It’s nice to have comrades who are also neighbors. When you get the call to mob, you know that if you rise to task the evening will turn out well. I got a text one night––there was a book party and reading of Pittsburgh poets at Moonstone Arts and Ras would be one of the Philly artists on the bill.
Since I’ve met Ras, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of listening to them read from a body of work ranging from erotic underage life on the internet to the aftermath of alien abduction. Ras often reads my favorite pieces at the Laser Life, but to date I’m the only person who ever seems to bring a recording device and my phone usually runs out of recording space or glitches itself into brick-mode before I can catch her. This is a shame because her style of reading in deadpan monotone with the occasional twist of inflection is a delicious counterpart to the underwhelmed tales of mundane tech-saturated life and adolescent sexual appetite aided by the shapeless hands of Net lurkers.
For me, Ras manages to name things from a past I forget, which only seemed to exist in fragments of chatroom logged memories until her words made them real again.
NOTE: Audio comes in at 0:04!