“I like to imagine that ‘Like a G6’ is what they play in the seventh ascension of the Galaxy Brain, a tesseract where linear time ceases to exist and the past and future become one.”
A rotating guest column in which writers reexamine critically unacclaimed works of art
In my mid-twenties, most Fridays after work, I would frequent Asian-themed nights at clubs like White Rabbit in the Lower East Side, mostly because the drinks were cheap and the girl I had a crush on was going to be there. The dance floor was always a little sticky, and it wasn’t unusual to go home at 4 a.m. with someone’s rogue eyelash smushed into your shoe.


