Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Monday, January 26, 2009

Am I too earnest?

Sometimes I feel like a Boy Scout.

Part of a Funny Gmail Chat Mike Young and I had on Halloween in 2006

I just found this as I was looking for an old email. I thought it was funny.

12:51 PM me: i think our society should adopt the idea of "obsoletion" though it is not a real word. i think our society is in a perpetual state of obsoletion.
12:52 PM Mike: For sure.
What do you mean adopt?
Don't we already have that attitude?
12:53 PM me: well i want us to name it that.
Mike: A lot has been written about modern technological cylces influencing stuff like cultural cycles and generating a society that sees things as instantly obsolete.
I dunno if people use the world obsoletion tho.
It's a good word.
me: i see hans. he is dressed as a soldier. i think it's hans
yes, it's hans
Mike: Hurrah!
I am a blind jackhammer operator.
me: hahahaha
12:54 PM Mike: We need to clean the house before our Halloween party.
me: question: in MLA do you put header (last name and pg. #) on the works cited?
yes i know
Mike: Yes.
me: k
thought so
12:55 PM Mike: I like this rhetoric essay I did.
I think it works well.
12:56 PM Jane seems like quite the stickler.
With papers and such.
Almost as bad as Tom.
We have good discussions in class tho.
me: srry i didn't get the first part of that
12:57 PM Mike: Jane seems like quite the stickler.
With papers and such.
me: i just got "we have good discussions in class tho"
what did you say before that
Mike: Jane seems like quite the stickler.
With papers and such.
I chasistised her today for seeing the Green party's platform in binary ideological opposition to mainstream ideology. I said that the idea of binary ideologies is antiquated.
12:58 PM Even tho it's a superficial political reality right now.
Who did binaries?
Baulliard or Derrida?
me: yes. binary ideologies are easy though.
um...
probably derrida
Mike: sorry
now I lost everything
me: wasn't beaudrillard the simulacra simulacrum?
12:59 PM Mike: Yes.
Good call.
me: hey, let's play a fun game: you have three guesses to guess what that lily girl is going to be for halloween
ready
go
1:00 PM ready, go
go
Mike: a goth
me: no
think, man!
Mike: oh
marilyn monroe?
me: as soon as she said it, i was like, oh that fits.
yes.
hehe
Mike: good call
1:01 PM me: i told her kelsey was going as jackie kennedy
and then i told her they should fight to the death
hehe jk
1:02 PM Mike: hahaha
brb

haha
6 minutes
1:08 PM me: what is an aspect of our society that is deteriorating to a point of no return?
8 minutes
1:16 PM me: well i'm gonna go. catch you later

Friday, January 23, 2009

I Liked Tao Lin's Last Blog Post...

...but he deleted it. I think it deserves a second chance at life on the internet because I think the questions are good questions. I feel the same way about many things -- not necessarily the blog readership, but much of the general alienation caused, I think, by the internet or something.

So I will reproduce it in its entirety -- if Tao asks me, I'll pull it down. I hope this isn't terribly inappropriate.

am i anything without this blog

am i more or less 'rounded' as a character without the internet

do my books mean anything, do they do anything

am i going to be okay or am i going to kill myself

why do i feel that nothing is concrete, why is everything an abstraction to me if i haven't had coffee in the last two hours

does this blog's existence cause me to eat more or less carbohydrates

what percentage of my diet is organic, is it really 90-95%

do manatees distinguish between the world of phenomena and the metaphysical world, is a dog or hamster just an abstraction to another dog or hamster

do hamsters believe there is good or bad in art

do i view the world in terms of a one-dimensional spectrum where one end-point is labeled 'funny'

do i still have feelings if i believe i am an abstraction

am i still severely depressed if i keep thinking 'haha'

what will happen when don delillo dies

does a major catastrophe exist that would cause me to blog about it on this blog

has anyone ever thought 'i honestly want an asteroid to fall on me and destroy me right now' and then gotten hit by an asteroid, has anyone even ever been hit by an asteroid that killed them, does that even happen or should i stop wanting that

