I recently dug out my CDs and started reripping them all. I’ve found a few forgotten gems in there, but few hit harder for me than the beautifully concise Professor Murder Rides the Subway EP. There was a period of time in the mid-aughts in NYC where it seemed like every indie band wanted you to let loose, dance like no one was watching, and just have some damn fun. Few embodied that as much as New York dance punk band Professor Murder.

LCD Soundsystem and The Rapture were the biggest names of the dance punk revival. But there were also bands like Rahim, Liars, Dan Deacon, and countless lesser-known acts on DFA that you could see on any given weekend around NYC. And I spent a lot of time in those venues, shamelessly dancing my ass off to all of them.

There’s something about Professor Murder’s specific blend of cheap synth blasts, shouted vocal chants, busy syncopated percussion, and throbbing bass that perfectly captures the vibe of the NYC music scene circa 2006. At their heart, the tracks on the 16-minute EP are built around a simple disco stomp (save for the brief a cappella of “Pedigree”). They’re dressed up with cowbell and other tuned percussion elements to add complexity. But they’re never allowed to disrupt the groove.

While some of their contemporaries like LCD Soundsystem were chasing bigger, more melodic textures, Professor Murder trafficked in stripped-back arrangements where, arguably, the drums are the lead instrument. While there are hooks and melodies to grab on to, like the fuzzy bass on “Camron’s New Color (Part 3)”, they’re always a little quieter in the mix.

The EP is bookended with two songs that are basically the Platonic ideal of 2000’s dance punk: “Champion” and “Free Stress Test.” If there was any justice in the world, the latter would have catapulted the band to at least Rapture levels of success. I dare you to not at least nod your head along to the beat.

Professor Murder Rides the Subway is available on Bandcamp and most major streaming services, including Apple Music, YouTube Music, Spotify, Deezer, and Qobuz.

After funding struggles and a name change, the Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope has been successfully launched. It will now make a three-month, one-million-mile journey to its orbit at the second Sun-Earth Lagrange point (L2) beyond the Moon.

From this vantage point, Roman will conduct an unprecedented survey of the universe. Its field of view is 100 times larger than Hubble’s and, according to NASA, it can survey the sky 1,000 times faster using its 300-megapixel infrared camera. Roman also has a Coronagraph system that can block and mask glare from stars, allowing it to directly image exoplanets, even smaller, older, and colder planets orbiting close to their stars.

Roman will also conduct detailed 3D scans to help map the distribution of dark matter and narrow down the potential candidates for its makeup. Using the same 3D scans and gravitational lensing measurements, Roman will attempt to map how dark energy shaped the evolution of the universe.

Nicky Fox, associate administrator for the Science Mission Directorate at NASA, said in a press release that “Roman will be a discovery machine that will bring us closer than ever before to answering humanity’s most profound questions about our cosmic history.”

As backlash grows over Flock’s AI surveillance cameras, Texas Governor Greg Abbott has frozen state spending on them. The move came just ahead of the publication of a Texas Tribune investigation that revealed the state spent over $30 million on Flock cameras. That money was primarily raised by tacking a $1 fee onto insurance policies, allegedly to help fight catalytic converter theft.

Flock cameras have increasingly drawn ire from across the political spectrum as they’ve become the subject of privacy concerns. There have been multiple incidents of officers being placed on leave or criminally charged for misusing Flock systems, including at least six in Texas alone. The company has also come under scrutiny for its data-sharing, the placement of some of its cameras near playgrounds, its own employees’ access to video feeds, unsecured video feeds, and its ham-fisted attempts to avoid transparency.

In recent months, cities around the country have been canceling their contracts with Flock, including many in Texas. Abbott’s Democratic opponent in the race for governor, Gina Hinojosa, has criticized him for expanding use of the cameras in the state. And Republican representative Keith Self recently posted on Instagram that, “From Flock cameras to kill switches, we will NOT surrender our Fourth Amendment rights to the growing surveillance state.” Cheering on the destruction of Flock cameras has even become a unifying pastime on the internet.

I used to be an avid hiker and would try to go backpacking a few times a year. I always dreamed of thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail, but life kind of got in the way. (Turns out jobs, wives, and children aren’t thrilled with the idea of you disappearing for three months.) But I’ve been longing to reconnect with my love of the outdoors and just recently took my kids on their first camping trip. So I discovered A Trail Tale at a really opportune time. It’s an interactive trail journal created by Andy Moliski with help from his brothers Adam and Alex.

The various segments of the trail are rendered in beautiful pixel art reminiscent of a ’90s Sierra point-and-click adventure. Alex recorded an equally gorgeous original score that combines nature sounds, acoustic guitar, strings, and even what sounds like clarinet.

As you click through each day, you’re greeted with information about landmarks and a game-like UI that is partially inspired by titles like Oregon Trail. (Spoiler: nobody dies of dysentery in this one.) Clicking on Andy unfurls a menu of icons that offer details about the journey, his mental state, and even bits of poetry. There are even little icons for things that impact his fortitude and morale meters, like inclement weather or picturesque scenery.

It’s insanely easy to just get lost in Andy’s journey for hours. And it’s making me wonder if I should get back out there and start tackling some more of the AT myself.

Jane Schoenbrun’s latest film, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, is making a splash in theaters right now. So it seems like the perfect time to revisit their first film, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair. I fell in love with this film when I first saw it at Sundance in 2021. 

We are immediately introduced to our protagonist, Casey, as she engages in the World’s Fair Challenge, a sort of ARG creepypasta meets ice bucket challenge. There’s a creepy mantra, some bloodletting, and a mysterious video — basically a speedrun of horror movie tropes. But having them all delivered by this young girl alone in her room who just stares directly into her webcam the whole time is unsettling. And I actually physically recoiled when she jabbed herself repeatedly with a pin to draw blood. 

The idea is that people perform the ritual and then they’re supposed to change in some sort of nebulous way. It’s set up as some sort of “game” where people are supposed to report their symptoms, as they turn into plastic or their guts and become Tetris pieces.

Ultimately, World’s Fair is a coming-of-age story about a lonely young girl. She’s never shown talking to kids her own age. Her father is never seen, only heard, and does nothing but yell. She desperately attempts to connect with others by uploading videos documenting the changes she experiences after performing the challenge. 

Importantly, unlike many other coming-of-age films, World’s Fair isn’t about Casey’s sexual awakening and avoids sexualizing her entirely. Instead, it’s about her search for belonging in an extremely online world.

Basically the only other character to get any screen time is JLB, a lonely middle-aged man who claims Casey is in danger. The relationship between JLB and Casey adds another layer of unease to the film, which already blends horror elements with uncomfortably intimate glimpses into the life of a young girl. The whole thing has a voyeuristic quality. It’s never explicitly stated, but it certainly seems like JLB is attempting to groom the vulnerable Casey.

The movie stews in its uncomfortable ambiguity. And that’s part of what makes it great. It may not reach the surreal or campy heights of I Saw the TV Glow or Camp Miasma, but it’s a rare indie cinema original that uses body horror tropes in new and interesting ways.

We’re All Going to the World’s Fair is available to stream on Criterion Channel, Kanopy, and Hoopla.