Beach Sloth

Letters From Robots by Diana Salier

2012-03-11T20:04:00.000-04:00

Diana Salier is cool as heck. She writes for Banango, some literary blog. She went on a book tour for ‘Wikipedia Says It Will Pass’. Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle and Portland were visited. This was a ‘West Coast’ tour. Hopefully she can tour around the East Coast next time. During this time she also started up a rock and roll band called ‘Swells’. I assume she got the name either from the ocean’s swelling or as homage to the Post-Punk band ‘Swell Maps’ a personal favorite of mine. Guess I’m a little too old for that. My band is an Emo Post-Crabcore Bleepy Bloop band. Basically we’re a Crystal Castles cover band. It is nowhere as cool as Salier’s band was (RIP January 2012).

‘Letters from Robots’ is her newest work. The book comes from outer space to land in San Francisco. She suffers from loneliness and wistfulness. The present offers little once she’s arrived back on Earth, then she waxes nostalgic of old relationships in ‘how to fight nostalgia’. She chooses astronauts to focus on, themselves something of a relic. What interests me is how after she’s landed on Earth she’s still lonely.

Travels throughout the book to other parts of Earth, Montreal, New York, and Los Angeles have the same feeling. All these people and she never speaks to them. They occupy spaces she’ll never know, apartments, random bars, used book stores, etc. It is the best description of people watching I’ve ever read. ‘People Watching’ is the ideal sport: funny but sad with absolutely no way to win. ‘i was hoping to massage you all day’ shows this art at its best. At least she got one of the few prizes of people watching: nonsensical utterances that make no sense.

This is actually a funny look at our world. Her humor is from unfortunate and silly situations. Consumer products come in as a way of mapping out her world. Sometimes these happen in the same poem, like ‘there are many beautiful things in this world but this is one of them’ which mentions a Cookie Monster band aid, a drug deal, and an astronaut looking down at an Earth that continues to exist without him. A few instances are particularly memorable. I agree, “Fuck the LSAT diagnostic test”.

A few poems mention the end of the world on 12/21/12. People make plans for this sort of thing. It is never taken seriously. Normally end of the world parties are devoted to drinking and hooking up with people. I figure when the end of the world happens we should probably be surrounded by drunken, loved ones. Seems like the best way to go to me. Diana has the same idea. Even for lesser catastrophes she makes plans to reunite with girlfriends.

Nostalgia comes up a lot in the book. It takes the form of astronauts, misunderstood aliens, dinosaurs, reformed movie monsters and avocado sandwiches. Pop culture references add to the feeling of nostalgia from Top Gun and Jeff Buckley. The media becomes part of our lives. We are nothing without our pop culture references. These references are used in an affectionate manner. One of them directly acknowledges the importance of nostalgia in modern pop culture ‘nostalgia and fruitflies’. Apparently styles haven’t changed much in the US in the past three or so decades. Wonder why that is. Perhaps we are glass half-empty types or maybe that’s what it feels like lately.

I like ‘Letters from Robots’ a lot. The combination of sweetness of the past and hesitant hope for the future feels just right.

The Dwindlers – Allegories 7.5

2012-03-09T00:18:00.000-05:00

Everything is calm and quiet. The Dwindlers don’t believe in being loud. Rather they use the calm sound to their advantage. ‘Allegories’ sounds clean. You can hear the tiniest detail on here. It has a jazzy quality to it. That’s due to the cello, the tasteful use of electronics, and the controlled power of the vocals.

‘How the Ostrich became a Girl and her Bicycle’ remains my favorite piece on the whole album. It longs. That far-off piano compliments the general mood of the piece. Far more than any of the other pieces, this embodies a certain cool, detached reflection. It’s truly a beautiful, simple piece. Even the cello sounds wistful. It barely builds up. Instead it simply lingers around a comfortable groove.

‘Monkey’ is one of the more active pieces on here. Drumming introduces the piece as the vocalist appears to keep time. Her delivery on here sounds particularly good. The cello appears to anchor the entire song. It is surprisingly fast for the album and comes closest to a traditional pop song.

By the end of the album things sound more electronic. Tempos begin to increase. The whole album sounds excited. It speeds giddily into the finale ‘Dolphin’. On ‘Dolphin’ the cello and electronics merge into one as the piece comes to an end.

Nothing on here is particularly complicated or overly ornate. It is the combination of these small details that makes the whole album so soothing.

Beach House – Myth

2012-03-08T20:44:00.001-05:00

There’s serious tension going on in Beach House. I don’t mean the slow, gradual builds and delicate pop craft. No, I’m talking literal tension. Members in the band have been having difficulties for quite some time. From the outside it looks like ‘Dream Pop’. Inside Beach House it looks like ‘Nightmare Pop’.

