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Black Lamb


Now in its 14th year of publication, this magazine was created to offer the discerning reader a stimulating selection of excellent original writing. Black Lamb Review is a literate rather than a literary publication. Regular columns by writers in a variety of geographic locations and vocations are supplemented by features, reviews, articles on books and authors, and a selection of “departments,” including an acerbic advice column and a lamb recipe.


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Archive for January, 2012

January 2012 in Black Lamb

Volume 10, Number 1 — January 2012

January 1st, 2012

Ninth Anniversary Issue

In our Ninth Anniversary Issue, editor Terry Ross ponders things he’s done for nine years in a row, and things he hasn’t. In California dreaming, Elizabeth Fournier rides a bike around San Francisco with a guy in spandex. Patsy Tompkins reflects on her forty years in New York City in Becoming a New Yorker. In Anniversary schmalz, Ed Goldberg goes round and round with the number nine.

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Posted by: The Editors
Category: 9th Anniversary Issue, Month summaries | Link to this Entry

The anniversary schmalz

January 1st, 2012


Number 9, Number 9, Number 9….
— “Revolution 9,” The Beatles, 1968

This is the ninth anniversary of the Black Lamb monthly, and congratulations to Terry Ross for his perseverance, and for reading and enjoying my brain droppings for these years. I have relished the soapbox for my views on everything from the moribund condition of the literary novel, to the state of pop music in twenty-first-century America, to why George Romero’s zombie movies transcend their own genre.

I have received mostly positive comments, even from people who may disagree with me. Recently, Terry printed a dyspeptic rant from someone who found my politics to be, oh, bullshit, I guess. It was a great piece of verbal psychodrama and talking-point bile, and did nothing but reinforce everything I wrote.

(Just to set the record straight, I do not own a bumper-sticker festooned Volvo, but a Ford hybrid with no stickers. Unlike, say, Sarah Palin, everything I believe can’t be reduced to a slogan. And, does he still deny that Rick Perry is a preening ass and moral leper? I am not a red, although there’s nothing wrong with that, but I am deeply pink. I also take pleasure in the fact that the writer lives in Berkeley, and every day for him must be a vista of hell. Nyuk nyuk nyuk.)

Nine is a fraught number. In its printed form, it is not unlike a spermatozoa, or a stylized embryo. Human gestation lasts nine months. One is high on Cloud 9, or in the Ninth Circle of Dante’s Inferno. The pop geniuses Lieber and Stoller knew that the real-deal love potion was Number 9, and the literary lion Kurt Vonnegut made the apocalyptic substance that destroyed the earth Ice-nine. There used to be nine planets. (Sorry, Pluto.)

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Posted by: The Editors
Category: 9th Anniversary Issue, Goldberg | Link to this Entry


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