Blog Post #12 and #32

There is so much to say and so few capital letters in which to say it. Them. To say the things.

If you are in Baltimore and you haven't done it already, you should come to the release party on Saturday night. Rupert's book. Sweatpants. A couple other things that are more important than me.
Peter Cole will be there.

Last night I read a total of TWO POEMS at a school-sponsored open mic. I know, right? And yet: fun. There was BAD stuff and GOOD stuff. There was a line that went something like, "I have heard there is a pan that makes all corner brownies." That's by Lindsey Wittstruck.

Tom suggested I should title my book of poems, "Too Gay," and he's probably right.

Look for Too Gay at discerning bookstores.

One of the reasons I haven't been blogging is because there is too much to say, and now I'm not saying any of it. So maybe I am not blogging at all. Accordingly. Even now.

I am mentioned in the title of Blake Butler's recent blog post. What have you done lately? Last night after the poetry reading after the poetry reading after the poetry reading after the poetry reading I told Dr. Stephen Matanle he ought to teach Blake Butler's book EVER in his class called "Experimental Forms." This is a great class. I haven't ever even read EVER, maybe I shouldn't have suggested he teach it. I have preordered EVER though. The cover looks nice. Ha, hahahahaha, long story, nevermind. Here is what we read in "Experimental Forms" when I took it:

Other Electricities. Monson, A.
Vanishing Point. Markson, D.
In the Beauty of the Husband. Carson, A.
Collected Works of Billy the Kid. Ondaatje, M.
The Age of Wire and String. Marcus, B.
Blue Guide to Indiana. Martone, M.
What the fuck is that book by someone named John Somebody that is a fake history of celebrities like Marily Monroe and this guy was in NY Tyrant a while back?
I don't remember any of the others. There were more poetry books.

I've been feeling generally unhappy lately. 2008 is awesome because Barack Obama got elected. Before this year, there was never a black President of this country. I want you to know that in Liberia, after Charles Taylor was ousted, violently, by women like Black Diamond, there became a democratically elected Liberian president. It's a woman named Ellen Sirleaf-Johnson. She's like a Methodist. So you probably already know this, but I think she is awesome. I guess it's not strange that an African country would have a black president before the US. The US is a white country. White people started this country. Now no one pulls up their pants.

I was getting a coffee and I noticed a Christmas cookie next to the copier. The multi-function device. I bit it, it was gross, I just misspelled that as "groce," anyway I bit it and didn't like it so without thinking I photocopied it. I feel like if it was a true MFD I could have scanned it and uploaded it and shown you what I was talking about. If you want me to mail you the photocopy of the cookie, I will. Just comment that you want me to.

Anyway, 2008, FUCK 2008. I'm very upset about so many things that happened this year. However, life is generally awesome and there was a lot of good things that happened. Like what for example. My parents bought me a table that folds down really small. And a guitar. And a chair. Yesterday I cut myself shaving and I was mailing books and I dripped blood onto this chair and also onto a book and then I didn't send it. But I DON'T HAVE AIDS. Some people have it and I'm sorry about that, but I DON'T HAVE AIDS IN 2008. Hell yes. But that book went into the reject pile. If anyone wants a blood-dripped copy of EL GREED by David NeSmith they can have it for free. Comment!

By getting you to comment I will ensure your complicity.

I'm still drunk is the thing. And I'm at work. Tom made me feel better about my job when he pointed out to me that I don't have to do anything and suddenly I remembered that my desk is like, scientifically engineered to be the perfect height for comfortability, so I should feel PERFECT about getting to sit at it for 7 more hours.

When I was an adolescent I prayed that God would give me rhythm. You may laugh, but at the time I had no rhythm whatsoever. I was like Steve Martin in THE JERK. I was at a picnic table with my parents. We sat there and prayed that I would get rhythm. I'm being serious. I do not think I received rhythm yet, but in the next couple months I will receive EVER the book by Blake Butler. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands.

