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The Gastronomical Orgasm in Anne Zouroudi’s Writing
An odyssey essential, if one is partial to Greek odysseys, is the writing of Anne Zouroudi. I wouldn’t have stumbled upon her work if it hadn’t been for a good ol’ independent bookstore (Crawford and Doyle) that actually stocks interesting books. I was sort of surprised I bought the book; it’s a detective series and I’m not partial to that genre of literature. But… that’s why independent book stores do their part.
Anne Zouroudi writes much like a poet, and she writes much like a poet about Greece. About its romantic landscapes, about its less romantic realities, its cultural nuances and, what I find most enjoyable, the divinity of its food (in there is also a detective story, but it’s subtle compared to the cultural landscape of Greece, at least to me…) Her books are a very well versed outsider’s intimate knowledge and perspective of Greece. Back to the food…. the detective of her series enjoys life, (what archetypal Greek doesn’t?). So we get to savor each an every one of his meals. His coffees, the wines he favors (complete with the varieties of grapes). The processed food clutter of the periptero (newstand)–it still makes your mouth water even though you know it’s junk food. Because it is a nostalgia for Greece that anyone torn away from the land (forgetting its annoyances) knows… It’s not like she’s writing pages about the salami and kopanisti cheese the multi-purpose storeman’s slicing for you (I mean the detective); it’s about how it falls onto the wax paper, how the storekeeper wraps the package up with an elastic band… it’s the banter that goes along with it… Sigh, it’s as if you’re there in the kafeneion with our portly detective just taking in life.
Ode to the writings of Zouroudi! An author that brings back memories of Greece, the modern, the mythical, the gastronomical… The detective story is enjoyable too!
For a complete selection of her series visit the British version of the website, though not it’s not always updated (I had to do some detective work of my own to find out her new novel was out). You can order her books from sellers like Alibris or Abe books- only a few of her books are available in US bookstores- the rest you can order from overseas.
The Eternal Robin Byrd
Have a basic cable TV question for you (those who are up at ungodly hours of the night or early morning). How on earth is Robin Byrd still on the air? The question doesn’t question the Queen’s throne of hosting the Sesame Street equivalent of sexual health for many of us growing up in the 80’s who were able to sneak a peak. C is for… Clitoris, of course! Do you know where your clitoris is? Here let me show you… And so on, goes her show, offering the same type of diversity as the innocent PBS counterpart. There is something for all tastes there: gender preferences, body images and fetishes. But my Lord, breast implants have come along way since the jugs you see on the show- two stiff orbs with as much space between them as the north and south poles. Brazilians (as in the haircut down south) have become the staple of today’s porn, but at Robin’s you’re sure to see a bush. Yet her shows continue to be aired, with a phone number to call into to boot (the original 970 number?). And the commercials (advertising hotlines and escort services) are the same ones from back then too. So I guess my question is, is this a cult classic? Is it supposed to appeal to that generation who grew up with it and still find those hairstyles and lack of airbrush and make-up titillating? I guess I could google it, but afraid 0f what else I’ll dredge up and’ll hijack my computer. She really means to teach you something, not just get you off. Ever see the musical orgy endings? How isn’t it Sesame Street? I’ll take a cookie, you little monster. With a tall glass of milk. She shows love to each and every one of her guests.
Lost Unicorn in the Heights
C-mixto submitted this photograph near Dyckman Street. It’s a poster looking for a Lost Unicorn, Unicornio Perdido… C-mixto, being a poet at heart and music fan, noticed it was printed on blue paper, and immediately wondered if the person who posted it is calling out for Silvio Rodriguez’s Unicornio. Ah C-mixto. Here are the lyrics in Spanish and English:
Super Nova

Where have all the comic stores gone?
What’s a girl-nerd to do? Some people take to booze, some drugs, some a little bit of both, others chocolate… Comic book stores used to offer a paradise of fantasy for those who need a little something more than the life of an urban odyssey. You’d save your allowance, or blow your measly first-job paycheck on X-Men, X-Force and Excalibur, crossing over to DC territory only for a Supergirl or Wonder Woman. Inside the pages of a comic book, bodies are perfect, men are heroes, you can sore through the sky and toast people who are bad. But now… now where are all the comic book stores? Big Apple? All that’s left of you are the markings of of where your bricks were ripped away to give way for the building of a new race of condos on the Upper West Side. Oh, the agony of seeing what is left of you advertised on the streets like a billboard: lines and lines of scratches against the building where you were once nestled, like a trail of scratches from bloodied fingernails.
I suppose the comic book stores have went the way of all small mom and pop shops, the predecessors of the plight of independent bookstores… No, don’t comfort me with the selection at Barnes and Nobles or Borders… I don’t even care for the comic book store near Union Square (if it’s still there) not because I have anything against it… it’s just not my hood.
Ode to the comic book store! A recently rejected-by-a-literary-agent- nerd-girl’s strip club, drug den, and escapist paradise.
When the Holy (Salsa) Spirit Leaves You… And Returns

Bianca and Nova have been in a bit of a salsa rut this past month. Not so much in sucking, but low in the spirit that beckons you to the dance floor and takes over your body with a partner. Which reminds me of Star Trek, The Next Generation Episode 166 when Doctor Crusher was regularly visited by an alien ghost that entered her body, and well, did delightful things to her from the inside out. But I digress slightly off topic.
The Holy Salsa Spirit had left us and I was prepared to lodge a complaint in the lost and found department of salsa dancing or go to a salsa church, consult the salsa priest, or perhaps consider giving up some of it (to an addict that means trimming down from three classes to one, plus going out once a week instead of maybe three), and whine here on this blog.
BUT THE HOLY SALSA SPIRIT HATH RETURNED. When the Holy (Salsa) Spirit Leaves You… And Returns – continue reading …
Summer Book Rec: How to Be Idle
I am reposting something from last year because it’s summer (in the northern hemisphere) and your minds are more easily prone to indoctrination by this manifesto. Free your soul!

“I have a dream. It is called love, anarchy, freedom. It is called being idle.”
-Tom Hodgkinson
How to make a Frappe
For those who haven’t been paying attention. The crack of all coffees.
Darwinian Salsa
A little over a year ago, two unknowing souls embarked upon a journey into a universe whose name they thought was salsa. To the surprise of the two naive girls, that universe turned out to be prism of multi-verses. An innocent journey of couple’s dancing suddenly became an adventure down a rabbit hole.
Some universes are ruled by 1 dimension. The one that Bianca and Nova stumbled upon was on-2. They are still trying to figure out if its a hospitable place for them, or if they have been tricked into a heartless black hole.
Salsa on-2 seems to follow some type of weird evolutionary process. It’s evident as you pass by the different planets, with their abundance of species (The Topsy-Turveys, the Fred Astaires, etc, etc). But Bianca and Nova have recently stumbled upon something startling, something that goes a little further than “salsa characters”. It’s Darwinian Salsa. And there exists the Nietzschean “Superman”. Darwinian Salsa – continue reading …