Array
(
    [results] => Array
        (
            [0] => Array
                (
                    [ArticleID] => 1252223
                    [Title] => Set the twilight reeling
                    [Summary] => 
Satellite’s gone, up to the sky,Things like that drive me out of my mind.— Lou Reed, Satellite of Love

                    [DatePublished] => 2013-11-03 00:00:00
                    [ColumnID] => 136008
                    [Focus] => 0
                    [AuthorID] => 1804693
                    [AuthorName] => Scott R. Garceau
                    [SectionName] => Sunday Lifestyle
                    [SectionUrl] => sunday-life
                    [URL] => http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/3999/ueur.jpg
                )

            [1] => Array
                (
                    [ArticleID] => 131596
                    [Title] => Fear of rain
                    [Summary] => Night of the lost ballpen, an old Parker, was also a night of near-rain: the snake was in Guadalupe nursing a broken heart. It was the third night of the wake of his dead daughter, and we were supposed to drop by and condole with him, but at the last minute plans fell through. Instead, we headed straight home, armed with an Emperador lapad, and a copy of Lou Reed’s The Blue Mask. The blue Parker must have fallen in between swigs of the cheap brandy; we did not discover it was missing until the next day.

                    [DatePublished] => 2001-08-27 00:00:00
                    [ColumnID] => 133272
                    [Focus] => 0
                    [AuthorID] => 1431668
                    [AuthorName] => Juaniyo Arcellana
                    [SectionName] => Arts and Culture
                    [SectionUrl] => arts-and-culture
                    [URL] => 
                )

        )

)

BLUE MASK

Array
(
    [results] => Array
        (
            [0] => Array
                (
                    [ArticleID] => 1252223
                    [Title] => Set the twilight reeling
                    [Summary] => 
Satellite’s gone, up to the sky,Things like that drive me out of my mind.— Lou Reed, Satellite of Love

                    [DatePublished] => 2013-11-03 00:00:00
                    [ColumnID] => 136008
                    [Focus] => 0
                    [AuthorID] => 1804693
                    [AuthorName] => Scott R. Garceau
                    [SectionName] => Sunday Lifestyle
                    [SectionUrl] => sunday-life
                    [URL] => http://img27.imageshack.us/img27/3999/ueur.jpg
                )

            [1] => Array
                (
                    [ArticleID] => 131596
                    [Title] => Fear of rain
                    [Summary] => Night of the lost ballpen, an old Parker, was also a night of near-rain: the snake was in Guadalupe nursing a broken heart. It was the third night of the wake of his dead daughter, and we were supposed to drop by and condole with him, but at the last minute plans fell through. Instead, we headed straight home, armed with an Emperador lapad, and a copy of Lou Reed’s The Blue Mask. The blue Parker must have fallen in between swigs of the cheap brandy; we did not discover it was missing until the next day.

                    [DatePublished] => 2001-08-27 00:00:00
                    [ColumnID] => 133272
                    [Focus] => 0
                    [AuthorID] => 1431668
                    [AuthorName] => Juaniyo Arcellana
                    [SectionName] => Arts and Culture
                    [SectionUrl] => arts-and-culture
                    [URL] => 
                )

        )

)

abtest

Set the twilight reeling

By Scott R. Garceau | November 3, 2013 - 12:00am

Satellite’s gone, up to the sky,Things like that drive me out of my mind.— Lou Reed, Satellite of Love

Sunday Lifestyle

Fear of rain

By Juaniyo Arcellana | August 27, 2001 - 12:00am

Night of the lost ballpen, an old Parker, was also a night of near-rain: the snake was in Guadalupe nursing a broken heart. It was the third night of the wake of his dead daughter, and we were supposed to drop by...

Arts and Culture