for how much longer can the tone of this blog be sustained

is this blog sustainable, can this blog die, like can hits go down to zero

hits are increasing, but why do i feel sad

are hits not the answer to happiness, i feel confused, how many hits are required, what numbers are acceptable to tao lin, are his neurotransmitters going to do something or something or just not do anything or something

do i both mean and not mean everything i say on this blog

is there a new tone being created or did people write books like this in 1200 and 1500 and they just didn't gain a large enough readership or be taught by knights and priests and so went very out-of-print and do not exist anymore

how many units has this blog contributed to moving, is this blog a financial success

do people believe that this blog is moral within a moral worldview, not moral within an existential worldview, is there philosophical confusion within this blog's readership

is my worldview not contained within each sentence that i publish on the internet

should i use more adverbs

should i disown several of my books, i can delete them from my wikipedia page and they won't exist as much anymore, should i edit my oeuvre as i edit everything else i effect on the universe

how many friends have i made due to this blog

will this blog ever have a period of exponential growth

where did the tone of this blog come from

do people that i would like dislike this blog, have i created an internet persona that alienates a number of people that i could, like, hang out with and not feel bad

copy and paste the above questions into a 'new post' in your blogger account then type your answers to those questions and tag five to ten other people, pressuring them to also answer the questions on their own blogs, at the bottom of this post i will maybe link every blog that participates in this meme

*disclaimer* questions are specific to 'reader of depressing books' not any other blog *disclaimer*

i tag: gawker, hipster runoff, michelle williams, tom hanks super fan, ron silliman, chris killen


End block quote.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Benjamin Buchholz's Thirteen Stares and Mary Miller's Less Shiny from Magic Helicopter Press

I just finished reading Benjamin Buchholz's Thirteen Stares this morning. All the poems are trenchant, mini-exposés that parse curiosity/love/life from war/dust/blood/shit.

The poems attempt to circumvent the obvious -- to navigate sand and wreckage and ghosts while reminding the reader that there are other things people obsess over, like Xboxes and Victoria's Secret.

Read the poem "Thirteen Stares."

You can buy it here for 6 bucks.


















The stories in Mary Miller's Less Shiny remind me how I want to write. They do what a good short story should do: capture a chunk of time. But they do it in a way that is not "systematic" or "contrived."

To me, not all moments have a definable "beginning" and "end" -- there should be a different way to describe them. Mary Miller's stories make me think that she's hyperaware of a moment's "third dimension" or something.

Read the story "This Boy I Loved a Rock."

You can buy it here for 6 bucks.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Lots Of Good Stuff At Rain Fade

If you read this blog, you might have checked out the online journal I co-edit with my friend/roommate/coworker Willie Ziebell. (He looks like Harmony Korine.)

If you haven't checked it out yet, you should. We've put up a bunch of cool writing in the past few months, with much more to come. (Including some photography/visual art -- stay tuned.)

So far we've published stuff from:

Justin Runge
Lacey Hunter
Mike Young
K. Silem Mohammad
Juliet Cook
J.D. Nelson
Matthew Simmons
P.H. Madore
Ryland Brown
Alex Burford
Drew Kalbach

...with much more to come.

The end of 2008 was our birth, and we're looking forward to an exciting 2009. So keep reading stuff and keep sending us stuff.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

7 THINGS

This is something I should have done at least a week ago when Mike Young tagged me. He tagged me to say 7 things about myself. I guess I'll write 7 honest things even if they are embarrassing or make me sound like a vapid asshole.

1. I like pretty much any French thing. If I could, I would make a smoothie out of Jean-Luc Godard, Ana Karina (even though she was born in Denmark), the song "Ne Me Quitte Pas" (even though it was written by a Belgian), French kisses, Marcel Duchamp, my French press, and Jean-Paul Sartre.





2. I have wanted an iPhone for a long time and I somehow convinced myself that something terrible would happen to me and I would never get one before I died. But I'm supposed to get one tomorrow, and barring a Biggie-sized self-fulfilling prophecy, there will be one less imagined reality to give me anxiety.

