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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Nation of Tire Sale's LiveJournal:

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Saturday, February 18th, 2017
9:25 am
Joyce Carol Oates' BLONDE
the Gemini to DeLillo's Libra?

(will be returning this title to - hopefully - Dora the Explorer roundabout 10am ..)

meanwhile :
Friday, December 9th, 2016
1:35 am
Thursday, November 3rd, 2016
2:36 am
(NOtes from S. Akron ..)


/ Allegiant tomorrow / another tooth extracted / Movember writig month .. which almost always devolves into *reading* .. in this case Wyndham Lewis' 1931 Morocco travelogue, hey !
Tuesday, October 25th, 2016
10:30 am
(your one year Halloween/St. Andrew's Day anniversary ..)
"If I knew this many people cared about me, I would die more often." - Dave Monroe, 1966-2015


My original plan was to tell you th' day-by-day (the few days i was there ..), but it shines in memory, so ..


Jason Klimas writes: "Dave even supplied a 45 (Wanda Jackson 'Funnel of Love') for a Jim Jarmusch film [Only Lovers Left Alive]. Dave's quote: 'one of my "funnel of love"s is gonna be in a jim jarmusch film, apparently (?!)'"


Modus Operandi audio commentary with Mark Borchardt and Dave Monroe

Inherent Vice themovie ..

(delivered by MKE's poet laureate)

Lili Dora writes: "Grab a pile of your favorite books , catch a bus to an Indian restaurant, take the bus to the the movies and fall asleep, back on the bus for an IHOP pancake deal, order an action figure online, send a few thousand emails , then play your favorite record in Dave Monroe's honor."

Tuesday, September 13th, 2016
9:02 am

** Written in the summer of 1963 THE SIMULACRA was originally titled FIRST LADY OF EARTH and is an expansion of the novelette "Novelty Act" which PKD had written in March 1963 and which was published in Fantastic in Feb 1964. The expansion and reworking of "Novelty Act" was finished by 28 Aug 1963 when the longer manuscript dropped in the mail slot at the SMLA. THE SIMULACRA was published by Ace Books as a paperback original in Aug 1964. **

Thursday, August 18th, 2016
12:54 am
(Requiem for the Rockets)

"Fascinating, yes. An interesting word. From the Latin fascinus. An amulet shaped like a phallus. A word progressing from the same root as the word 'fascism.' "

You think you're about to arrive
Odell said he'd talked to Richie on the phone. Richie was barricaded in the warehouse. He was feeding the dogs infrequently, to give them a meaner edge. He'd had this feeling for months, Odell said. Someone was out to get him. Some dark force. There was a sniper somewhere, waiting for the right moment. He was sitting on a bed in some rooming house, cleaning his rifle scope. He had a bullet with Richie's name on it. Dallas, Richie would say. What am I doing in Dallas?
"All he talks about is John F. Kidney, Bobby Kidney, Martin Luther Kang, Jaws Wallace."
"What?" Lightborne said.

@ some final truth
or the emptiness of "quest motif" / that, in the end, the Final Boss to overcome is oneself. this comes through in Infinite Jest out th' mouth of Coach Schtitt, songs of occasion for meeting the self, boundaries/limits and the freedoms they allow, a certain tragic sense ..

Truth is a disappointment
He sat on the edge of the bed and took off his shoes.
"You're a New York woman," he said. "A classic type."
"Shut up, Arthur, will you?"
"No, really, in the best sense."
She took off her dress and put it over a chair.
"I never thought I'd end up in bed with a man who wears Clark's Wallabees."
"I don't wear them in bed."
"At least they're not Hush Puppies," she said. "Good Christ, think of it."