Poor Alex Scally has to deal with terrible abuse. Victoria Legrand mocks him relentlessly. Referring to Alex as ‘a bearded alt bro’ she tears him apart. If he argues she goes to Wikipedia. She asks him “Oh, you think you’re important, who is the one with an additional Wikipedia article? Who is defined as ‘sultry’ and ‘elegant’? I’m from France. You’re from some third rate piece of garbage called ‘Baltimore’. Who gives a shit about Baltimore? Now get busy making that guitar a little quieter.” He complies most of the time.

On the new song ‘Myth’ the dynamic changes from Victoria based to Victoria based, but with a little Alex. Alex started getting a little testy. He had begun bothering Victoria with his passive aggressive puns on popular lyrics. The most effective one was ‘you will, forget about me, I’ll be alone, playing guitar so quietly’.

Despite this tension the rumors remain that the album ‘Bloom’ will be their best album. They are channeling this intense dislike of each other through the music. People respond well to album made during ‘trying times’ and what could possibly be more trying than Victoria hiding Alex’s vegan sunflower seeds? Not much, I’ll tell you that.

I’m not sure how Pitchfork will like their newest album. Their last album got a 9.0. Beach House is having a hard time trying to beat that score. In fact, all of their scores show an upward progression, from 8.1, to 8.5, to 9.0. To outdo themselves, they’ll need to pull an Animal Collective ‘Merriweather Post Pavilion’ album on their audience, creating the ultimate summer jam.

Here’s hoping they do.

Round of Applause // Baby Make that Ass Clap by Mike Kitchell

2012-03-08T19:25:00.000-05:00

Let’s start with the brass tacks. I would have loved some of those in this chapbook. Brass tacks improve any reading experience. No binding materials or even a single mention of brass tacks anywhere in the chapbook. Despite this obvious problem this is a solid, enjoyable, and rather dark chapbook. We traverse the tortured mind of one Mike Kitchell.

‘Someone has just fired a gun at me and I am going to die’ is bit of a downer poem. If you’re about to die why not be a bit more positive about it. An unchill bro asks you to describe the bullets. I don’t understand why they want to know so badly. This is a great poem. Mike starts off the chapbook right. As a tribute to his dark poem let me offer my personal take on it, from a more positive point of view. It is entitled:

‘Happy Fun Time’

The optimist’s guide to getting shot in the face

Oh nifty, I’m getting shot in the face

By golly, I’m going to make a darn fine corpse

Hope my brains are used for pencil erasers

Saw that in a movie once

Seems relevant

‘True Story’ goes over the late capitalist landscape of the desert. I wonder how the desert was created. I’m certain socialism destroyed society and replaced it with a desert. Now that it is too late to do anything about it people seek out a b-movie preacher. The b-movie preacher lost his job due to the rough economy, or the total collapse of the economy. What I object to is all Christian rock being created equal, specifically ‘chord progressions that fit within the schema of a lifestyle that never holds excitement’. Two words I say: Danielson Famile. They are weird as heck. By the end of the poem at least things get a bit happier thanks to the satanic lifestyle.

‘Room’ deals with impregnating houseplants. It is a fun poem. Irina Ionsesco is a French photographer. She takes pictures of Mike in the poem, or rather; she would if he was a bit more erotic in his plant insemination.

The chapbook ends on a happy note. It seems cheerful. As I read this particular piece I wanted to be these people. They appear to have it all. They live in a hotel, a place I’ve never been to before. Normally when I travel I sleep under the stars, up in a tree. Forget hotels. You don’t pay a thing if it has a swing (swings are normally found on many trees in North America).

Mike Impossible does the impossible. His poems are filled with plenty of people I had to Google. With each poem he expanded my mind little by little. I like his use of repetition in many of these poems. Upset by the lack of ‘ass-clapping’ in this chapbook. Despite this flaw it is a strong collection.

Ghost Lake - Late Spring Morning Sunlight EP 8.0

2012-03-08T11:36:00.000-05:00

I like the complete sweetness of Ghost Lake. There’s a sense of childlike wonder in each track. While I go through these tracks over and over again I adore it. I think of a less stuffy version of Four Tet. Each piece discovers new pieces, sounds, and methods. While there is this exploration of new tender sounds it remains firmly pop.

‘Late Spring Morning’ gives off a very Four Tet feeling. The hand claps, sweet lyrics, and simple guitars all come together in a giant ‘let’s feel good about ourselves’ moment. It reminds me of biking on a sunny summer day. That’s where the EP title comes from. The title matches up with the emotions. Positivity is all over this EP. It glows with pure joy. Even the saddest songs (like the insanely titled second track) still have a certain hope to them.