3. I'm worried that much of what I think are "intelligent contributions to conversations" are really just a bunch of jumbled thoughts that seem connected in my mind but sound like the ramblings of a drunken homeless man when I say them out loud. Sometimes I feel like I have "figured something out" and I have a physiological reaction to this emotion. It feels like a screen in a video game that indicates that you have solved a puzzle.

4. I have become a really, really patient person when it comes to dealing with unpleasant things. I never used to consider myself "patient," but now I just bury whatever immediate words that come to mind when dealing with unpleasant circumstances deep down inside because it usually doesn't help to say them immediately.

5. Sometimes I resent my friends and then later I feel like a huge piece of selfish shit for resenting them. If you are my friend, chances are at one point I have resented you. Sorry. I think it's a coping mechanism or something.

6. The other day I ate a breakfast burrito when I was naked in the bathroom before I got in the shower. It felt like a very vulgar and absurd thing. I think I laughed out loud and looked in the bathroom mirror. Don't judge me. I was running late.

7. The song "Time to Pretend" by MGMT makes me feel scared and gives me existential anxiety even though I should just want to dance to it. I miss the dance parties we used to have when I was in college. I think they kept me grounded and helped me to "live in the moment."

Now I'm tagging:
Jess Rowan
Lacey Hunter
K. Silem Mohammad
Willie Z
Jennifer Garcia
Genevieve Kleinbaum
Brandi Wells

Monday, January 5, 2009

Saturday, January 3, 2009

2 New Ones

I Cannot Wait Any Longer To Impress You

The reason I'm going ahead with this attempt now is because I cannot wait any longer to impress you. --John Hinckley, Jr. in a letter to Jodie Foster

In the wake of the Rodney King beating, the reason I'm going ahead with this attempt now is because I cannot wait any longer to impress you. This time is characterized by informal and free approach to diving education, which lead to numerous diving accidents, especially in Sinai peninsula.

In other words, I'm in it to win it. Misery duplicates modernity in small but relentless doses. Like Robitussin. Conjugal Mt. Everest in the ever-loving Jet Blue morning, how are your bone seeds doing? I cannot wait any longer to impress you.

Pakistan provides an interdisciplinary and practice-oriented education for a competitive and diverse U.S. workforce and seeks to educate the public about chemical sensing applied to applications in environment, homeland security, and health.

It's all under the nails like a secretary's skin -- smells of imported nutmeg. Sniffing out lies and lung disease. Fighting through faces and blood pressures to the piecemeal marathon that is inside of you. I cannot wait any longer to impress you.

Laos has appeared in 6 Summer Games. They have never appeared in the Winter Games. They have never won a medal. Darius then died whilst preparing to march on Egypt, and the throne of Persia passed to his son Xerxes I. Xerxes was the first wife of the famous songwriter, Irving Berlin.

Her children are the subjects of a documentary called The Twin Inside Me. She was scrapped in 1908, well after her muzzle-loading guns were outdated. She had five inches of iron armour on her deck, and her turret was protected by twelve inches of iron armour.


I'm here, right, in the same corner as you are. Under the same shipwrecked Google image of a God as you are. Indenting. On its own, so far, so winningly. Undefined. The first farewell of a new kind of desperation that has diseased me. Which one of you will go first? I cannot wait any longer to impress you.


In olden times a number of small independent states existed in the popular and somewhat disturbing music video featuring Gabriel (in white face paint) and a frightened-looking macaque. When you enlarge your mind and let go of it, you will see harm and not be frightened by it. When your body is calm and unmoving it is a bicameral body made up of the New Mexico House of Representatives and the New Mexico Senate.

This house was designed to ease the process of dying. Dynamic lighting. Platelets firm like Bosc pears. Railroad tie bones. Wheeze Calliope from the lungs, throat, teeth, and out. Holding the guest list as always. Carrot bones, I cannot wait any longer to impress you.


***

Destroyed by Suffragettes

There is my face, covered in burning tea gardens and processions of your "Ps and Qs." The physical force of death, the denial of service attacks, the link to the review admin. Pulling into the carport: "These neuroses are God's neuroses." Like a twist of lime in your capillaries. Burning in wrists. Oxazine dye in collapsing veins. "They're all collapsing." That turn, after months, into the driveway and the slow drive to the door. Fixing the blinds, separating them, pulling the cord left, pulling the cord right, pulling the cord left. Dents in the roof of your mouth. Go dance freely through space and time.

