah, I know; and such small portions.” Well, that’s essentially how we feel about Black Friday – full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it’s all over much too quickly.
Well maybe Mr Allen hasn’t had enough, but I have. I’m tired of like turning on the news in this, our Second Year of the Christian Apocalypse, with the Four Horsemen-Death, Famine, War, and Conquest. Where every Friday is Black. But there are always bright spots. Great beauty is often created in the face of tragedy. The new Spiritualized album (always), the Tyrannical Opiate Blues of Cherry, the infinite perversions of Insecure Men, the wonder of youth and young womanhood in Courtney, Melody, our very own Soccer Mom. 2019 isn’t looking so bad either with Tyrant Books teaming up with Iggy Pop, the return of Royal Trux, re-mastered X albums and plenty more.
The lights are on, the store is open. Come on in.
“On the surface, it looks as if Black Friday is a win-win deal for both retailers and customers, when in actual fact, it’s a lose-lose situation for both sides: less profit and inferior quality goods.” – Urban Dictionary
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