My favorite track on here is ‘Music’. This reminds me of ‘The Mountain Goats’ for some reason. It is extremely catchy. How the sound builds up with a chorus is particularly wonderful. When it finally reaches the end I wish they would repeat themselves a bit more, to turn it into a mantra. ‘All I care about is music’ should go on for a full minute. There’s so much energy behind it I want to hear this repeated on and on. Or maybe I feel this way because it is true to me.

Ghost Lake knows what it’s doing. I can’t wait until late spring. On this EP they capture the hope of early morning.

Guillaume Morissette’s Accomplishment Chart.

2012-03-07T21:03:00.001-05:00

I think Guillaume needs to make a goddamn chart for his own accomplishments. These charts are wonderful. First they were on his infinitely excellent website. Next they migrated like birds to hotter climates, like Alt Lit Gossip. Now he has done it. Guillaume is in the ‘major leagues’ of alt lit flowcharts. HTML Giant, home to all things wonderful and awful, has his latest flowchart out.

Beneath the giant flowchart is a rare thing: an explanation. All these flowcharts and only now does Guillaume reveal his past life. Nobody is born into alt lit. One chooses the alt lit lifestyle. The allure of making zero dollars and posting funny things online is too great. Guillaume used to design video games before finding his alt lit muse. Or maybe he started doing it before he quit his job to be a full time alt lit contributor, much like myself. Whatever the reason, it is good to have him here, giving us a flowchart for life.

Hemingway goes first. He had a desire to be respected, admired and obeyed. Weirdly Guillaume left out his ‘beer promotion’. I think beer promotion is perhaps Hemingway’s greatest accomplishment, at least behind most of his books. Going down the line one sees Hemingway got depressed due to all that death surrounding him. Unfortunately Hemingway’s plans towards the end of his life grew a bit unrealistic. Not sure what killing an infant Owen Wilson would have accomplished. It probably would have resulted in a lack of ‘Rushmore’ as a film. That sounds depressing.

Basho had a sad life. So did Jean Rhys. Jean Rhys questioned happiness. That led to her being unhappy. Don’t question happiness. Happiness doesn’t respond well to questions. Simply let it be. Embrace the happy. Trying to figure out happiness is impossible.

We get to the ‘currently living’ group of people. Thomas Pynchon (a personal favorite of mine) gets the spotlight. He’s a pretty old writer. When he began his career he focused on hamsters, oddball names, and paranoia. As he got older he focused on hamsters, oddball names, and paranoia. Feel glad he disappeared from public view. I consider him as a source of inspiration for my own anonymity online and offline. To those I’ve seen read and have not introduced myself to: I am sorry yet I am simultaneously not sorry.

Tao Lin ends the list. Not in a literal sense, more in a ‘he has so much to live/not live’ for. Guillaume has some fun with Tao’s lifeline. Tao Lin is younger than the rest of the writers and full of what is commonly referred to as ‘life’. I like Guillaume’s usage of Jimmy Chen’s photoshop art of a morbidly obese Tao Lin. I want his comeback novel to be from the point of view of his penis. If Tao Lin wrote a book from the point of view of his own penis it might be a ‘hard’ sell but he could probably ‘pull’ it off, leading to ‘exploding’ sales.

I like Guillaume’s work. Happy to see he is bringing together many different commenters on HTML Giant, no mean feat. Could Guillaume win the ‘end the bitchy attitude on HTML Giant’ award? We’ll see.

Reader Beware: It’s about to get crazy up in here

2012-03-07T19:45:00.000-05:00

America was built by jerk offs. Not just ordinarily jerk offs, but extraordinary jerk offs. The kind of jerk offs people would look to and admire. Quietly (or loudly) they’d say ‘there goes a total jerk off’. A few jerk offs have helped to run this country. Such proud jerk offs like Ronald Reagan, George W. Bush, and Martin Van Buren worked hard to make this country the land of the jerk off.

‘Kick out the Boner Jams’ celebrates the art of the ‘Circle Jerk’. The circle jerk is a time honored tradition where a bunch of men cum together. Jerk offs don’t care where or when they jerk off. It could be behind a 7/11. It could be after a long, throbbing day at work. Really it can be anywhere. That’s the beauty of the jerk off. Never before have I seen such tasteful treatment of an oftentimes vulgar and maligned art form.