You'll only be disappointed
in Three Days of the Condor, part of the "Watergate Noir" subgenre, Robert Redford plays a CIA reader .. suggesting that they get their ideas from pulp novels and the like. dunno about all *that*, but in Don DeLillo's 1978 CIA comedy Running Dog there's a character name of Levi Blackwater, a fixture on a .. training ranch very like the one founded by living, breathing Bad Hair Incarnation Erik Prince in 1997.
Saturday, August 13th, 2016
8:56 am
The Last to Find Out
intrepid g_rl reporter as lady detective .. the Art World .. domestic intelligence : William Gibson's Spook Country, in retro-spect, comes off as, eh, less vivid/humorful Running Dog (that's the 1978 DeLillo i'm into now ..). Lady Detective? more savvy than Oedipa Maas, nearer to Maxine in Bleeding Edge, but this one has the old school Bogie flavor (dreami G of babyloN), driven largely by 70s cultural retrievals in fashion ..

She wore thong sandals, a loose cotton dress and a hip sash - an outfit she used whenever she felt a deceptive appearance was called for. A date with a man she suspected she might dislike, for instance. She believed herself to be attractive, although not quite this way. Clothes, used in this matter, were a method of safeguarding her true self, pending developments.

"this is Ben Fong-Torres"

"Who do you work for?" Selvy said.
"Running Dog," she said.
He paused briefly.
"One-time organ of discontent."
"We were fairly radical, yes."
"Now safely established in the mainstream."
"I wouldn't say safely."
"Part of the ever-expanding middle."
"We say 'fuck' all the time."
"My point exactly."
Tuesday, August 2nd, 2016
1:06 am
th' Muscatatuck Plateau Trayodashians (circa 1995)
Front Row (left to right): Orville "Flash" Perkins, Warren Clarke, Orell Scott, Todd Mallomar,
Det. Arthur Dietrich; Back Row: Marcy Levy, Garwood B. Jones, Nicorette Arson, Cassie Gaines,
Wanda 3Jane Moskowitz-Falarski, Dean Daughtry, Steven M. Krikorian, David Messerschmitt.

yLost Naddre of the Fascist's Daughter
The truth, I would like to say here, is as follows. But I can't. In some places, it may already have begun, the war of everybody against everybody, all against all. "The Great Game," the lady philosopher used to say, quoting from Kipling, "is finished when everyone is dead. Not before."

"A minor squall of applause gathered and blew through the auditorium. Then the doors burst open again, and five hundred people poured into the lobby. They were all talking about Q. and his rascally double, the latter of whom had apparently ended the lecture with an unflattering remark about the cumulative literary achievement of Pittsburgh, comparing it with Luxembourg's and Chad's. I waved to a couple of my offended colleagues and nodded carefully to Franconia Epps, a well-to-do Fox Chapel woman of a certain age who had been attending WordFest for the last six years in the hope of finding a publisher for a novel called Black Flowers, which every year she raveled and unraveled, Penelope=like, according to the contradictory whims and indications of a dozen half-interested editors .."

I've been doing tunes. I've been doing melodies. I've gone back to it," the kind composer said. "After doing atonal music for twenty years." I asked him what the equivalent of staleness to the point of witlessness in his field was, or whether, in music, such a thing exists. "Oh, yes," he said. "Pitch fatigue."

Organic perfumes
.. or when America's most beloved reactionary nerd - and baseball enthusiast - George Will called Don DeLillo's Libra "an act of literary vandalism and bad citizenship" (Will has since migrated to the "pro-war Democrat" camp alongside Robert Kagan, Max Boot, and Jamie Kirchick / not that it matters: the body count is the same at the end of the day ..).

Escape to Witch Mountain (1975)
GLOSSOLALIA's Julio is the sort of candy dimcuck figure like Bry-on in Wonder.., fromme which some of this stuff could be outtakes, ah do declare ..

