Naming a band is an act of concentrated creative expression. Square Pig in a Round Hole exists to reward five favorite band names each week. Winners are (usually) listed alphabetically. Selection is wholly unscientific and subject to whim, with a bias toward wordplay, humor, and local flavor. In most cases, I won’t know anything about the bands at the time of selection. Thanks to the Seattle Times club listings for abundant source material!
It may seem like the rain will never end, spring will never come, and everything keeps getting worse. But! We had a sunny day last week, hyacinths are blooming, and daffodil sightings have been reported. On top of that, there is still music to make and hear, and band names to celebrate. For example:
A seasonal character who has overstayed his welcome; always old, nearly expired. (Bonus: the bandleader is also associated with past honoree Trampled by Turtles, of whom I wrote on September 8, 2012: I love this image, because of the slow speed. Anything heavy enough to do any damage, you could just roll out of the way. I picture some poor dude, passed out and engulfed by turtles. [N.B. Since this post, I have invented a fictional band called Plague of Turtles, no doubt inspired by this image.])
As retro-futuristic as the Space Needle.
Toy food in a playhouse satisfies until it doesn’t. Is this where chefs come from?
In high school, my sister reassembled a frog’s skeleton and encased it in Lucite. Ever since, I have been fascinated by how small bones can be, whether in wee animals or our own ears.
A deliberately boring arts festival in the desert. Everybody catches up on their sleep.
At heart, SuperGuy is a workplace comedy, albeit one that takes hilarious advantage of every superhero cliché in the toolbox. The story opens with the hero already in dire, ridiculous peril, then makes use of an extended flashback to convey SuperGuy’s origin story. And what a story it is, a workplace comedy in its own right. Through the alliances, petty rivalries and small-scale power struggles in the offices of city government, overeducated but unemployable intern Oliver Olson accidentally becomes SuperGuy when the mayor decides to fill a budgeted hero position in order to secure re-election. As a real if low-budget and modestly-powered (but not modestly-costumed) hero, Oliver has to quickly adjust to his new position, which has its own set of rules, alliances and rivalries. While still
I grew up in the high desert of Central Washington, where we regularly experiences wraparound sunsets. Difficult to photograph, but this painting by my neighbor captures some of the depth.
Going Green by Heather S. Ransom (
Karen Eisenbrey 