Sunday, March 28, 2010

Sans Nichts ('tea parties are for chumps' excerpt)

"I fear I am becoming less tangible. A kind of idea of someone else, as a character; I know this is probably definable as some kind of mental illness," he paused. The Doctor had those ever waiting, wet, glistening eyes. The Doctor never should any sign of being in agreeance or otherwise, he was a poker player, there was never a cue to continue or stop, just a presence, so he continued, "I'm just not sure I should be,” be tried to find the right words, “I’m not sure that… I don’t know, I’m just not sure.” Without warning there was change: he was in a food court, possibly in a shopping centre, maybe at a major train station, its familiarity was vague. Samantha sat opposite him: deadpan. “We all feel like that sometimes,” she comforted, "do you wa-" she never finished her sentence: he found himself lying in his bed, the switch from vertical to horizontal made his head spin.

He had an electric taste in his mouth. The insides of nose felt wet. The kind of low-immunity 'wet' you feel after staying up all night, a kind of 'running-yourself-ragged' feeling. He over-analyzed his physical state. He began too much of his internal monologue with 'He'. He felt dizzy. He was dizzy. He closed his eyes.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Ginger Locked Locks Look Ginger

You flirt with lines from childrens animated movies. She doesn't get the references. Your girlfriend likes me better. Smile, shuck, groove on down doobey-town. I'm towing good times, haulin ass cross section mega-election. It's not right unless it's all bright. Bright as bright can be. Bright as bright can be, clever man. Cleave the fabric from the cleavage you cleft of gentleman. Gen-teel man of real, hammer steal. Look at you.

Umber Modesto highway waiting fer shy ta wane, bumpin' along a wain slow and steady pu-ulled by tut-turtles. Move quick Laser Lad, how's that focus? Wearing yet? Undressing set? Take a turn, Cool Breeze. There are many things I'd like to say to you, but I dont know how: play coy, insert coin, buttons stick, (video game innuendo rhetoric.)

Monday, March 22, 2010

The Happiest a Man Can Be.

"The happiest a man can be is in a hot shower with a glass of gin and vermouth on the rocks, masturbating furiously to a fellatio-cum-ejaculation variety clip video with heavy metal playing over the top of the videos soundtrack. Not every guy is into heavy metal but despite musical preferences, you understand what I'm saying."

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Sans Nichts ('from toasting to roasting to served' excerpt)

He turned to his father, "Who are you, Galvanderstein?"

I don't think that I have ever dealt with any situation the same way twice. Okay-okay-okay, I know (KNOW) that no (NO) two situations are ever COMPLETELY the same so of course every 'Handeling' is going to be different, but, let us be disgustingly human and average 'situations' out.

The call with the Editor went something like this:

"I'm not saying its bad, I just feel like you're falling a little shy."
"Be more obvious?"
"Well, no. Yes. I... I can see, I get it: You have this storyline-"
"Not a 'storyline', just a 'line'-"
"-right, so you have this 'line'-"
"-yeah, and there's people, characters, situations, that hint at, hint at, the, the big cruxs of our existence-"
"-yeah-okay, 'exist-stance', but-but you're not Camus, you don't throw it all out in front of the Reader, you're not Vonnegut, Shakespear, Kafka, Burroughs or Kerouac. You just kind of meander on the edge, no, not even on the edge, you just meander NEAR the edge, looking at it from a safe distance, not from it, you just dish out the story, uh I mean the 'line', the Writing, it's this half-interested, apathetic, wa-"
"I don't want the Reader to rape it."
"Rape it?! The Reader 'reads' the work, they're not raping an-"
"All those examples, Writers, all those Writers, they all put it, their story, all 'out' for the Reader, and what they put out ARE stories. I don't want the Reader to feel over the Words with their eyes, chew it all up with their heads and make their own 'little' sense of it."
"Then wh-"
"I don't want it, the line, the work, to exist parallel to the Reader, to be an equal, I don't want it to be consumed."

Just like that, every thought about THIS, here, now, you, these words, the Reader, the Writer; all knew their place in what is and all were content BUT:

"So, you're not changing it? Because we really can't use it the way that it is now, in its current form."
"Listen: how about I fax you a play I wrote today. It might be more to your, and the Readers' liking."
"What's it called?"
"Does it matter?"
"I'm just asking. You're being needlessly difficult an-"
"It's called: 'The Curious Incident when Nothing Occured and No One was Surprised'"
"(sigh)... Oh-fine, fine, just-just send it through, I dont care and can't be bothered with your games anymore."
"Characters that have dialogue which clearly expresses what they're thinking and feeling is lazy writing."

Goodbyes were exchanged and the phonecall was mutually over. The Writer faxed the play 'The Curious Incident when Nothing Occured and No One was Surprised' through. the fax read as follows:

'The Curious Incident when Nothing Occured and No One was Surprised'
(A play in three parts.)
PART I: There was a Curious Incident.
PART II: Nothing Occured.
PART III: No One was Surprised.
The End.