Sybil (1976)
** "Wow, girl. You strong!" She was always impressed by Alyssa's capability of living life to the fullest and facing it head on. Platitudes. All been done, all been thought. She could only barely feel the love for her friend. She loved the snake more, slithering along minding its own business, not cutting down trees to build a parking lot.
What right does Alyssa have to live at the expense of a snake in a park? Why? Alyssa so cavalier about taking down one of Earth's creatures?
[ ... ]
She couldn't understand why she didn't care. In fact, she wasn't sure any of her friends really had a great need to live, as far as she was concerned. She found herself almost wishing the spider had bitten Julio so badly his arm would fall off from necrosis and he would die. Humans. Too many of them for the planet .. **

Candleshoe (1977)
the Nancy character is let's-say-fifty .. or late 40s if you want. Becky seems to be the High School just-into-college prequel (cue J. Phyllis Diller, "Fanfic as Host," hey !)
Wednesday, July 13th, 2016
8:56 am
CAUTION: Pokemon and/or Active Shooter in stairwell ..
[ have already shared my thoughts on this with Diane Marie: now i wish to share with YOU ]

the dividing line - with me, with Don DeLillo - is late 90s Underworld. for some readers it's his (cue Disowning the Past) evolutionary "crown." me? i feel like that alien in Stardust Memories : "You want to do mankind a real service? Tell funnier jokes."

in interview, the Author refers to his 70s stuff as "goofy," but - really - i love it absolutely (just coming off a re.read of 1982's The Names). why bury your strengths?

.. and have just got-around to DeLillo's first, 1971's Americana. it is, eh, somehow not quite what i expected, but precisely what i *want* / sort of a funnier, less somber Mad Men. and his career trajectory makes sense: the narrative rudder turned more predictably "writerly" the further he got from his roots. Advertising, i mean. another factor, i guess, was two of his favorite characters - Terrorism and the Trade Towers - got together, at last, IRL. like the time Laura Palmer's Killer was discovered, it kinda destroyed the dance/ruined the flirting. MAO II (1991) was his last great one and innit we find a reclusive author meditating on the fate of the novel, suggesting that its effects will be replaced by the specter of exploding jets and crumbling buildings (i could direct you to the page, but book's at home, okay?).

coming soon: the Caucasian wedding band fakepage i've been sitting on and .. D-ve M-nroe Memorial highlights, hey !
Wednesday, June 29th, 2016
11:03 pm
Cute Cat Critic
Our cat sister, Meow, and cat son, Kimba, review and occasionally read children's books or watch animations! A relaxing channel for cat lovers and fans of children's book or animation!

