Today marks the 40th anniversary of the release of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, a film celebrated in my book, Heavy Metal Movies. The movie is unrelenting, taboo-busting, rooted in pitch-black passions, brutally transformative and powered by high intensity equipment that makes a lot of noise. Chain Saw may well be the ultimate in heavy metal horror.
OK, I’ve been outed as a noise nut and it’s true. I am crazed by noise. I have to put my fingers in my ears when I’m on the street and a lorry passes, my whole insides turn liquid when the recycling bin men come by and tip boxes of glass into more glass. I can’t bear it.
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The tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right...
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The thing about new blooms is that they tend to bleed— / Those petals birthed / hugging close / that come warmer weather are tricked into jumping away...
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I spent a good part of my childhood at home staring outside my bedroom window, following the trail of planes approaching the nearby Paris airport in the sky from my banlieue. I envied the passengers...
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