Five minutes later the Writer received a fax in response to his three part play. The response read as follows:

"It's a good way to end the chapter."

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Interview Projects, 2002, June (a)

Interview Projects, 2002

"Today I started writing what I hope will end up being a sequence of poems, a sequence? A-ah... a list? Probably more a list, 'list' is probably the best, umm way to describe them because each one is going to be, each poem is going to be an item, so to speak, and as a whole, the poems are going to be like an inventory."

"One problem I've found at the moment is that I don't know any strangers, and, okay, that doesn't make much sense, what I mean is when you read something, if you know the person, you read it and you feel like you know so much more than is on the page, you start drawing all these connections, and in truth, the person is, for the most part just writing, the audience or whoever is going to read it is probably the last thing they are thinking about, or at least I feel that way, for example when I read something, I don't think the author is writing about me, that'd be insane, they don't even know me. Sometimes I can relate to an author but its definitely not the same. I guess I'd like to be able to get strangers to read stuff, get peoples opinions who are reading without knowing or bringing things in from their relationship with me."

"I'm almost finished this short story I started a little while agowhich kind of just sat on my computer for the longest time unfinished but I think it's almost done now. I kind of tried to write from small or rarely felt emotions, like the anger that might okay between two people that love eachother, like a parent and a child or two people in a romantic relationship, but without drawing, or trying not to anyway, draw anything from my own experiences. It ended up being balls but it was enjoyable."

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Sans Nichts ('Ima Gawd' excerpt)

Ima Gawd, Jerry Lewis, go ahead, assemble the team. Locking together forthwrite-amber sprite: The Incredible Shrinking Man, Virginia Woolf, Michio Kaku, Alexander the Great, MF Doom, Voltron and the Trix Rabbit.

Cut to dream sequence of team assembling. This is shown as they both organically merge (their skin melting/growing into each other like liquid) and mechanically merge (their surfaces dividing into cubes of different sizes, revealing clockwork beneath which reconfigures, and moves on pistons)

NOTE: call Michael Bay and Orko to see if they can help out with actual multiple human assembly.

CUTSCENE: Everyone works together. Except Trix. Trix is a rabbit, not a human, and therefore not a team player, and therefore does not work with rest of the team and therefore is not allowed on the team anymore, and therefour is kicked off the team. Silly rabbit, teams are for humans.

FLASHFLOOD: Excess H2O. 1500 (fifteen hundred die).

NEWS REPORT: Flash flood. 1500 (fifteen hundred die).

Ima calls on the batphone. Ima Gawd. How the effe did effen' Ima call on the batphone? Is Ima in the batcave? Did Ima hax the phoneline? Ima tells me how Ima predicts the chapter ends. Ima ends up being rite.

Monday, March 8, 2010

The Disciples Denial of The Christ for all that is Holy comes from the Denial of Desire

(le'T mIe T'yell y u o, Soh-oh-oh you kn ow, i kn oh shees youhng/(o), sh ese newbiLe, claen, tIeght sCK in nned And fooll o' ad mireation But Le t , l eEts slohw d ow n son, sl ow oh oh w down son)

"thats two texts today"
"yeah, I think shes coming round"
"Its a mistake though"
"Its not anything"
"It would be"
"Anything can be mistake"

Then between electric flashes his skein crawls, caterpillar crawl, the trailer trawl, across, slurpable supple: its an anti-antiquated lecture drawl.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

A portrait of the Artist as a Young Man as a Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.

Sans Nichts ('push pull' excerpt)

Winning an argument in public space against a stranger has come down to being straight out insulting to your adversary, it’s the Social Buffer and years of polite societal programming that insure (no, not ensure) victory. Did you know the name Saul comes from a Latin word which means ‘little’? Not sure if they were referring to height, capacity or length, if you know what I mean. Wink-wink, nudge-nudge. You know what I mean. I’m sure you do, the guy has the kilo’s, so he’s probably slightly stunted. Don’t even get me started on ‘Trent’: it was originally an Aramaic word for ‘weevil penis’. Okay. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe, I’m telling you stories, Frenchie. Sure fits though, darn’t it?

I'm not going to give you any reasons, I aint got any, do I?

The writers, in duality, the both, the two, the plural, walk into a wallll (fo(u)r L’s); one has to go home to a endereing wife, the other has to go home. The problem with Love (capital Elle, thanks Ellie) isss that it isss (triple ess hisses) electric AND requires conductors, (I’m speaking of both types of coarse: something it can travel along akin to a track, and also a grand overseer, someone to organize, direct and orchestrate). I abhour th e two of them, their lecherous control over the creative formation of an otherwise slimpery yolk. Their pattying of fingers on keys, little lifetime decision m4k3rs.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

The pubic hairs had been a gift from his genes when he turned twelve. Had it not been for the boost of hormones he may not have been able to bludgeon the savage dog in the head with a rock later in the year. It was the first living creature he had ever kill in order to protect himself.

When a dog tells you 'its over', it doesnt know the meaning of soft tones. When a dog makes a threat, it does not curtsie.