Mouth bent to starboard, gauge yaw, pitch, and yowl

So I was meaning to say, I actually got in to see Joanna Newsom on Friday night. I guess I'd been waiting until I had something more profound to say, but it's not here yet. It was just a really good show. She's amazing, and her new stuff is a tour de force. And it's in a completely different thematic space from her earlier stuff, which implies an interesting new analysis of The Milk-Eyed Mender. I'll just say that it takes some serious goddamn stones to make your first album a concept album, and more power to her for it.

I'm also reading Mélusine, and it's true what people say: Mildmay is the shit. To get a feel for his narration, picture an adaptation of The Maltese Falcon set in a grittier, less-glib Ankh-Morpork.

And then, of course, our second narrator provides the incredibly traumatic gay rape scenes, PTSD, and terrifying schizophrenic delusions. We'll, uh, see how I do with that.