Cillian’s Bounty: Toronto International Film Festival

By Less Lee Moore

This piece originally appeared on the The CillianSite.com on September 14.

For our review of Perrier’s Bounty, go here.

Toronto, Ontario is a big city. And as befits such a place, it has its share of big buildings, big festivals, and sometimes, big celebrities. They descend on the city every year for the Toronto International Film Festival, and for those two weeks, one cannot escape news coverage of which films are playing, what parties are being held, who was seen where (and with who), and what they said/did/were wearing.

For film buffs and celebrity spotters, it’s a dream come true. Truth be told, I’m one of the former not the latter. . . with one exception. Cillian Murphy has been my favorite actor for several years now, and for several of those years, one of his films has premiered at the TIFF.
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A “Very” Exclusive interview with Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

By Danny R. Phillips

Authors’ Note: This piece of fiction is based on a dream I had and is a product of my twisted imagination. Feel free to email me with thoughts relating to this or any of my other work but please, do not state the obvious. I know Hunter Thompson is dead and therefore he is extremely difficult to reach for comment.

On February 20, 2005 the great Doctor of Gonzo journalism, Hunter Stockton Thompson spent the day with his son Juan and his grandson Willie, and after giving Juan some cherished family heirlooms, Hunter put a .44 Magnum to his 67 year-old-head and well, let’s say “checked out of the hotel.”
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Tom Verlaine Is My White Rabbit

By Chelsea Spear

The last week of June 2008 found me in New York City. I’d been trying to escape the obligations and responsibilities that awaited me in my hometown: the whoosh I still heard in my ears as a birthday with a zero on the end passed me by, and the dozens of hours I suddenly had free. My life was about to change, and I had no idea what to do next. So far I’d attempted to distract myself with a free concert at which two of my favorite bands played, and a stage play written by a playwright and musician whose work I found intriguing, if not always successful. The poignancy and significance and melancholy of these works had not merely sated me, but left my brain feeling bloated and heavy and unable to even process the idealistic notes of hope they sounded.
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The Expert

By Christian Lipski

A while back, my wife and I went to see Enuff Z’Nuff at the Coach House in San Juan Capistrano. That sounds like an strange and exotic location to see a band, but it’s actually just a 250-person-capacity bar in a small town in Orange County. Appearances can be deceiving.
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