Sunday, July 23, 2006
today i found out that the new thomas pynchon book called 'against the day' will be released early december.
read these things.
i suggested to mike that
and i quote from our msn convo:
we should all read it and form a READING GROUP OF IT
and we can be like, THAT PART WAS CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZY
over vodka crans
Make an Italian mob "meh."
Shrug. Cuss into your fists.
Giggle and fuck and call yourself
"Mr. Giggle-Fuck the Giggle-Fucker."
Be totally the tin man with the red thing.
Make sure no one is around, then
French kiss the lakes that won't drain.
how to read a mike young poem
get indignant at a comet
flaunt your pointy side
the rain will try to douse you
it's like cinnamon
not a candy cane
redo your mirror's seams.
Brought to you by a total esprit de corps wig out.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
beauty in a time of bombs: some thoughts
why do i write things to make them beautiful? things are not beautiful, things are clunky and lukewarm.
is beautiful language dishonest? why do i glaze the truth to make it more appetizing in my writing? truth is a rare commodity. everything seems to be keeping something hidden from everything else.
i know these things, but i still feel like i have to dress up my writing [insert simile here]. is it because human brains use metaphors to function?
everyone should discuss this here.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
I am not a foodie or an asshole or gay. When I make cool food, it's for the same reason I make cool phrases: I just like how it all sounds.
And some of it even tastes good, so that's nice.
Here are books I have recently finished and giggled or cried at:
Nice People Dancing to Country Music - Lee Blessing (play)
Carol Bly - Backbone (stories)
Emile Zola - The Attack on the Mill (stories)
Bill Berkson - Lush Life (poetry)
And They Put Handcuffs on the Flowers - Fernando Arrabal (play)
Visigoth - Gary Amdahl (stories)
You really should read those, at least the Bly, Zola and Arrabal.
At least the Zola.
For class, I reread Carl Sandburg's Chicago poems and found them swelled with grit and still reminiscent of Bruce Springsteen. Kasey Mohammad made me say why they reminded me of Springsteen, which I'm sure he regretted upon seeing the size of my reply.
Okay, uncle. There is not much I don't enjoy. I'm not really enjoying The Cantos. But I'm not supposed to, so okay.
Fuck you too, Ezra. Fuck you too.
In the comment section, please put something you've read and enjoyed, and please fill in the blank: "Fuck you too, _____. Fuck you too."
I love you.
P.S. Also: listen first to Barbara Jane Reyes's "Lullaby in SoMa for Paloma" and "Going Outside to Find the Sky." Then listen to Tyehimba Jess's 1912: blind lemon jefferson explaining to ledbelly.
P.P.S. Fizzpo is dead. The following people wrote Fizzpo: Alex, Jessica, Bryan, Angela and Randy. Angela actually cracked the rules and wrote rule-oriented fizzpo with insane precision. Then everyone stopped, which led to Fizzpo's death. If anyone else wants to say they wrote Fizzpo, they're probably lame and in need of a bath. But everyone is now welcome to write Post-fizzpo. We are currently talking to Norton about releasing a Fizzpo anthology. It will arrive in Smuukentember of 214523523.
P.P.P.S Fizzpo is not dead. I just got word. Everyone now who writes fizzpo is actually writing Second Generation fizzpo, which is no way a disgrace. If you now wish to write Fizzpo, please indiciate whether you are writing Post-fizzpo or Second Generation Fizzpo. If you don't, God will secretly eat you. It will be a secret because God will be in his Costume of Secrets, which somewhat resembles a crescent wrench.