Saturday, June 25th, 2016
9:13 am
(by way of Brian Taylor of Canadia ..)
M. McLuhan writes to Eric Voegelin in 1953 (Part Two):
81 St Mary St
Toronto 5
Dear Voegelin,
Your letter was most gratifying. Over and over again I have written to persons who seem to be in good faith in adopting an attitude of objective analysis towards the sectarian activities of the cults in art and literature. Not once before your letter have I ever received a reply that displayed a frank or dispassionate mind. Very few people, I gather, are innocent of any hook-up with these cults and secret societies. They explain that nobody can get anywhere unless he is initiated. And this is strictly true.
I wish that 15 years ago I had known that it was impossible to get a hearing for one's ideas unless one was an initiate. Such being the state of Catholic culture on this continent, it has never occurred to me to seek a hearing among my fellow Catholics except in the class room. But in the past year or so I have changed my ideas on this matter. However, there is no hurry. And I don't suggest that had I known sooner that I would have become initiated.
It was only last summer, while doing some work on S.T. Coleridge that I discovered the complete rapport between the arts and the secret societies. I was flabbergasted. Coleridge has directed me to Porphyry, apropos of The Ancient Mariner. At the same time T.S. Eliot's essay on Byron had hinted at a hook-up between Byron's The Giaour and Coleridge. Those two bits of evidence served to ignite a great quantity of material which had lain about in my mind for 20 years. There were no more secrets. All was plain as day.
The entire technique of the "secret" societies is to conduct their controversies as if the terms of reference were historical. Historical scholarship and criticism (in the arts) is as much their field of present battle as the news, poem, play, novel, painting or musical composition.
I hardly know where to begin to suggest to you now the arts are involved in the theology of modern paganism. They are split East and West in a technical sense, of course. The West is Platonic-Eleusinian. Pound's entire prose work is an attack on Eleusinian mystery. Dante's Inferno XIV presents Eleusinian cult as "Enemies of God, Nature and art" under figure of The Old Man of Crete. Eleusinian cults permit Sodomy and usury and regard the arts not as a means of knowledge or vision but of strengthening the will. Matthew Arnold is ultimate version of this position in the arts. West is non-cognitive in art theory. But it claims to be rationalistic as opposed to irrational, emotional, primitivism of Romantic, Eastern art form. Everything represented by Romantic-gnostic use of emotions as "stained glass windows of the soul" -- i.e. single poem as single emotion, single emotion as means of connatural union with specific aspect of the Real. West prefers exoteric art form. Art is for common people. A form of deceit like the system of future rewards and punishment taught as basis of society in ancient world.
(You might very well find useful matter in Bishop William Warburton's Divine Legation of Moses. This 18th century work was a full-dress attack on the revived pagan cults of that period, and Warburton is mainly concerned with the Lesser and Greater Mysteries as the ground-plan of the subsequent Doctrine of the Double Truth. He has much incidental light to shed on the relation of Mysteries and the Arts.)
Eastern art (not in geographical sense merely) is relatively esoteric, cryptic, discontinuous. It sees not catharsis (see Matthew Arnold's preface to Poems 1853 and G.R. Levy's Gate of Horn section on catharsis in Aristotle) but illumination. Gnosis. The mind is to be flooded with a particular quality in experience (see Eliot's essay on Hamlet). Johnson The Alien Vision of Victorian Poetry (1951 or 50) gives a good account of the reason-emotion dichotomies in Victorian poetry.
But both East and West regard the arts as the highest level of practical religious experience. Art is the sole means of grace in our fallen state (see pp. 440 ff. of Warburton vol I ed. 1846) e.g. Ovid's Metamorphoses and Milton's Paradise Lost are popular histories of Manichean providence. Existence as fallen state can only be retraced to our previous paradisal condition by means of Ariadne Thread of art experience. The fanatic cult of art, East and West, is religious in inspiration and significance.
(Cassirer's Essay on Man distinguishes these East-West matters in terms of "epic" and "dramatic" modes of experience and art. Drama is discontinuous, dynamic. Epic is narrative and discontinuous [sic?]. Little epic of Alexandria represented direct presentation of East rituals. Same as Wasteland.
Wilhelm Meister is a ritual presentation under guise of educational novel. As such it has had 100s of imitations. See Howe -- W. Meister and His English Kinsmen.
W.B. Yeats says only art form possible for a Catholic since the Renaissance is satire. See Donne's 1st and 2nd Anniversaries as satires of solar cycle. Year daimon etc. See Alexander Pope's Dunciad as direct use of Masonic ritual as satire of the cults. And P.W. Lewis The Apes of God as satire of the cults in modern Bloomsbury. Entire esthetic of symbolists and of Joyce, Eliot, Pound is "East", Theosophical. Jane Harrison's Thomis excellent on daimon culture. But such books I had always read as merely archaeological accounts. Now I know that these matters are accepted as living Theological truths. Modern anthropology is a battle ground of the cults. In psychology Freud is West. Jung is East. In USA Republican theory and jargon is West. Democratic jargon is East. Pardon my haste and starkness of characterization. I'm really very tentative in my mind about these things though I sound dogmatic. In poetry I really know the ground in detail. But a person feels like an awful sucker to have spent 20 years of study on an art which turns out to be somebody else's ritual. To have studied it as an art is to have been taken in by the vulgar or exoteric facade.
For the gnostic there are no autonomies in art, life, politics or anything else. A Christian cultivates these things as particular disciplines having a limited importance. There are it seems, no such limits in the gnostic world. Everything is everything else.
When I said I wish I had penetrated these matters 15 or 25 years ago I meant that there are strategies which need to be adopted in these affairs. And I'm floundering at present.
A recent book on Melville's Quarrel With God by Thompson reveals the ritual diabolism followed quite mechanically in Melville's novels. Yes, it is the banal mechanism of the cult rituals which stares at one from literature and the arts. As for example in last section of the Waste Land compare with the rite of exorcism as managed in crystallomancy according to E.M. Butler's Ritual Magic (Cambridge Univ. Press 1949 p 245).
I would say apropos of Bergon's Deux Sources that (a) it is largely popularized stuff compared with the same doctrines in Rimbaud, Mallarme or Valery. Bergson looks amateurish in their company or that of Joyce. Eliot's prose repeats most of him. But, most of his ideas belong in an esthetic context from which he has not too skillfully extracted them.
Edward Sapir and Benajamin Lee Whorf are the most significant exponents of gnostic linguistic theory in modern anthropology. They have some remarkable insights.
Need I say that a great deal that is involved in gnostic speculation appears to me as quite valid? That it should flourish side by side with diabolism, the secret sectarian organization of intellectual life, and the falsification of the entire linguistic currency -- that is the deplorable thing. Secrecy and power seem to be intertwined. Also the very conditions of gnosis postulate secrecy, an Elite, and a vulgar who are to be swamped with lies. That the cynical contempt for the bulk of mankind should co-exist and even be expressed by fanatical assertions of universal benevolence, does not appear to them as disturbing. Thompson on Melville is best on this point.
Most sincerely yours,
Marshall McLuhan
Wednesday, May 18th, 2016
11:47 am
i don't remember what possessed me
.. to select a Joyce Carol Oates for my reading. she has .. fifty novels at this point? that's Zappian productivity. maybe that she went to such trouble? that i should, at least, spend time with one? in any case, found a product *relevant to my interests* : 2002's I'll Take You There. M_ss Lonely, a g-rl genius from some farm that if it were any further Upstate would be in Ontario, enters college .. "rushes" a Sorority 'cause she was raised among only brothers (and Kappa Gamma Fnord takes her in, as she might be induced to "help" with their academic work), falls in love with a man who WON'T BE LOVED, etc. etc.