‘Transylvanian Circle Jerk’ has a rhyming scheme reminiscent of a 50s doo-wop song. I like the joyful mood of these monsters. Daniel Shapiro shows how monsters can get along through the lost art of the circle jerk. Dracula and Frankenstein solve their problems in this poem by ejaculating in front of each other. Maybe we could end wars through circle jerks all that pent up rage just let out. ‘Circle Jerk USA’ reminds me of a long-lost Beach Boys track; back when they did simple surf ditties. Glad that after you die you can jerk off behind a convenience store.

Susie Swanton writes about dead boners in ‘Ants on my boner’. Though she is dead she has a boner for you. It seems extremely affectionate. I’m also glad there’s a female writer in this collection. Otherwise it may seem a bit male masturbatory. Her female perspective is a key element here. Both of her poems are rather forceful. The second one ‘Poke a Hole in your Butt’ even incites forms of violence, through butt hole poking.

Mason Johnson ends it with the non-controversial ‘Virgin Mary Cum Stain’. It goes over finding Jesus in a grilled-cheese sandwich. But there’s one place the narrator finds God. It is in the sleaziest of places. Religious types may get offended. I say whatever gets more people to church is in your benefit. If it happens to be through this, so be it. Take what you can get.

Glad to see this is Volume XXII. Happy to know there are at least twenty one other editions of ‘Kick out the Boner Jams’. Bring a tear to my eye knowing alt lit supports circle jerks.

Edward Appleby - The City (Waiting for the Inevitable Disaster) 7.6

2012-03-06T23:21:00.000-05:00

Ah yes, I am well aware of Edward Appleby. Thus far I encountered two of his holiday-themed EPs. This is the first full length album I’ve heard. It is an epic one, not in terms of length (it is a normal 50 minute or so piece) but in number of instruments used. One moment you’ll hear a calm piano, next you’ll be subjected to a sudden surge of synthesizers. Drum machines come out of nowhere. Or you’ll suddenly get introduced to low key acoustic guitars and violins. It is a varied listening experience, with so many different styles, twists and turns thrown.

It starts up with ‘No, We Really Couldn't Have’ which reminds me of the beginning of ‘Little Miss Sunshine’. It has the same amount of anxiety and worry. Most of the album displays anxiety. Everything, every little part of the album appears to be worried. There are little parts that appear to try to calm things down, like ‘I want to see you’ which feels a bit too short to me. I actually really enjoyed this particular track. Other little parts emerge trying to calm frayed nerves. All the shorter tracks (under three minutes) are generally the sweetest, most stable tracks. One of them ‘Western Expanses’ reminds me strongly of Jon Brion’s soundtrack work.

Edward Appleby is ambitious. This album really sprawls into everything. It is an anxious, sweet, beautiful, oftentimes lovely album. In other words, it’s human.

When to Be Afraid by DJ Berndt

2012-03-06T21:05:00.000-05:00

DJ Berndt is the original alt lit booster. He boosts when no one is around. Pangur Ban Party is one of his main boosting grounds. IRL is another boosting ground. This weekend his boosting ground was Chicago. He gave a well-received reading.

The short story ‘When to Be Afraid’ shows us a new side of DJ Berndt. ‘When to be Afraid’ is a dark tale about the relationship between two brothers. It begins in the forceful way possible.

“My brother was six years older than me when he stopped getting older.”

Slowly the brother’s many positive attributes are listed. His love of life, desire to create, knowledge about the stars above, and generally being a good brother are read off, one by one. This feels less like a short story and more like an informal talk with a friend. I like the casual tone of the piece. We are listening to DJ Berndt speak about his brother. The party’s ended and we’re interested in each other, wanting to know where everybody came from. So DJ begins.

His brother got sick. No longer did he have a specific age. Instead due to his illness he experienced a stasis, an inability to grow. DJ kept on living a normal life, trying out for the basketball team, getting acne. The typical things that DJ experienced are interwoven into his older brother’s life. While DJ continues to have a life his brother gets worse. His brother read books, thinking he’d be blind soon. Before he becomes blind he wanted to absorb as much knowledge and information as possible.

College goes normally for DJ. He loses his virginity. Losing your virginity seems chill. That kind of thing normally happens in college. His brother doesn’t experience this joy. No, part of the sadness of the whole piece is how his brother can’t experience these normal things. So while DJ experiences a normal life his brother wallows in the basement, growing more isolated and alone. DJ receives some support and advice from his increasingly distant brother in the form of a slingshot. The brother tells him to use the slingshot to ward off the darkness which is everywhere.

Finally the brother stops aging. The parents go downstairs and look at all the braille books he collected. Neither one understood why he collected them. The brother had twenty-twenty vision. DJ’s parents try to put themselves together. They do. They call the local Association of the Blind to try and find out what the books say.

