The daily digest of Twin Cities culture | Secrets of the City

After days of agonizing over much hard work lost to a dead hard drive. After weeks of researching digital news media for an upcoming story. After months glued to my laptop for your reading pleasure. I took refuge last night in a friend's home, where I can always turn for the simplest bohemian pleasures. Five to seven bodies huddled in a dim-lit room strumming guitars and plucking banjos, blowing blues harps and crafting verse.

But even the most sacred of spaces has been infiltrated by the net, even the doggerel.