Prose

“The American Idol Judges Review My Recent Karaoke Performance,” by Harrison Scott Key

Apr 28th, 2010 | By

RANDY JACKSON: Yo, dog, yo. When I heard you would be singing the Godfather of Soul, I was like, What?! But “Sex Machine” is dope, y’all. If you do that song, you got to bring it, yo. And guess what? You slayed it! You got a little pitchy, especially when you started changing the words up and singing about trying to conceive a child with your wife.



“Film 401 – Robotic Pitfalls in Contemporary Cinema,” by Gabe Durham

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

Week 1 – The Matrix

One thing my EATR students have over the 19-year-olds I used to teach: attention span. I flipped the lights on after the movie and all 400 of them were alert, humming softly, their eyes glowing red with what I’m told is attention.

I began with what I thought was a softball question: “What did the robots do wrong in this film?”



“My Favorite Thing,” by Phoebe Nir

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

“The thing is,” I said, “I’m pretty sure I’m overreacting.”

“Maybe,” said the mailman.

“No, but really,” I said. “Like, I’m almost certain that I’m overreacting.”



“An Infinite Amount of Monkeys,” by Josh Peterson

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

When the monkeys showed up at my door with a card that read, “An infinite amount of monkeys—For Dean,” my brain spun in my head like a rotisserie chicken. If there was such a thing as an infinite amount of monkeys, then every home, dance club, nursing home, pizza joint, ocean and planetoid would be filled with monkeys. In fact, logically, the monkeys should inhabit the very spot where I stood. I grabbed the card, worried that the infinite monkeys would rapidly deplete our resources and their decaying carcasses would litter our streets.



“City Hall,” by Chris Tarry

Apr 20th, 2010 | By

Assuming that love actually did take place—that love between two City Hall employees (one from Sewage and Disposable Income Studies, the other from the much-less-heralded Bikes and Bike Rack Division), was indeed a manifestation of actual love, of real love, of throw-your-arms-around-it-and-cry kind of love, and not a by-product of lonely-office, interdepartmental ballyhoo (or flirting, as it’s commonly known)—then the current variables, social media studies, and other weights and measures can be correctly applied. That is, of course, assuming one takes into consideration the length of the courtship, the male’s intent when initiating said courtship, and the female’s acceptance of awkward and uncomfortable silences surrounding said attempt. See also: The Water Cooler And Its Socioeconomic Ramifications.