Furious George
The Borg Is No Match For This Naughty Monkey
Often renowned for their intelligent use of tools, one marauding Capuchin fancied himself a Luddite
Chaotic scenes of pursuit and capture were faked by AI.
With rising apprehensions about the grip of technocracy tightening upon our creaturely society, it was only a matter of time before defenders of the natural order launched a primal assault on the machines. But which targets would be struck first, and who would mount the early attacks? Would data centers be bombed by eco-terrorists? Would corporate headquarters in Silicon Valley be raided by cadres of unshaven anarchists? In the looming war of carbon-based life forms on our silicon would-be masters, such violent possibilities abounded — until this year, in January, when at last the fated battle was joined in a most unlikely spot and by a most unlikely rebel.
Dateline Morristown, Tennessee, a sleepy Appalachian town of 30,000 people — and one courageous Capuchin monkey determined to exact vengeance on the Borg. “Furious George,” as this nameless simian vandal seems destined to be called by future …
Forgotten Cartoons from All Fifty States
Alabama — Southern Man – Hippie genius Neil Young is on a mission to assist the State of Alabama in becoming less racist. Instead of being welcomed with open arms, the helpful musician is scorned by Governor George Wallace and by the rock band Lynyrd Skynyrd, who write a scorching hot anthem telling Young to shove it, and identify a new species called “Southern Man” who doesn’t want Neil Young around anyhow. However, it is the Canadian hippie who is fated to enjoy the last laugh: After George Wallace is crippled from the waist down by an assassin’s bullet and Skynyrd band members Ronnie Van Zant and Steve Gaines are killed in a plane crash, Neil Young is the last guy left standing, and he and Southern Man become best friends.
Alaska — Arctic Jerry – Aging polar bear comedians sit on an iceberg and make jokes about nothing, in the …
Mad About Madi Diaz
A fatal optimist finds a home in Nashville
Plucks intimate songs from her journals and shapes them with her friend Steph, who cowrote Sabrina Carpenter’s ‘Espresso’
Begins every morning with a Blink-182 song
Sinking into a corner chair of Cafe Roze, a longstanding Nashville spot known for avocado toast and quinoa bowls, Madi Diaz is reflecting on her years of touring, which, at this point, feel like a blur. She’s just finished up an 18-show run across the States, and in a few months, she’ll turn back around and head off to Europe. These long tours are a fact of life; Diaz is 39 and shows no sign of slowing down. She orders black coffee and a side of bacon, what she calls her “cowboy breakfast.”
Touring reconfigures the body and mind like no other experience. It disconcerts one’s working hours, one’s relationship to travel, one’s understanding of time and place. Days are spent in Sprinter vans, tour buses, or chartered planes; nights are spent waiting in makeshift dressing rooms for a few hours onstage. A physically taxing affair, it becomes nearly impossible to decompress while doing the same routine …