and - as i sorta feared - it's good enough to get me curious about her other work (some fine, fine sentences / whole PARAGRAPHS even).

"At Syracuse, I haphazardly cobbled together a personality out of scraps; like my grandmother's quilts made of mismatched scraps of cloth. You don't inquire into the origin of scraps but only of the shrewd use of which they are made."

"I want you to know, Anellia, you're not new to me." He smiled at my look of confusion. I said, stammering slightly, "Not n-new? To you?" He said, backing off, "I saw you a while back. It was you. Scavenging in the garbage behind the Mohawk Bakery." Vernor laughed at my look of distress. How long he'd been waiting to tell me this, I would have to wonder. My face burned with shame, I had no defense.
"Hope you're not scavenging with me, girl."

current music: Red House Painters - "Medicine Bottle"
Wednesday, May 4th, 2016
11:47 pm
B I N G O(h! Sweet Nuthin')
"Morality is powerless to combat a dozen vices which are destroying society but for which there is no punishment - Another cup? - Upon my word, man is a clown dancing on the edge of a precipice. They talk about the immorality of Les Liaisons dangereuses or some book or other which has the name of a chambermaid for title, but there exists a horrible, filthy, frightful, corrupting book, always open and never to be closed: the great book of the world; and there's yet another book, a thousand times more dangerous, on whose contents consist of everything that men whisper into each other's ears, or that women murmur behind their fans, in the evening at the ball .."

ps/ https://bingobaker.com/play/639315
Tuesday, November 24th, 2015
11:36 pm
the story thus far ..
then French President Sarkozy - allegedly at the insistence of pimp/"public intellectual" Bernard Henri Levy - and Victoria Nuland of the U.S. State Dept. supported what was essentially a NATO/al-Qaeda coup in Libya, once the most prosperous nation in Africa. it soon became a playground for roving bands of Salafist mercenaries, some of whom would appear - with confiscated Libyan weaponry - in Syria.

