The End of the Line. Sort Of.

Maybe it’s the hot Texas sun. Maybe it’s the lack of solid employment. Maybe it’s a desire to get with some of that chaos that seems to be a little en vogue at the moment. Whatever it is, the editorial staff here at Um has decided to switch things up a bit: As of Friday, we threw our lot in with the fine folks over at Unfit. And that’s where our loyal readers will be able to soak in the glory of our amazing internet journalism from now on (we promise more regular posts).

Or something.

But we won’t be here anymore and though some of you may find that to be, well…, we assure you that it’s all for the best.

Signing off,

Um.

More Cross-Posting

Hi there.

Check out our Texas Observer debut. It’s about nukes!

MetaBlog

Having relocated to our wonderfully so-not-Boston digs, the editorial staff here at Um finds itself confronted with a more… gerunded notion of harbor. The reason? This thing.

Among our honored guests is the esteemed Aaron Leitko, who finds himself SouthBying for the fine folks at the Washington City Paper. Or trying to. And we find ourselves blogging about him.

Look at that.

Mind Blown.

Okay. So we here at Um may be a little late to pick-up on this whole the Daily Show is just as good as any other news program thing. Still, after watching Mr. Stewart so viciously de-pants Jim Cramer, we feel that  it is our duty to direct our loyal readers to see for themselves just how far ahead of the pack his program is. Seriously folks. We live in some fucked-up times.

Really. We’re Almost Ready to Get Back At It.

For real. I mean, it’s been like months since we’ve found the time to tend to our loyal readers. And we’re still really sorry. But you’ll have to deal–for at least another week.

Here. To tide you over.

More Cross-Posting

Okay. One day soon, the editorial staff here at Um will return to creating original content. We promise. For now, though, we ask you to bear with us as we–you know–get our shit together.

Kanin on Lily Allen

Kanin on Austin’s B-Side Entertainment

Um: Trying to Get Our Shit Together

The editorial staff here at Um thinks it’s the warm Texas weather. At least, that’s the best we can offer by way of explaining our lack of promised BLITZKRIEG.

Anyway. Until we actually do get our shit together, we’d like to offer you a peek at what’s been (sort of) paying the bills. Which is to say that below, you’ll find links to a couple of recently published freelance pieces. Enjoy!

Criterion’s version of Lars vn Trier’s Europa

Bryan Burroughs’ The Big Rich

With any luck, we’ll have more of these for you soon–and maybe a few fresh Um posts to go with ‘em.

More Surrealist Stuff

We here at Um have been forced to conduct business in a borrowed space. And until our return to more stable digs (around the first of this year) we’ll be relying on internet access which can be…intermittent.

This presents us with a couple of problems. For starters, because there is no such thing as analog access when it comes to logging on to this here publication, we are left to the whim of stolen WiFi to determine when we might be able to deliver portions of our ongoing BLITZKRIEG OF POSTS. Sorry for that.

Worse, should our editorial staff feel the need to watch streaming video (we very much enjoy that Frontline web site), we are similarly hamstrung. So, when our friends over at the Guardian offered up an e-version of an “excruciating” video ” featuring Barney the Scottish terrier doing his annual decorating of the White House,” we weren’t surprised that we couldn’t take in the horror.

Of course, we were deeply dissapointed. But don’t let our misfourtune keep you from taking in this amazingness. Go watch. And, sniffle, report back.

Um Returns…WITH A SURREALIST GAME

You may be under the impression that the editorial staff here at Um has decided to pack things in. That our, uh…two month hiatus was something more perminent. That we left without saying goodbye.

Well, yr wrong. We’ve been busy, see. And though we have no doubt that you, loyal readers, are feeling neglected and generally less informed about the state of the world–or at least the state of our world–we hope that we will be able to make it up to you with…

THE COMING BLITZKRIEG OF POSTS.

So get ready. To whet yr appetite, we offer you what’s below, straight off our Facebook page. Lazy? Maybe. But we have no doubt that you will consider yrselves rewarded nonetheless.

With that, we present: THE EXQUISITE CORPSING OF OUR THESIS. A-hem (with minor edits for grammar):

As the world descended into the Great Depression, Cuba’s sugar industry suffered—and the “importance of [the stuff] in Cuban-U.S. relations diminished” (Chomsky et. al. 244). A visiting Cuban diplomat, when asked for comment in Miami this week, opined, “In America, first you get the sugar, then you get the power, then you get the women.”Consequently, the ability of Cuban citizens to make this dish suffered greatly, leading to a traumatic psychological depression, thus coining the phrase “Great Depression.”

If one is to understand the intent of his comments, one would have to ask what is he trying to get across when he says the word sugar. If you accept the traditional meaning vis a vie- western colonialism. Then you would understand power to mean imperialism. You would have to conclude the modern Marxist maxim: chicks dig western imperialist cowboys.

“That’s not all chicks dig,” she said with a smirk, while coyly snatching the made-in-China cowboy hat from his imperialist head. “We also dig rich, chocolaty Ovaltine! Available wherever fine powdered-beverage products are sold!”

So what, if anything are we supposed to take away from these encounters? If, as we all accept, all Cuban diplomats are CIA compromised chick hungry crazies. And their handlers are label obsessed rich creamy malted chocolate consumers. Or do we deconstruct what we think we know using the language of popular culture is he CIA compromised or is he whack? Is she label obsessed or Sara Jessica Parker or a muppet schilling a powdered drink. We must console ourselves with the knowing, comforting face of Mandy Potemkin and all he has done for the Cuban people with his portrayal of Che in Evita.

We here at Um would like to think that you enjoyed that. And that y’ll check back with us tomorrow.

Yo: Read My Buddy’s Stuff

The editorial staff here at Um has, recently, found itself writing way too much (or at least more than it might normally do) about itself –we suppose that this is what we get when we sign ourselves up for a class called “Writing Your Memoir.”

Anyway.

This has prompted a not-insignificant amount of reflection about events that we like to think of as our glory days–many of which took place in the offices of the Washington City Paper. We will spare you, our loyal readers, the boring details but, as you might imagine, we owe much of whatever scribulor (yup, we ain’t to proud to coin) talent we have to the fine people who (yr gonna have to hunt for that one) we worked with (we decided to give those last two double linkage ’cause of the relative bunk-edness offered by the first redirect) at that publication.

Cherkis, we’ve found, played a very leading role in our development. If you, loyal readers would like to know why, please click yrself on over to this. It’s a classic Cherkensian hang out piece–maybe his last. Don’t fuck up. Read it.