This is a powerful, compact piece. DJ Berndt is more than an alt lit booster. He is a writer. This story is a beautiful piece about the encroaching darkness and when to be ready for it.

no, i can’t drive and i won’t learn by Sian S. Rathore

2012-03-06T19:14:00.000-05:00

Sian S.Rathore has come out with her first chapbook. The alt lit community has eagerly anticipated this event for quite some time. She is an editor of the prestigious Metazen. Lately more of her contributions are in the ‘Screaming Seahorses’ series, a series out every month. With this chapbook (which is rather dense) she embodies the helplessness of the title page’s character, a Diglet (from Pokémon) stuck in a tree not needing salvation, simply relaxing with his upturned car.

The 7 AM deadline looms large in the first page. A number of reasons come up. First is the coughing. Next up is the panic attack held at a local Supermarket. Shoppers were unaware of this panic attack because it was unscheduled. Pillows and bombs intermingle. It reminds me of the love-bomb foretold by one Terre Thaemlitz.

What does Sian want? She tears apart the question. People never want the same things every day. To do so would be positively absurd. Answering her science teacher with a dignified answer is equally absurd. Her boyfriend doesn’t need an answer now anyway.

A letter describes a time in a dream. The dream can also depict reality. It depends on the perspective of the reader. She lives next to a lake. Every piece of nature can be equated with the joy of being human. Algae are her skin. She goes underwater. I like the cold and numbness of her body’s state. That’s a particularly pretty description though horribly bleak. Behind this letter is a trippy Animal Collective-esque background morphing slowly. Either that or my eyes are getting worse.

Summer comes along. The seasons do move forward in this book. We were in the freezing cold of the lake. I’m glad it is summer out. Summer consists of people tearing out their hearts. I think they are called ‘Summer Flings’. I can’t think of a more literal depiction of this than someone literally tearing their heart out and flinging it at someone.

Unfortunately death lurks all around us. Before it was the freezing water and cold numbness but now it is a squirrel. The squirrel is totally dead. I am glad she dragged me through the mulchy streets. Summer has become fall.

The next part is simply a list. Alvin Lucier gets a shout-out through the line ‘I am sitting in a room different from the one you are sitting in now’. Maybe I’m wrong. I doubt it though. For in the next line she discusses how music sounds like people talking. I agree. That is why I listen mostly to instrumental music. I like to interpret music myself. I do not enjoy having someone sing meaning to me. For more information about instrumental music, check out online universities that can teach you all about some of the greatest instrumental compositions from Aavikko to Zyxx.

A cute puppy wearing a leather jacket represents the brutal loneliness of life. It is smiling. On the inside that dog is dead. It knows how pointless life truly is. Sian knows this too. That’s why she watches deeply disturbing GIFS of dogs fucking. I am not sure why she does.

The ending is beautiful. It basically brings together all the lonely aspects into one piece. With so much of our life being hidden, clothed, it is sad to be naked alone. Some people find it liberating. But to be liberated it seems one must be alone. Wish it didn’t have to be this way.

Sian moves through seasons. She moves through relationships. The chapbook is short and precise. I enjoy the flow of the book. Despite its sometimes sad nature, it feels hopeful. The last line ‘doesn’t have to change anything’ is the best. We don’t have to change anything. Most of life is made up not of any dramatic event but a slow and carefully collected consciousness, much like what we saw in the preceding pages. It is these small events that affect us the most.

Selebrities – Night Heat 7’ 7.2

2012-03-06T13:57:00.000-05:00

Ah yes, Selebrities have come back to me. They brought out a great album in 2011 and now they’re back. Don’t worry all those 80s influences are here. Guitars sound like Reagan. Synthesizers are back in a big way, perhaps even more prominent than before. Plus they appear to be using more effects for the songs.

‘Night Heat’ brings back Maria’s wonderful voice. It sounds cryogenically frozen in the early 80s. The guitar sounds strong on here. Even the drum appears to have been lifted out of some cheesy late night movie. Just to make sure they are doing the decade justice, they cut out the guitar leaving the lonely synthesizer. This is the breakdown. The buildup is even sweeter.

The B side is even more playful. Is that a cowbell? I think I’m happy with this track. Selebrities take their time with this one, letting it slowly grow. The guitar is considerably less prominent in this track. However that synthesizer is the star of this piece, overtaking even Maria’s vocals. Instead of being the lead, the guitar almost adds punctuation to the track. Only a few times can Maria manage to rise up against the synthesizer.

Glad to hear that Selebrities aren’t resting on their laurels. This is going to be released later this month. On here they’ve perfected the 80s icy coolness. Sure, this is a bit of a tease. That’s fine. Hopefully their next album can continue to bring the dark pop hooks they’ve explored on here.