Last night after the poetry reading after the poetry reading and after we left the bar after the poetry reading after the poetry reading Joe and Kate came over to the pad and we put together books by Kathryn Regina. A sweet potato was microwaved with a high degree of deliciousness that you wouldn't understand. The words HOMOPHOBIC COMPOSER are written on my hand. This is another possible book title.

If Sean Lovelace could write one of his comparison posts about this post compared to someone else that would make 2008 slightly better. I know I said I wouldn't submit any more until our boys come home from Iraq but this is a little different, this is about blogging.

You know who should blog? Chris Toll. My man is SARDONIC.

What would be a good title for my book that uses the word "sardonic"? Sardonic Lobster?

Do you buy art?

Do you buy art?

Do you buy art?

I wanted to have sex with a person. You know what I'm talking about.

Do you buy art?

Do you buy art?

My face feels stale? Seriously. WTF, why does my face feel so weird? What did I drink? There is a tingling sensation all over my face and also all day so far I have been afraid to open my mouth because something died, went to hell, tuned Satan's violin, got kicked out of hell for having no rhythm, returned to my mouth, reanimated, shitted, brushed its teeth, got a phone call that their grandfather died in someone else's mouth and left my mouth to go to the wake and I'm afraid everyone will just think I have bad breath.

Ultimately it was just one bad thing that happened in 2008 (breaking up), but it was really bad. If I could undo it by learning the chords to "Give Me Another Chance" by Big Star, it would be undone because I learned those chords, all 22 of them. 22 chords in one song, beat that.

Too maudlin!

Do you buy art?

Too Gay

Here are my new favorite young writers, in specific but not ascending or descending or alphabetical order, I don't know if they are young:
Ryan Call writes with a great deal of care needs to do a novel
Matthew Simmons seems to write tender stuff really fast
Chris Higgs has unimpeachable taste and is actually smart
Chelsea Martin is like a girl guitarist like Carrie Brownstein because at first you think oh that's sexy even though she's gay and then you think wait something that's happening which is really good
Jimmy Chen is the fetchingest at HTML Giant
Sean Lovelace's blog posts always astound me I think he must be the best professor
No offense Justin Taylor you're smart too it's just someone said you're smart and that was a problem but I mean if you really were that smart it wouldn't be a problem

Here are some issues that I have, sorry
What the hell is a water troth? I think we're talking about a water trough. Did anyone ask this question? If you publish it like this, you cheapen everything, you make things worse I wasn't going to say anything sorry maybe it's smart, maybe it's asking a question maybe maybe but if so, did anyone say anything about it like in some forum or something because otherwise it's just a mistake EGREGIOUS by me rebuking this the world of literature is resubstantiated PEOPLE NEED TO SAY WHEN THINGS ARE BAD BECAUSE WE ARE NOT GOING TO DIE FOR A LITTLE LONGER SO LET'S MAKE THINGS AS GOOD AS POSSIBLE and errors will not be tolerated
What's my problem with Baltimore Is Reads? There are only like 8 people in it, why can't I post it? How hard can it be?
Molly Gaudry's headshot frustrates me
PR and Barry (sorry the comment frenzies overwhelm me)
2008
I don't think I like someone that I actually like
Right now someone is getting an MRI
Right now someone is . . . wait . . . breathing out for the last time
Right now someone is really mad that everytime he calls a girl he likes she is not available to hang out and if they make a casual plan to maybe hang out later okay I'll call you and he does call she doesn't answer the phone fuck that fuck it straight in the ass
Talk about James Frey, I don't want to
It's interesting though
In 2003 and 2004 I was a diligent blogger. Sometimes I was in a "blorgic frenzy" Adam Kotsko said. I wrote about Bruce Springsteen in complete sentences.
Now I feel like I'm ripping someone off because I'm not writing right. By being original I feel I am not being original. I would feel more original if I put this into paragraphs.
David NeSmith, his new chapbook of drawings is pretty much ready to be released. I'm trying to time it.
Oh shit I have to finish a paper.
My face my face
I don't buy art but I pay for art that I don't buy.
So much is worthwhile let's make sure these things are valued
Valued by whom
Who cares about people