Pepe Escobar has chronicled the beginning of the Syrian conflict: Assad agreed on a pipeline route with the leaders of both Iraq and Iran. thing of it is, Turkey and Qatar had a keen interest in a competing route that - potentially - would run through a post-Assad Syria. naturally, the early sponsors of the famous "Free Syria Army" were Turkey and the Gulf Monarchies (U.S. allies, hey !). but Syria's religious minorities - Christians, Alawites, Yezidis, etc - knew what these orgs were about - the "moderate al-Qaeda factions" and, later, the ISIS golem - and they backed Assad, a *secular* dictator, out of a natural sense of self-preservation.

since then, Russia has entered the mix, bombing Salafist mercenaries regardless of affiliation. and, sure, taking out ISIS supply routes from Turkey (and, presumably, the routes used by ISIS to send Erdogan oil). and since Turkey has been quietly annexing Syrian territory since the conflict began, a "Russian incursion" is not inconceivable. in any case, this would be a good opportunity for Russia to resupply the PKK. Erdogan, after all, is killing his own people in Southeastern Turkey / unless he considers the Kurds, like the poor Armenians before, not his people at all, but a pestilence to be eradicated ..
Thursday, October 22nd, 2015
1:46 am
Angel Carver Blues/EC-P1
1) Trade secrets and "proprietary information" (including inventions, special processes, marketing information, surveys, analyses, and financial data ..)

As early as 1955, Spindel was experimenting with the use of lasers to record conversations by "reading" the vibrations on windowpanes: a few years later he was using the same technology to make visual recordings.

(Infinite Jest meets the Gemstone File?)
"It wouldn't have been the first time that the future Chief Justice was linked to improprieties at the Justice Department. During his tenure as head of the Civil Division, he apparently participated in the legal cover-up that resulted when a tennis pro, hospitalized for depression in New York, was poisoned with a mescaline derivative in a secret Army experiment conducted without his knowledge or consent. It was Burger's signature on the letter to the man's survivors, masking details of the athlete's death, and preparing the way for a pitiful (and entirely unjust) settlement .."

Passive bugs don't need batteries, wires, telephones or transmitters. As a result, they are nearly impossible to detect. A bizarre variation on the theme is the toilet-bowl bug, proposed by the late Bernard Spindel, a master eavesdropper of the 1950's and 1960's whose career included more than 200 arrests or indictments for illegal snooping. Using Spindel's system, a spy on the roof of a building would place a microphone inside the air-vent pipe leading to the target toilet. Since the surface of the water in a toilet vibrates like a diaphragm in response to nearby voices, and since water is such an excellent conductor of sound, the voices would be carried up the pipe to the microphone.

Kotex Romney Slang: y rhan gyntaf
"It would be a simple matter to provide the Old Man with day-old copies of the Las Vegas Sun, day-old video tapes of Las Vegas television shows, and so on. I'm not saying this has happened. I doubt that anything so elaborate would be necessary. Howard Hughes could be in a hotel room on Mars, and so long as the television worked and the news came from Vegas, he'd have no reason to suspect that he was anywhere other than nine floors above the Strip. You have to realize, the Mormons controlled every input and output involving the Old Man. He never looked out the window. Time was meaningless."

/ that it's *possible* that both the "Clifford Irving scandal" (1972) and "the Gemstone File" (1975) were cooked up by those who kidnapped Hughes in 1970 (Intertel & the so-called Mormon Mafia), firing Bob Maheu. Why? to obfuscate, to confuse ..
Friday, October 16th, 2015
1:48 am
(thankesses to Erin !)

