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According to legend, The Grindup was an up-and-coming St. Louis rapper who spread the word about his work by driving thegrindup.com up and down the city streets while his friends partied in the back. One day they must have partied too hard, because the van ended up at a police auction, where my sister acquired it. She plastered the back with Catholic radio bumper stickers, which was the final insult, because if you’ve ever listened to Catholic radio then you know the flow is awful and the beats are not remotely tasty. Not only can you not dance to it, but it makes you want to lie down on the
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Sex would probably have helped, but the only thing I was having sex with then was the intolerable sadness of the human condition, which sucked so much in bed. It was always playing the Requiem Mass when we were doing it, and its D was very minor indeed.
The twinge you are feeling right now is the twinge of wondering whether I am really right-thinking, whether I am really on the right side when it comes to this subject. I put that twinge in because I sometimes feel it myself. But after all that, you must understand I had to leave right-thinkingness behind.
