Difference between revisions of "The Moldy Filters"

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m (Alan moved page Moldy Filters to The Moldy Filters)
 
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“Belt-punk” group (“belt” as in the asteroid belt) mentioned in James S. A. Corey’s 2011 sci-fi novel ''Leviathan Wakes''.
 
“Belt-punk” group (“belt” as in the asteroid belt) mentioned in James S. A. Corey’s 2011 sci-fi novel ''Leviathan Wakes''.
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<blockquote>
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Even considering everything that had happened to them over the past month, Naomi up onstage with a mic in one hand and some sort of fuchsia martini in the other, screaming out an angry Belt-punk anthem by the Moldy Filters, was the strangest thing he'd ever seen. She finished to scattered applause and a few catcalls, then staggered off the stage and collapsed across from him in the booth. She held up her drink, sloshing a good half of it onto the table, then threw the other half back all at once.
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“Whadja think?” Naomi asked, waving at the bartender for another.
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“It was terrible,” Holden replied.
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“No, really.”
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“It was truly one of the most awful renditions of one of the most awful songs I've ever heard.”
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Naomi shook her head, blowing an exasperated raspberry at him. Her dark hair fell across her face and, when the bartender brought her a second brightly colored martini, foiled all her attempts at drinking. She finally grabbed her hair and held it above her head in a clump while she drank.
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“You don't get it,” she said. "It's ''supposed'' to be awful. That's the point."
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“Then it was the best version of that song I've ever heard,” Holden said.
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“Damn straight.”</blockquote>
 
[[Category:2011|Moldy Filters, The]]
 
[[Category:2011|Moldy Filters, The]]
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[[Category:Novels|Moldy Filters, The]]
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[[Category:Punk rock|Moldy Filters, The]]

Latest revision as of 12:55, 21 January 2020

“Belt-punk” group (“belt” as in the asteroid belt) mentioned in James S. A. Corey’s 2011 sci-fi novel Leviathan Wakes.

Even considering everything that had happened to them over the past month, Naomi up onstage with a mic in one hand and some sort of fuchsia martini in the other, screaming out an angry Belt-punk anthem by the Moldy Filters, was the strangest thing he'd ever seen. She finished to scattered applause and a few catcalls, then staggered off the stage and collapsed across from him in the booth. She held up her drink, sloshing a good half of it onto the table, then threw the other half back all at once.

“Whadja think?” Naomi asked, waving at the bartender for another.

“It was terrible,” Holden replied.

“No, really.”

“It was truly one of the most awful renditions of one of the most awful songs I've ever heard.”

Naomi shook her head, blowing an exasperated raspberry at him. Her dark hair fell across her face and, when the bartender brought her a second brightly colored martini, foiled all her attempts at drinking. She finally grabbed her hair and held it above her head in a clump while she drank.

“You don't get it,” she said. "It's supposed to be awful. That's the point."

“Then it was the best version of that song I've ever heard,” Holden said.

“Damn straight.”