Did the Go-Go’s, in fact, have the beat?
Sondra's listening - in an old army jacket - to the Alice Cooper Show. goes through a few quarts of CHANGES in C'ville with the fun workshop couple on Water Street. comes back and, while THE MAGIC IS RECEDING (as magics do ..), she's busily hammering out a makeshift bridge, extemporaneous augments to Walkwhere, Whoknows.

(Jane Wiedlin)

How do you make an ersatz mandolin?
Irish bouzouki or unguided iron bomb?

a nice fit, i guess, as the Old Man ran a music store in Alabama .. before the Incident, before he had to go someplace else as someone else (hence, *creating a fake*). and once settled in his "new" "home," the laughs an' confusions keep-comin' all That Shakespearean Show : the Cultural Anthropology pest mistakes him for the (rumored) keeper of some ancient Matoaka town tune-hoard (preserved HOW exactly?) / or the Boy-that-used-to-cut-the-grass who is CONVINCED the Old Man (age 38, foax) is some Tandyn Wunderlick tier (vanished) RockStar makin' the nature scene. in any case, the last thing he wants to sell is one of the few instruments he salvaged (see Tom, Dick, or Harrell RUN .. with a sprain so smart it might as well be a break), a mandolin once belonging to Mistah Ted Hawkins. meanwhile ..

(I have to say this is one of the downright weirdest threads I ever participated in. Three times I asked what kind of neck joints were used on Gibson Army Navy's and the Flatiron pancakes. The silence has been deafening. What is this, some kind of secret forbidden knowledge? Do we have to learn the password and secret handshake before we find out?)

Fill in the blank for this analogy: Emilio Estevez is to dirty socks as Luke Skywalker is to ________.

(Montauk, the USS Eldridge, Preston Nichols, Smotherden Huggs, Echoes Myron, Earlyne Chaney, one-would-imagine some Flying [Irish] Chair ..)

If there were an Irish drinking song about you, what would it be called?
"Planxty Tim Gormless"

(yLost Bloo Cause ..)

Is your ability to flat-foot limited by your high arches?
Becky wanted to write this chapter herself, you know .. really put out there the Very Thing That Happened / while employing the nom-de-guerre (Bad.Bad) Ron ald-Mantle, fictascist tin magnate from Tintagel.

Sondra sets her up with dealer/running buddy Chris - "Russ will see you as dateable, potentially, see?" she (helpfully) explained. and it doesn't . work . out : 1978 winds down with Becky manufacturing a bizarre parody of what she thinks Sondra and Chris' (side) lives are about, e.g., DID YOU COP? .. only the most desperate and/or YOUNG are willing to even consider sub rosa transactions with the mercurial Chess Club president in the Betty Ford dress.

("From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit
Proceeds, unless restored by that refining fire
Where you must move in measure, like a dancer ..")
Saturday, August 22nd, 2015
1:50 am
Frankfort, KY: all the _ gestures
.. that in some respects the Novel is more forgiving than the short story. imagine a couple weak and/or unconvincing characters - let's say they don't conform to themselves. well, that alone is enough to sink a chort fiction. ah, but put 'em in a CROWD .. or amid some other microplots in which the rest is carried off relatively well / THAT is another pancake. recalling, eh, Already Dead by Denis Johnson (a stronger - for what it's worth - Mendocino County novel than Vineland). there's the *sense* that maybe it coulda wound down a wee bit earlier, made a tidier overall package / yet you kind of like the ending the Author gives you as well. it can go either way, really. a situation that bears .. family resemblance to a certain sound recording - say, the Beach Boys' 20/20 - that gives you all the old feeling, but is marred by ONE SONG / with a squawky guitar tone that makes your teeth hurt.

Whippi g Post
moved from Mark Kemp's Dixie Lullaby (far more satisfying than Greil Marcus' Invisible Republic, tho' apples and etrogs, i realize ..) to Larry McMurtry's Film Flam: Essays on Hollywood, which is turning out t'be - how you say? - "the very thing," hey !

