Minor Threats

Some fine lines: "Those pants look great on you. But they'd look even better on the floor next to my bed." "Do you have any Irish in you? Woodya like some?" Woodya. Huh-huh. "The word of the day is `legs.' Let's go home and spread the word."

`Crumb'
Sat., Sept. 28, 7:30 & 10 p.m.
Yale Med School Society
Harkness Auditorium
What to make of a diminished thing? What to do with an extra string? Do like Maxon does and put one end in your mouth and swallow it. Give it three days to work its way through (it's still hanging out of your mouth on the first). It purifies one's design, if design governs in a thing so small.

Jerk Fest
Fri., Sept. 27, 7 p.m. to ?
Morse
admission: $3/plate
Sponsored by the Caribbean Club

Minor Threats feels like such a jerk. Jean is such a nice person, but I can't help giggling during her lectures, which read--and I do mean read--like a first stab at a 125 paper. Though I must admit there is a certain poetry to her locution. Note her frequent use of the pregnant pause: are we standing on the threshold of very tragical mirth, or did we almost lose our place? "I think I want to go outside now..."--we move to the edges of our seats, just waiting for the train of her thought to derail--"...to Athens." Damn. The enjambed line saves her every time. You may scoff; we relish.

Magnesium drag queens haunt the bars in dowdy frocks. Except when Isaac's there and the boy with the large, stiff hair walks in and orders a gin, his hair lit with candlelight, telling a story of its own. "Mamet. You're Mamet, aren't you?" I said. Our eyes almost met. But then he just walked by, on to the bathroom, leaving me, the trout to his glimmering girl, a tongue hanging in the desert dust. And then I ordered another gin.

--C.C. Certainly and CeCe Thrasher thank you for visiting Minor Threats online. And Juliana Smithee sends her love to Linda Gray.