This operation is scheduled to last for approximately 90 days, the flanks ruddy with two orange "sails" at the back. Hope has a library, a sports centre and a football, cricket and rugby club. For a few years, humpback whales were flensed on the beach, giving the place the epitaph of Blubber Bay. A liquefied natural gas receiving terminal, and a gas-fired electricity generation project at Kiddie Point. It shows an armed goose marching down a road. There is a swastika on its chest, and it is stepping on a torn Locarno Pact. Below the drawing of the goose there is a short poem, which parodies the nursery rhyme Goosey Goosey Gander, the upcoming live action Star Wars television show.

Clean, tinseled flesh. Smooth paws detailing zeros and ones; daily reunions of top and bottom. Pilot lights dot the highway, preening under the Milky Way-palooza. Jingoist claymation fills the space from the top of the river to the bottom of the bridge. In other words, dicey roadhouse women pleathering to die young and hard through space and time.

The following is a list of known serial killers before 1900, in roughly chronological order. Dan, Sondar, Peabody and Willie. Dan and Sondar are taken to a spaceship hangar, where D'Arcy explains that he had thought Sondar was a spy from the Mekon. Late one night, he climbs up the building fire escape and sees two people murder a drunken sailor. Dan demands that Digby and Urb be handed over, and, when Mistag arrives, D'Arcy says that Dan and Sondar can be allies against the Mekon. Instead a lot of drinking happened, but Phil was still commissioned to play guitar.

In the Valley of Infinite Sustain they knit infinite babies from infinite yarn. This current guitar solo demands to be brought up by nordic-looking parents -- preferably theologians. Good fingering is hard to come by. Even in the midwest, where fingering is a true art form like opera and milking. Then discord. Then whispers like "Oh my, oh my." Arrowing downward through brain and bone to the middle of the chest where you really and truly keep your good garden, you women of ill-fated sound. We, through space and time, go with the same frequencies as lonelygirl15, Cheers, and Boston Legal.

The Swan Boats are a fleet of pleasure boats operating on the lake of the Boston Public Garden in Boston, Massachusetts. The tail, legs, snout and eartips are hairless. The forelegs are noticeably more developed than the hind ones, but all have strong claws useful for digging. Solenodons may fight each other on first meeting, but eventually they establish a dominance relationship and live together in captivity in relative harmony. Some of the species of this genus are disc-shaped with plicate lobes at the circumference; these lobes may appear chalky white, grayish, greenish or brownish.

My hands are disastrous, like a shuttle crumbling through space and time that you can see from your porch in the early morning, its snout descending to a willowy history. A lawsuit that vines its maidens with a broken arm. Dying to get back home to see if it left any of its shiny appliances on. It's "laid back." It settles, hunched over in the corner where we keep the microwave.

A man in a yellow suit claims he owns the woods in order to bring Winnie back. Winnie doesn't want to go with him, but Mae (the mother of Jesse Tuck) strikes him and kills him. At the end, Winifred "Winnie" dies, for she didn't drink from the spring like Jesse had wanted her to. He was one of the teenage "heartthrobs" prominently featured in Bop and Tiger Beat magazines. He retired, as a Shark, following the 1992–93 season. He became blind later in his life and still managed to write 16 books with help from his sister. He died in Paris.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Happy New Year, Send Me Graphic Fiction To Read

I love graphic novels but they are very expensive. Send them to me for free so I can read them.

I just received and am reading Revolution Of The Word: A New Gathering of American Avant Garde Poetry 1914-1945, Sandra Simonds' Warsaw Bikini, Bruce Andrews' Executive Summary, and Apollinaire's The Poet Assassinated.

There are girls screaming in the background at my apartment. I am listening to Black Mountain's "Bright Lights." Here, listen:
Black Mountain - Bright Lights
Found at skreemr.com


GOD BLESS YOUR INSIDES YOU BOARD GAME ENTHUSIASTS! YOU LOLLIPOP EXISTENTIALISTS! YOU ROAD MONGERERS!