UNLV Retrospective Theses & Dissertations 1-1-2003 Andrew
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UNLV Retrospective Theses & Dissertations 1-1-2003 Crit Andrew Kiraly University of Nevada, Las Vegas Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalscholarship.unlv.edu/rtds Repository Citation Kiraly, Andrew, "Crit" (2003). UNLV Retrospective Theses & Dissertations. 1599. http://dx.doi.org/10.25669/spws-aa08 This Thesis is protected by copyright and/or related rights. It has been brought to you by Digital Scholarship@UNLV with permission from the rights-holder(s). You are free to use this Thesis in any way that is permitted by the copyright and related rights legislation that applies to your use. For other uses you need to obtain permission from the rights-holder(s) directly, unless additional rights are indicated by a Creative Commons license in the record and/ or on the work itself. This Thesis has been accepted for inclusion in UNLV Retrospective Theses & Dissertations by an authorized administrator of Digital Scholarship@UNLV. For more information, please contact [email protected]. CRIT by Andrew Kiraly Bachelor of English University of Nevada, Las Vegas 1998 A thesis submitted in partial Mfdlment of the requirements for the Master of Fine Arts Degree in Creative Writing Department of English Liberal Arts College Graduate College University of Nevada, Las Vegas December 2003 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. UMI Number: 1417776 Copyright 2004 by Kiraly, Andrew All rights reserved. INFORMATION TO USERS The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. Broken or indistinct print, colored or poor quality illustrations and photographs, print bleed-through, substandard margins, and improper alignment can adversely affect reproduction. In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if unauthorized copyright material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion. UMI UMI Microform 1417776 Copyright 2004 by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code. ProQuest Information and Learning Company 300 North Zeeb Road P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Dissertation Approval UNTV The Graduate College University of Nevada, Las Vegas November 25 _2003 The Dissertation prepared by Gregory Paul Halopoff Entitled Development of Computer Science Online and Preliminary Validation of its Efficacy as an Instructional Environment is approved in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Curriculum and Instruction Examination Committee Chair Dean of the Graduate College Examiriation Committee M e her Examination Committee Member Graduate College Faculty Representative 11 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ABSTRACT Crit by Andrew Kiraly Dr. Richard Wiley, Examination Committee Chair Professor of English University of Nevada, Las Vegas This creative thesis, a long work of fiction, is about a rock critic, Gabe Sack, who writes for a Los Angeles-based music magazine. He is tired of his job and decides to quit. However, his boss gives him one final assignment: he must track down an obscure lounge singer and write a profile of him. With his friends Staley and Darcy in tow, Gabe drives to Las Vegas. During the trip, he reflects on his life, his attitude, and his relationships with others. He senses that his job, which requires him to criticize the work of others, has had negative effects on his personality. During the course of his trip and his search for the elusive lounge singer, Gabe attempts to confront this truth and become a better person, with mixed results. ill Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. TABLE OF CONTENTS ABSTRACT........................................................................................................................... iii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS..................................................................................................... v CHAPTER 1 .......................................................................................................................... 1 CHAPTER 2 ........................................................................................................................ 16 CHAPTER 3........................................................................................................................... 35 CHAPTER 4 .......................................................................................................................... 60 CHAPTER 5 .......................................................................................................................... 74 CHAPTER 6 .......................................................................................................................... 79 CHAPTER 7.......................................................................................................................... 96 CHAPTER 8 ...................................................................................................................... 123 CHAPTER 9 ...................................................................................................................... 157 IV Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The author would like to thank the following for their support and advice: Richard Wiley, Douglas Unger, Claudia Keelan, Matt Wray, Lynnette Curtis, Tod Goldberg, Mike Prevatt, Chris King, Newt Briggs and, most of all, Ashley Moll. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER 1 I was brain-deep in scotch and squinting to resolve the quadruplets on stage into Steve and Jeff McDonald of Redd Kross—truly, a shell of a shell of their former selves—when I decided to quit my job. Sure, I'd been considering it for months, but only as a fantasy, a perverse mental luxury, a giddy what-if scenario that shivers with the import of the Life-Changing Event. Tonight, however. This was it. My veins were boiling. The Whisky was infested with hipeoise. Something about that Friday night crowd of aging dipsters in their Spock haircuts and stovepipe jeans—pushing 40, pushing strollers, pushing vinyl like some quaint tribal religion—watching with that disastrously polite, shushing respect of museum visitors. Something about those erstwhile thrashers from Hawthorne, Redd Kross, who once penned thrilling paeans to Linda Blair and Charles Manson, plodding through a set in a way that a more charitable roek critic might characterize asrepresenting a seasoned approach to their oeuvre or somesuch bullshit. I was quitting, outta here, and Redd Kross—prancing now to a flat-footed rendition of "Sunshine Day"—was really going to get it in next week's issue. They were decked in boutique Silver Lake slummer shit no doubt carted out of some downtown Salvation Army and marked up 400 percent; stringy hair that looked like it was auditioning for comb-over stunt work. Third World-chie frames fashionably underfed. Everything was overripe, and one fuming grumphole named Gabe Sack 1 Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. {thaaaaaat's me) was just the perfect rotting cherry to jam on top in order to send everything over the edge from mortifying to morbid, from corny to the worst kind of camp: the kind that manifests itself against anyone’s will and to no one's delight. Argh. Slap a handful of Xanax to my mouth and elbow-peck me in the neck, would you? But for now, the hieroglyphics on my notepad were starting to settle down from their scotch-induced dance, so I ventured to drip some more venom on the page about the McDonald brothers betraying the very movement that had spawned them, mucking around in this nelly "post-punk" pabulum, and not even for something delicious and dishonorable like money; they were marooned on some indie label run out of some guy's spare bedroom in Modesto and would, much to my satisfaction at least, live out their days essentially hawking merch with novelty sets featuring the occasionalTeen Babes from Monsanto track. I wrote "MotherFUCK!" It seemed the most fitting form of punctuation. Kate arrived at my end of the bar, ignoring the din of requests for Red Bull and vodka by the poor, parched rag-store refugees. She put her pretty face in her hands, her elbows on the bar, and said she didn't know what I looked more: drunk or unhappy. It was a testament to her grape-tightening cuteness that I couldn't choke up a witty retort. So I just told her I was a little bit of both, dear, and did she know any cures for unhappy, because I certainly had no problem with being drunk. "I've got a cure," she half-yelled over the crowd noise, the music. "My place for coffee. You look like you can use a good kick in the head, soldier." The grin that spilled across my face couldn't even be hampered by the fact that Redd Kross then launched into— what?—a cover of "Hot Child in the City." Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. "I hope I don't look that pitiful," I said. "Do I look that pitiful?" Kate pretended to wipe a