Holly Go Lightly

2012-03-05T23:20:00.000-05:00

Gabby Gabby traverses the internet. See her everywhere. I feel Gabby Gabby is the ‘Lady Gaga’ of alt lit. The two of them have worked together before and I know they will work together again. Besides her collaborations, she is all over Facebook. Recently she posted on my Facebook wall and discussed Rush Limbaugh. So she covers all her bases. In her spare time she attends school in Virginia. Virginia is one of the designated ‘for lovers’ states, along with Oklahoma and Idaho. I’m sure she learns more from alt lit than any school could teach her.

‘Holly Go Lightly’ is Gabby Gabby’s third chapbook. This has the strongest ‘personal feel’ to it. Previous ones dealt with people but in more abstract, distant ways. Here Gabby presents a great deal of her experiences in school, college, and life in general. Yes, it is still funny. Gabby has a sense of humor. But there’s something very raw, very real about it. A few times I felt moved, saddened even. I remember how my college experience went. The isolation of that experience came back to me as I read this work. I thought ‘good, I thought I was the only one who felt alone at school.’ Glad Gabby shows me that I am not alone in school-related experiences.

Truman Capote introduces the book with his ‘hot bod’. However, if one looks carefully, one sees Gabby’s body within Truman Capote. Did Truman Capote give birth to Gabby? I find this unlikely. One, men cannot give birth to children yet (despite what the movie ‘Junior’ showed us). Also, even if such a thing was possible, she’s too young to have Truman Capote as a father. Most likely this photo refers to media’s fascination more with how a writer looks than one’s actual output. See Zachary German’s many interviews due to his extreme, intense attractiveness. This explains the occasional attempts at writing anonymous, all of which fail miserably, with a few notable exceptions.

I like the description of the Apple Laptop. From one single possession an entire flood of emotions comes forth. One person, one memory appears from this mass-produced consumer product. What makes it so memorable is its dent. Its imperfections become its most endearing quality. I feel that way about a lot of people. Usually what annoys people the most is what interests me the most. This story, which is spying, is quite forceful in its delivery. The reason this story comes up is due to the deep emotional bond Gabby has with her computer. Since my computer goes everywhere with me, I understand.

Not sure if Gabby’s life is a TV show. I don’t own a TV to watch. Maybe it is a good TV show on one of those cable channels you need to pay for, like AMC, Showtime, or HBO. Feel if Gabby’s life were a show it wouldn’t have canned laughter. It’d probably be impeccability well-shot and cast. Probably it would win an award or two, like a Golden Globe since those seem to be fairly popular.

She lists many items. All of these items are mere suggestions. Her goal is to have men stick something up their butt holes. This of course goes back to her now famous quote ‘Poop in my Butt Hole’ made famous by one Paul Cunningham. As a sloth I’m lucky this will never happen to me. But if I may, let me say ‘Sporks’ and ‘Butter knives’ seem harsh. Stick with erasers. I think erasers seem like a logical thing to shove up one’s ass. Her exploration of sexuality doesn’t end there. Rather it continues onward to her school production of ‘Peter Pan’ where she had to ace bandage her breasts to look male. That’s one of the most interesting parts of the chapbook. It confirms why I never starred in any school plays.

I like this chapbook. I feel with each chapbook Gabby opens up a little more than before. The absurd humor made me laugh a few times. The photos are wonderful. And the use of repetition to heighten tension is great. I hope she goes on an ‘IRL Poetry Tour’.

Possibly, Maybe by Walter Mackey

2012-03-05T21:20:00.000-05:00

I like Walter Mackey. Walter Mackey is getting big in the alt lit scene. First he collaborates with another Walter, one Sir Walter Davis. Sir Walter Davis smites like no other. Glad they combine their powers via Tinychat. His Tumblr looks better designed than my Tumblr, but that’s fairly easy for anyone to do. Now he has an E-books section. That’s where ‘Possibly, Maybe’ lies.

‘Possibly, Maybe’ is Walter’s first ‘multi-media’ project. He’s come a long way since his overly morbid Kindergarten-era chapbook. Any kindergartner who writes about death definitely needs to ‘chill out’. The cover for this chapbook is lovely. Some Alt Lit Gossipers state this cover is a rip-off of Frank Hinton’s now famous ‘Action, Figure’ cover. I disagree. I am pretty sure Walter did an intense ‘Google Image Search’ rather than create it himself. Besides he has to pay his newest collaborator Bjork somehow. Using her music isn’t free you know.

