Undaunted by today's harrowing events, Yelpers across the Hub dashed to their laptops to do what they do best: speak their minds.

Last week we noted the arrival of a new rock club in Somerville called RADIO. This 200-person capacity venue at 379 Somerville Ave., in the space formerly called Club Choices, will join a fairly crowded live music scene in Union Square, lining up nearly across the street from P.A’s Lounge and Sally O’Brien’s and just a short walk from Precinct and Starlab.

Felt that earthquake, or did you think the pimply-faced intern sitting across from you was blasting his shitty-ass dubstep mix again?

Yes ladies and germs, Boston just shook like it hasn't shook since the old Garden was still standing, and to celebrate -- in addition to Phoenix offices being evacuated for 15 minutes -- we're revisiting EARTHQUAKE PARTY, the fuzzy/scuzzy Allston garage rock trio that was our Massachusetts pick in July's 50 Bands 50 States feature

Rob Eno has written a ridiculous response to my blog criticism, and I'll briefly respond below; normally I wouldn't get sucked into a back-and-forth yapfest over nonsense, but I want to make a point about how people like Eno are going to make it difficult for Scott Brown to win re-election.

There is great pleasure and self-satisfaction to be had from spending the next 14 months or so reflexively searching for outrage in your political opposition's every act and utterance.

OK, look, you all know a few things about me: I love everybody; I like 1990s hip-hop more than is reasonable; and I'm all for demanding disclosure and transparency concerning money in politics, regardless of party or ideology.

So I'll be happy to complain, as time goes on, that Mass Uniting -- the organization running the "Bobblehead Brown" campaign I blogged about this morning -- is being too secretive about their backers and where their money is going and all that.

Can you smell it, Bostonians? Can you smell it in the air? That, my friends, is the scent of the end of summer. Soon, the thousands of students we have been missing (or perhaps not missing) will return; everything will be open later, as summer hours will end; but so will the long days, warm nights and dreamy endlessness of summer.

Twisted Nerve (1968) opening credits

You might not remember what you've seen in a film with a Bernard Herrmann score, but you'll probably remember what you heard. Like the taunting rhythms of the title music to Sisters (1973; 3:15 + 7:30 pm), Brian De Palma's diabolical thriller about a beautiful pair of divided Siamese siblings who give added meaning to the term "evil twin."

Not going to lie, I was expecting IDENTITY FESTIVAL to be a wankfest of the utmost proportion. And for all intents and purposes, it was, with neon and brostep ruing the day. But considering the worst that could've happened when you unleash a cavalcade of geeked-up 20-somethings onto an amphitheater housing three stages of aggressive electronic music and a clearly overwhelmed security staff? At least my mother wasn't calling me on Sunday to ask if the festival I spent my Saturday at was the one on the news at Great Woods where all the kids overdosed on Twisted Teas and rave pills.

By now, last week's Top 100 Britpop Anthems of the '90s list has hit a certain point of saturation -- there's the reader's vote (which oddly placed Blur's "Popscene" in the top spot all weekend), there's the massive Spotify playlist, there was the afterparty Friday night at the pill, there was the five-hour marathon show on WFNX on Thursday (hour-by-hour podcasts coming soon!), and there was endless discussion of our selections and rankings across Facebook, Twitter, message boards, and blogs.

Even the most hardcore Red Sox fan might feel a little begrudging affection for the pinstripes after watching Safe At Home! (1962). Of course, it helps that it takes place almost half a century ago, when Yankees Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris were vying to break the Babe's single season home run record. The two sluggers star in this heartwarming drama about a Little League team that dreams of seeing them in person, and though the ballplayers were wise not to leave the diamond for the big screen, director Walter Doniger does touch on sentiments that both Boston and New York fans can appreciate.

Last summer, I questioned the legality and ethics of Senator Scott Brown raising money by, in effect, scalping tickets to a Lowell Spinners game, at which Scotto's buddy at Zoll Medical handed out Scotto bobblehead dolls. (Side note: Brown's campaign spokespeople responded to that item by saying the scheme had been reviewed and approved by legal consultant -- and now state representative -- Dan Winslow.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote an article about the much-rumored Elizabeth Warren US Senate candidacy; in it, I reported that my "conversations with Bay State Democratic operatives... suggest a certain level of resistance, if not outright hostility, from the local political establishment." Those activists, organizers, campaign veterans, and fundraisers, I wrote, are generally open to persuasion -- mostly because they haven't given their hearts to any of the current candidates -- but do still need to be persuaded, directly.

There are many shocking moments in Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of Stephen King's novel The Shining (1980), but the real terror is subtle, insidious, and will linger in your nightmares. Some images will never leave you: the elevator full of blood, for example, or the Diane Arbus twins, or the woman in the tub, or the eerie sound that Danny - the little boy with the title gift of ESP - makes when his Big Wheel rolls from bare floors to carpeting in the endless, empty corridors of the Overlook Hotel.

Just a few weekends ago, while running back and forth and all over in between the Starlabfest BBQ and Deep Heaven Now's two stages at P.A.'s Lounge and Precinct, we marveled at the vibrancy of Union Square in Somerville. This October, it'll gain even more action within the city's music scene, as the recently shuttered Club Choices on Somerville Avenue re-opens under new ownership as RADIO, a restaurant and live music venue headed up by Rosebud bartender JOSH BANVILLE and booked by Boston Band Crush's ASHLEY WILLARD

Here at the Phoenix, we try and walk the walk. Call it advocacy journalism if you want, but we find it important to connect with the communities we cover.

With that said, the summer brings some amazing events - events that are, in some cases, fun enough to make you feel guilty for having such a good time in the name of social justice.

So today is the last day in the office for our beloved summer music intern, SAM UEDA (the dude up there on the left). The University of New Hampshire incoming junior caught our attention back in March, when his fancy resume, cute school newspaper clips, and indie rock ambition were enough for him to reach the final hurdle in securing a glorious and exciting summer internship here at the Phoenix: the mixtape stage.

Chicago's SCATTERED TREES played a great show last night at Brighton Music Hall in support of PAUL DEMPSEY. The band's U2-but-not-nearly-as-shitty-as-U2 sound sent good vibes throughout the room. The soft and charming vocals of Nate Eisland and his smokin' hot wife Alissa dipped and soared with stunning dynamics.

24 hour party, people?

Seriously, what is the Globe arts staff smoking?

On Tuesday, the broadsheet published a piece by Geoff Edgers -- the Globe's designated arts troll -- in which the author manufactured some petit outrage around a misleading claim that the Museum of Fine Arts was charging an outrageous amount of money to view Christian Marclay's 24-hour film "The Clock," which is sort of the Lady Gaga of contemporary art pieces.