At a most fundamental level, our computers are simple and not smart at all. They can only do one, solid thing; make a determination as to whether something is true or false. That's all a computer has ever been able to do.

Then maybe this isn't for you. We know it's hard. Everything about it is harder than you think. Getting motivated, shipping, documentation...

One may first be struck by the medium. What are these? Frescoes? Faux wall fragments? One is tempted to touch them. Are they heavy?

My grandfather Romy Kanfield used to run a little snack bar next to the Ohio Theater on Lagrange Street. I gather he sold chips and sandwiches, hot dogs and ice cream.

Apparently, armageddon is exactly in sight. Violence, chaos and general mayhem of astonishing proportions are just beneath the thin, fragile veneer of civilization. Yes, the end is nigh. (Again.)

Here's a snappy little EP from archetypical New York hipster Lissy Trullie that's getting a lot of traction since its release last month. Fresh from the SXSW circus, Trullie and company are currently squared-off in Europe supporting the disc and UK single "Boy Boy".

It's out of my hands. The book is now on the road to parts and adventures unknown. Bon Voyage. Next up are Mykola Bilokonsky and Ryan Stolte-Sawa, then on to iarnuocon. (We're batting it around the state for a bit. Any other Buckeyes?)

Here we have the latest evolutionary flux from precisely one half of Akron, Ohio's bluesy musclemen, The Black Keys.

Who is Beverly McIver? She is a 47 year old painter and professor of art at Arizona State University at Tempe. She holds a BA, an MFA, is a Guggenheim and Radcliffe Fellow and has garnered tens of thousands of dollars in grant money.

We have the book in hand. It's 70 pages of 9 x 12 inches, Strathmore premium recycled, 60 lb., acid-free paper. We're going to start casting a wider net for players, so if you have good candidates please send them this way.

"Are there any Canadians here tonight?", the instructor asks the group of 30 or so people gathered on the ice. You are at the Bowling Green State University Ice Arena for your friend's 50th birthday party. The sport of curling has been planned for tonight's entertainment.

Here we go. Genesis of this is over here, if you are not familiar. In essence this is a traveling book, accumulating art and writing along the way. It is a form of The Exquisite Corpse.

I'm no huge collector of autographs, but I have a few. And since I started designing and screen printing gig posters, I've fattened up the collection and am batting 1.000 on having all the bands sign the posters I've made for them. Usually in person.

What the hell has gotten into U2? They haven't sounded this vital since Germany. No Line On The Horizon is an urgent, thoughtful disc that plays well both loud and repeatedly, strength and wisdom being the predominant lyrical and aural themes.

Make your own posters, stencils and resources using our exciting resizeable biohazard symbol. Available in a range of delicious flavours.

In January, 2009, hard copies of the document Redesigning America's Future were distributed to every member of Congress, The Office of the President of the United States and select heads of various federal programs.

Can't wait for Sufjan Stevens' next record in The Fifty States Project? Then feast your ears on The Welcome Wagon's Welcome to the Welcome Wagon. The indie darling's imprimatur is indelibly stamped all over this beguiling release from the Asthmatic Kitty record label.

Thus boldly spake the artist Paul Cézanne. While his friends were roaming the countryside inventing impressionism, Cézanne remained somewhat realistically rooted in nature, wanting to capture "the green odor" of the fields of Provence.

Last Saturday night, The Dixie Hummingbirds brought their warm jubilation to an otherwise dark and bleak Ohio midwinter. Seemed a good time to huddle up for some gospel harmony as the cold and snow are getting a bit oppressive around here.

For the better part of three decades, I've given Chrissie Hynde the benefit of the doubt. Fellow Ohioan. Sassy. Rock and roll guitar playing chick singer. Pretty cool.

This is the image that turned Jesus into an American idol. It is The Head of Christ by Warner Sallman, a painting reproduced half a billion times and the very genesis of today's rank commodification of the Man from Galilee.

Dear Miss Lee, I have just finished reading your remarkable book. I should thank you, but am reasonably certain you did not write it for me. Though grateful for it's appearance, I do wish I had read it sooner when my daughters were younger.

Designers, artists, pretenders to the craft take heed! Herein are a brace of links to activities and trials most pleasurable to the visually inclined.

A red touchtone telephone — just left of the drum kit — illuminated by a small, occasionally pulsing red spotlight was about the only hint of political pugnacity on display last night when Neil Young and His Electric Band rolled into The Palace of Auburn Hills.

I seem to be drawn to grids and repetition. Ten years ago this season, what began as a larky experiment ended up a popular and worthwhile artistic journey.