This is the first alt lit E-book. Usually E-books aren’t set to such stunning music but what do you expect from one of Canada’s finest citizens. Walter Mackey is Dudley Do Right, if Dudley Do Right ever decided to draw an anteater’s penis on the beloved children’s program star ‘Arthur’. If you ever need a reason to like or enjoy Walter’s work, simply think of that cartoonish penis. You’re welcome.

Walter goes over his development into his current state. He was born a child, you know, a normal kid. Then, through all these experiences, he became an eggplant. The first time it happened is when he saw a Gymnastics Barbie. Of course, Barbie turns people into eggplants. It is so obvious. And when Walter dresses up Barbie it is because he’s becoming a Carnivorous Eggplant. A dress on a plastic Barbie is like cheese on a salad. It’s not necessary, but it’s certainly nice.

One part of it I read twice. Yes it is true. Walter knows how to knit. Few in the alt lit community know this rare skill. Imagine the possible Walter may have with the first ‘sewn’ chapbook that serves as a stylish scarf. Think I am willing to pay roughly $12 for such a scarf, so long as he includes the ‘Arthur’ picture on it.

All of his childhood is gone over in an attempt to find an answer. Walter needs to know. Maybe it happened during all these potential interactions. Slowly but surely Walter transformed, into his current Eggplant status. I like the repetition in this chapbook. He keeps everything simple. There is nothing adorning it, just fact after fact after fact. Each one is stand-one. Who knows when he became an Eggplant? Who knows when his Eggplant-self transformed into a Carnivorous Eggplant (note nearly all alt lit writers are vegans, hence this makes it difficult for his acceptance into the alt lit community).

Honestly the chapbook never defines the precise moment. Whenever the moment happened is somewhat irrelevant. Each moment lead to an incremental change to present day Walter. And I like Walter. He’s my friend.

Michael James Tapscott with Andrew Kenower - Good Morning, Africa 7.9

2012-03-05T00:04:00.000-05:00

‘Good Morning, Africa’ is a dark, mysterious work. Technically it almost feels like two separate, yet complimentary pieces. In the first album we have the constantly evolving dark soundscapes. For the second album there is actual singing and song craft. Both aspects of the album are enjoyable. The approach reminds me of Gastr Del Sol’s modus operandi, where ‘pop-like’ songs would be surrounded by emotional abstract pieces.

Longer songs fare far better on here. The two seem to excel at expanding the dark atmospheres. ‘Who'll stop the Rain’ begins with a field recording of steady rain before an old radio tune is lifted out of nowhere. Everything in this song seems to be happening just out of perception. Little pieces of talking, screaming, and perhaps singing are distorted into pure creepiness. By the end it transforms itself into a brooding synth piece with a tense guitar giving it some rhythm.

Other pieces are as equally compelling. ‘The Splendor of India’s Royal Courts’ gives off an eerie haunted feeling. It is highly reminiscent of Leyland Kirby’s project ‘The Caretaker’ but with considerably more distance involved. You can barely make it out. It is as if the music is struggling to reach the listener.

The singing pieces are much more straightforward. Discernible guitars and drums are located. Yet even with these seemingly normal pieces, there is a great deal going on in the background. They are connected to their more abstract counterparts.

All of this feels highly usual having such a large range of material. It is all dark, brooding and atmospheric. Without the more conventional songs to break up the experimental urges, this might have been slightly less accessible. Including all these elements together gives the whole recording a certain sense of balance.

Screaming Seahorse

2012-03-04T16:08:00.000-05:00

Walter Mackey, do you sleep? You are so busy lately. All those chapbooks, all that Facebook shit-storm creation, and now this how do you do it? I want to know your secret. Let me know. Send me an email. Post a link on my wall with specific instructions. I’m jealous. Here I am blogging my life and you’re ‘kicking it’. This is the second Screaming Seahorse edition with the first edition out only a mere couple of weeks ago. I know the internet is fast, but that’s really fast.

J. Adam must have had a better 1997 than I did. My 1997 was nowhere near as dramatic. I am happy he didn’t wake anybody up. Making coffee is always the better option. I like to sleep and whenever I get woken up I feel a bit cranky. Of course I’m a sloth so this is normal.

Michael Koh is everyone. I think I see him everywhere. His poem rushes past me. It is a single moment, one long sentence. Every tiny detail rushes by, the lip, the jacket, the tree, everything. The end is the kicker though.

Matthew Holmes runs ‘ThePyramidPress’. He’s one elusive bastard. One moment he’s everywhere, all over my internet, next he’s nowhere to be found. Probably he’s busy leaking things, doing his Wikileaks type project. Hope he never finds peace of mind. I suggest traveling. Traveling is the best thing you can do with your life. Go forth Matthew and don’t find yourself. That’s the worst.

