Hobart, that rad rad print journal, has tossed more zoom into their online doings. About a month ago, they switched to daily content, some of that same old goodness like fiction and interviews, with new woot-worthy stuff like poetry, food and drink reviews, and movie reviews. A month into this thing, I’m really stoked about how it has expanded, where it is heading. Maybe you will be too?!
My favorite stuff so far:
The important thing is that Pete, the kid who gave me the game, pronounced robots like the name “Robitz” might be pronounced, if it were a name, and I just hated him for it, and we weren’t friends after that as far as I know.
Two Poems by Ben Clark and Colin Winnette
I only think to ask you about dying because I saw the reflected light
as something else. I can tell you would say to carve this new strange light into trains
crossing slow and close enough to shake the dead dusty moths
on the ledge of my window.
A massive plaster moon rotates above the rooftop bar, casting a milky glow over my fellow patrons. One by one their orders are placed. A vanilla bean porter with toasted nut highlights. A zwickel-style lager. A Cascade dry-hopped American pale ale. A cleanly malted and sharply hopped Czech-inspired pilsner. A cloudy hefeweizen with a hint of coriander and a tangerine wedge. When it’s my turn, however, I settle into my stool, look the bartender dead in the eyes, and ask for a good ol’ cool-my-throat, warm-my-insides, and thicken-my-wallet Pabst Blue Ribbon. Soon it flows smooth as a gentle breeze over my tongue, and, in this most idyllic of moments, I realize that after much deliberation and fifteen years of field testing, I am ready to officially and heartily recommend Pabst Blue Ribbon as perfectly fit for human consumption.
So, there you go, to check it out! Enjoy the wonderful updates (DAILY) Hobart is now offering.
P.S. Vouched Books superstarter Christopher has a Bourbon column at Hobart now as well. Just so you know, pal!