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A really rich life
Bruce Rutledge
August 22, 2020

We are launching an environmental imprint
Bruce Rutledge
August 3, 2020

Announcing our autobiographical novel writing contest
Bruce Rutledge
July 24, 2020

Discover Nikkei reviews Persimmon and Frog
Bruce Rutledge
May 13, 2020

For Ellis
David Rutledge
April 9, 2020

A Review of The Italian Barrel, 1240 Decatur
David Rutledge
March 30, 2020

Report from the French Quarter
David Rutledge
March 25, 2020

A Vida Count of Our Very Own
Tracy Wang
October 25, 2017

Bookshelves: the Ideal, the DIY, and the Real Life
Emmaline Cotter
June 5, 2017

Eggnog, Hot Cider, Mulled Wine, and What Else?
Jin Chang
December 15, 2016

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NEWS

TexMextern Reviews: Reviews with a Zest!
TexMex Richards
2 June, 2015

TexMex Richards is the latest addition to the Chin Music Press team. He is a local reviewer, lover, philosopher, existentialist, and a foodie. Here is the first installment in his (hopefully) weekly series “TexMextern Reviews: Reviews with a Zest!” where he gives his unique thoughts on a variety of works from Chin Music’s Catalogue.

 

Otaku Spaces

by Patrick W. Galabraith

Photographs by Andoniki Christodoulou

 

Otaku Spaces

 A girl. Is she sleeping? Or is she deep in thought, thinking of luxuries and the ever present state of the bourgeois that she can’t suppress? Ever lost in this hyper-caffeinated millennial age, amidst the saturated pop culture throne which she sits upon, she thinks about existential thoughts:

 

Japan. Lost in Translation. Sofia… Coppola.

 

All words associated with the inner workings of the mystique. Mystique which is the Otaku: a transcendental ride into the unknown. With excerpts written with a tangy wit that leaves your eyes sour from all the juicy exposition and pictures that pop out at you, grab you with a reassured firmness like a lover would when they would take your hand and guide you to the movies:

 

Two tickets. Matinee. Furious 7. Hold the butter on the popcorn, please.

 

 

Lizard Telepathy, Fox Telepathy

by Yoshinori Henguchi

 

Ball. Cone. Gray. A shade of Green. When my mind tries to grasp at these high concepts of abstractions that Yoshinori’s poetry aims at, I am transported to a world of unadulterated bliss, where the girls swing sweetly about prickly cacti and the dogs skip along to the tune of a cat’s whimper.

 

When I read these high conceptuals, I want to go to a bar and drink fine liquor and find truth in the bartender’s, tried yet strong, old yet young, voice where he states: “I’m cutting you off.”

 

But where are we cut off in this intersection of life? Are we cut off when we throw all the chimichangas at the nubile cats that hang out in our backyard?. Or are we cut off at our 8th grade school dance? Where you dance too heartily with the girl you love, shaking your hips a little too much in those tight corduroy pants that you purchased at Value Village (the very same pants that your mom said “you look very dashing in”) and Mrs. Marshall taps you on the shoulder lightly and says

 

“I’m going to have to ask you to stop dancing, son”

But why must we, Mrs. Marshall? Why?

 

 

Subduction

by Todd Shimoda

Designed by L.J.C. Shimoda

 

Image of Subduction

 

It’s one of those novels that grabs you at the get go. No not from the first line, but from it’s cover. I do not need to asses the author’s writing to realize the 100% purity of the book’s soul. Through its translucent shrink wrap, I peer at the circle figure which is that very soul. The soul that is that of a female.

 

The soul that says, “I love you, TexMex Richards. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. And yes, I’ll read and critique that five hundred page fan fiction about Obama and McCain, but it will be utterly pointless.”

 

“Why?” I say gaspingly because I’m so severely shocked.  

“Because all that I’ll say as I read every sentence will be ‘You’re a great writer and I love you’”.

I love you too, Lucy….

 

Shiro: Wit, Wisdom and Recipes from a Sushi Pioneer

by Shiro Kashiba

Photographs by Ann Norton

 

 

I’m not drawn by sushi. No, nor the colorful fish that lie on the bed of rice and swim so colorfully across the page. No, not the notions of friendship in the upper right hand corner either. I’m drawn to the picture of a satisfied man in the lower left hand corner of the cover. He seems to be a man of intellect and knowledge. Someone who could probably tell me why Lucy will never call me back!  Ah, it probably means I have to send her more of my beautiful and florid poetry for her. Ah! I know of a great title to begin with! “You’re a Beautiful (but I don’t need James Blunt to tell me that.)”

 

Last of the Red Hot Poppas

by Jason Berry

Image of Last Of The Red Hot Poppas

I hope that I was the last “Red Hot Poppa” for her. I hope that all the other poppas she dated  were “Green Mild Poppas” or “Bland Uninteresting Poppas” or maybe “The Eh, Why Not Poppa?” She’ll never have a “Hot Poppa” like me again. I’m one spicy appetizer dish from Chili’s that doesn’t even consider using a side of ranch. No, I use Chipotle Mayo.



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