The Agenda

Lhude sing cuccu!

It's that time of year again when I start to fantasize about moving to Alaska (Weather Underground is forecasting highs in Anchorage today in the “upper 50s to mid 60s,” which is far more tolerable than the stinking sweating purgatory of Providence today). If you love summer as much as I do, the Rhode Island Department of Environmental Management wants you to know they feel your pain. If you need protection from the “unhealthy air quality” afflicting Southern New England like a divine punishment for something-or-other, head to the Da Vinci Center in the North End for some emergency shelter.

(As disgusting as this weather is, though, it's still no justification for closing public schools like those wimps in Pawtucket. Someone tell School Superintendent Hans W. Dellith to man the hell up.)

A Companion Primer for Summering Smooth with Swagger

A special to The Agenda by Jay-Z

[Note: This article originally appeared in The Agenda #18]

What's good, family? It's your boy, H-to-the-Izzo. I ran into my man P Breezy at Martha Stewart's annual spring key party in Southampton, and he put me on to his plans for THE SUMMER OF SMOOTH©. Since I "retired" from the game (You call running Def Jam Records retirement?), I've had a lot of time to enjoy the smoother side of life, but you know Young Hova needs to flip it with a little more flavor than your average man. When you see me and Beyonce (Holla at your boy, B!) roll up in the Maybach, stepping out looking immaculate, you know shit is on and popping. It ain't just smooth-it's smoove.

A special to the agenda by Preston Ozymandias Bradthird the Third, outside consultant on all matters smooth and awesome

[Note: This article first appeared in The Agenda #18]

I just stepped out onto my veranda. I just opened my
one-of-a-kind, platinum G4 PowerBook. I just had Derwood mix me a fantastic gin
and tonic, with a gin so good that the bottle promises at least three Croatian
juniper farmers died in the production process, per bottle, while
safeguarding their crops from Slobodan Milosevic's ethnic cleansers. And I'll
tell you, it might have been borne of bloodshed, but you spritz that shit up
with a squirt of lime, and you will instantly be swept into the easy, breezy,
summer spirit of sailing and self-indulgence.