Unreal's Search For Salvation
Unreal doesn't consider itself a likely candidate for salvation, but we happened to hear Patti Smith's "Dancing Barefoot" on the radio the other day and decided that if it ever does happen, we'll be on a dance floor. Of course, our Patti-inspired vision involves vast quantities of hallucinogens and maybe some ecstatic Sufi-like spinning.
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Then we heard about the Body Light Club, a Christian nightclub downtown, next door to the City Museum. Our heathenish heart all atremble, we called up Leonard Foxworth Jr., the club's owner, to find out how soon we could get saved.
Unreal: What makes the Body a Christian nightclub?
Leonard Foxworth Jr.: It's all Christian-based. It's non-alcoholic. We play all Christian music: rock & roll, rap, even Christian jazz. We invite everybody to come out and have fun, but you have to conform to our standards — no smoking or alcohol.
How did you come up with this idea?
I got faith thirteen years ago. I was feeling a void, coming out of the world. I got involved in Christian rap, but then I'd find myself at IHOP at 2 a.m. because there was nothing to do.
Hey, that happens to us, too!
So I decided to have a place where people could mingle and dance. We have food — not pancakes — and pool and darts and a lounge and live performances and a dance floor.
We've noticed that, in non-Christian clubs, things get a little, um, lascivious on the dance floor.
Everyone has a general understanding that you're not out there grinding. Christian rap has the heavy beat, but people listen to the words, which they don't do in another nightclub. In a sense, it would be like going to church and grinding, just total rebellion.
Do you serve fancy non-alcoholic cocktails?
We want to get into that.
What about Red Bull?
I tried to get set up with a distributor, but he never got back with me.
No Red Bull??? Unreal's hopes of nightclub salvation: Consider them dashed.
New Missouri Museum Literally Sucks
The other day, while you were busy with your life, the Vacuum Cleaner Museum celebrated its grand opening in St. James.
What's in such a museum, you inquire? Oh, how about "500 vacuums spanning a century of progress"?
Or how about some celeb models such as "the official vacuum cleaner of Air Force One and the childhood vacuum of Emmy-nominated actor James Earl Jones"?Much of the collection comes from Tom Gasko, the museum's curator and a national dean of vacuum-cleaner history and appreciation.Admission is free. So next time you're staggering down historic Route 66 after a long day at the winery, be careful. You might get sucked in — because it has vacuums.
Stray Poem Found
Unreal was cruising past Tower Grove Park when, at Gustine Avenue and Arsenal Street, what should we spy but a large poem along the roadside.
"Poem for South City"
The birds chirp serenity
and every third step I smell her on my breath
The park rangers hate us
We love what we hate so much
We kill for it
CAPITALISM WILL BURN
Terrorize Poetically
I LOVE YOU
Unreal once slept through a poetry workshop in summer school, so from our learned vantage point, we offer our analysis of this ode to south St. Louis. For starters, it's not that the poem is bad or predictable (it's both). What most concerns us is the pegboard by which the poet decided to broadcast his (or her?) message. With this poem there is now a hipster bard who no longer has a pegboard on which to hang his tools. And that's a touching sacrifice for the sake of public art, with the poet's tools scattered every which way. So, you know what, phantom hipster-poet with disorganized tools? We "LOVE YOU" too.
Unreal was gratified to see how powerfully the poem seemed to resonate among our readers. As Matt Picker wrote, "I have never in my life seen such a deeply profound statement on capitalism. This poet (read: sage) is probably better off remaining anonymous, because I'm honestly not sure St. Louis as a whole is able to cope with such an edgy proclamation. Truth be told, I'm a little shocked you even had the gall to post it. Oh shit, my brain just melted. Thanks a lot, the RFT.