Proposed flag of the coming volunteers of the North American Peoples Republics.
Colors take their inspiration from both the Vinland Flag and our own Green Star.
Structure of the flag artwork from the Novorossian and Confederate battle flags ..


[ KEYWORDS : nate mendel , quantum foam , miss richland 1959 ]
Tuesday, June 2nd, 2015
11:26 pm
Wyndham Lewis (Self Condemned, 1954)
'The word history is synonymous in the popular mind with something distant. When history gets so near to us that it hurts, naturally we no longer regard it as history - and then, the so-called historian, when his history is near-history, is far less free than when his material is a century away. Any unorthodoxy is deeply resented, especially if he occupies an offical position. Pressures are felt from all directions. All kinds of things are expected of him. He is supposed to conform to accepted views of every sort: more especially economic unorthodoxy is impossible. You are supposed to forget that the banks and great Insurance Companies exist: your view in all such things must be that of a child of ten years old. And as to wars (as to so senseless a crime as the World War), there you must speak of "anger of a great people demanding action". You must speak of governments giving way to popular clamour ("popular clamour" being the inflammatory banner headlines of the Daily Mail or the Daily Mirror): your history must sound not unlike an Armistice Day speech. You must turn no stones on the beach to see what is underneath them: you must adhere to the reality of the world of slogans, and you must never turn a slogan on its back ..'

Saturday, May 30th, 2015
8:45 am
(like a kid inna history store ..)
"The history of our century would not be one mainly of personalities (though, alas, they are there as ever). What we should see would be big, ideologic currents, gaudily coloured, converging, dissolving, combining or contending. It would look like a chart of the ocean rather than a Madame Tussaud's Waxworks; though there would be faces (one with a toothbrush moustache), like labels of one or other of the big currents of ideas. Then there would be the mountainous blocks of all kinds, as though raised up by an earthquake: there would be the piling up of tremendous inventions, their instant conversion to highly unsuitable uses: the criminality of man rioting in the midst of these unnumbered gadgets. Then there would be the growth, in every society, of the huge canker of Debt. In more and more insane proportions, the Credit System would be apparent, developing its destructive bulk. One would sense nebulous spiders, at the heart of wider and wider webs of abstract simulacras of wealth, suspended over everything: hordes of men engaged for years in meaningless homicide: and vast social revolutions as the culmination of a century of plots, and propaganda of brotherly love at the point of a pistol, and la haine créatrice. So there would be arabesques of creation and destruction, the personal factor unimportant, the incarnations of ideas, the gigantic coloured effigies of a Hitler or a Stalin, no more than the remains of monster advertisement .." (Wyndham Lewis, Self Condemned)

Tuesday, May 12th, 2015
11:35 pm
Electric Los Angeles Sunset
"I have a large unused canvas that I've been saving," she said rather obscurely. "What are you afraid of, Archer?"

Anna Vondelpark Gezindheid ..
(at a gallery upstairs in the NRV, an electronic music event. you would think Everybody playing Everything at once would be so much *noise*, but the grooves they interlocked like a Borodin Strang Quartet or a big Mingus piece. as it wound down promoters were hawking future games, some as steep as $450 and one curiously set for Saltville. "would you like a souvenir, meester?" the shurt with the shark motif looked promising. over by the door i saw one unlikely customer unfolding one on the table. is that Jenks? it don't mean one way or the other to me, right? so i'm having a closer look at this chark design/logo set on a field of BROWN, but Jenks wants/"needs" to "talk" .. delivers some Profound Statement on music, so i answer with several different - but pointed - renderings of "No." he leaves with heat and huff. it all gets summed up for Anna who, at first, is *sympathetic*, but soon - and understandably - grows tired. and here i recall Hila - a recovering CSW - bringing it Home: "what's the end game here?")
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