Lately, I’ve been pausing in porticos, haunted by a particular line from a particular song. The ditty in question, “Boom Boom Pow,” was released by the redoubtable Black Eyed Peas more than a year ago, yet certain peculiarities of its lyrical cadences still manage to wash up upon the shores of my mind, as clear and startlingly whole as twisted lengths of beach glass.
So GOTH MINISTER ran away crying. Then he decided to wander the streets, looking for a person who knew internet. But no one wanted to help GOTH MINISTER, because he was too GOTH, and also TOO MINISTER.