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

I absolutely loves me some Facebook. And I know what you’re thinking: What the hell is Todd Smith, the Spazz Dad, doing on Facebook? Isn’t he the guy with the Vagina Eye (Chop It Off) and the overactive colon? You are totally right. I have about as much right of being on the hip social networking website as I do in joining the Harlem Globetrotters. But so be it. I’m logged on and Facebookin’ the hell out of things.

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.