Daniel Cooper used to email me, Gchat me, you know, all that good stuff. His poem on here is the darkest in the entire collection. Man, this is some bleak stuff. Wonder what is going on down there in Austin, TX. Hope he’s okay. Glad I got to read this, it feels extremely raw to me.

Helen Yung is the cutest thing. It says that on the bottom of her tiny poem. This is a sweet poem. I feel happy reading it. It is an extremely sweet, affectionate little poem.

Joe Vaughan turns it around. In the beginning I wanted to ask him “Are you okay bro?” By the end I knew. However, it doesn’t answer why he only gives one cent worth of advice. The normal amount is two cents. That’s just standard. Where’s the other penny?

Pancho Espinoza studies the human condition. No joke he’s the anthropology expert of the alt lit scene. Both of these poems are from his now-famous chapbook. I never played the Sims as a kid but I’ve heard it ‘tears people apart’. I want to address Pancho on the second poem: Pancho it gets better. Take it from me. I’ve been around this big old world. People who act that stupid remain that stupid for the rest of their lives. They end up being totally fucking useless. You’re useful, relevant and alt. Let your inner alt guide you to salvation.

Daniel M. Shapiro is funny. The language is absurd. Every word plays with the other. I actually laughed at some of these, particularly the ‘Bird Doodie’ which is a fun thing to say and ‘a piece of cheese shaped like a rubber duck’. It seems dumb as hell yet also extremely funny to me.

Justin Carter wrote this epic story. It hurts. I tend to ruin surprises or have spoilers. Let me avoid that. Read this story. It is fantastic. There’s a reason this guy edits Banango, the literary blog. Glad we are Facebook friends. Stay away from my wife and three sloth kids Justin!

Carolyn DeCarlo is one half of the famous alt lit love story of 2012. Carolyn DeCarlo and Jackson Nieuwland are up and everything is fantastic. Both of them warm my heart. Her piece here is slightly different from what I usually see. In her poem she’s rather tender. There is no mention of sex. I checked twice.

Janey Smith rocks. She’s been in a number of publications and has a really positive web presence. I love the drool imagery and the sleep imagery. When people sleep I’m so happy. There’s something about being completely satisfied in sleep that I adore. You can be whatever you want and everyone is really nice in your dreams.

Maggie Lee is one of those ‘New Jersey’ poets I hear so much about. They live around Mount Olive in some kind of ‘alt lit split level commune’ and drink tea all day. Her poem is a series of disconnected emoticons, the new emotion.

Andrea Coates has a tremendous web presence. Her poem summarizes her entire life. It is gigantic, sprawling. You learn about everyone she dated, the order, the type, the style, the way they acted. The evolution of her is shown, Goth, Hippie, etc. I never had a style. Sometimes I wish I did. I am post style. Sloths don’t have styles. They chill.

Nathan Masserang, that is the worst Valentines’ Day present ever. Museums don’t assign value. They only assign importance. Lots of assholes are valuable. But you want to be important. I value you. I also don’t want you throwing that shade around too much.

Sian Rathore is an institution. She’s everywhere including Thought Catalog. I want to be on Thought Catalog (again). Her Tumblr is amazing. On here she discusses the worst kept secrets, snow cocks, and the logistics of ‘Ratatouille’. Wish I knew enough about logistics to understand how they are involved in a children’s movie.

Allison Kistenbroker loves cats. She hates their sneezes though. Don’t choke on the mountain. The mountain doesn’t exist. I wonder why she needs to say ‘Navy Blue’ so much. Maybe she’s a fashion designer. I like these short poems. They have a lot of impact due to their extremely sparse nature.

Rachel Hyman slaps around Judge Judy for a little while. Judge Judy deserves it. All this time she’s spent making people feel bad. Judge Judy is empty inside. Glad Rachel runs Banango. Happy she is in Chicago, living the life.

Tyler Arsenault knows how to write a poem. He also knows how to title one. ‘Teen-aged Pansexual Anarchists on Speed’ reminds me of my wasted non-wasted youth. Maybe I should have ‘hit the pansexual speed’ a little harder back in the day. The poem is gorgeous. Weirdly it feels exactly like the America I know, wide awake, living off of vapor, for no real reason.

Ally Batchelder gets advice from Taiwanese fish. I wonder how it got blood-colored. Maybe it was ‘born this way’ via Lady Gaga’s hit song ‘Bad Romance’. An 807 page manuscript can’t be ripped up, at least not quickly. I’ve tried. I agree about the toe nails. That’s gross. Hope Burroughs lives but we all know how that ends up. He always lived on the edge.

B. Alexander is mysterious, a man with no (first) name. The poem shows two astronauts. I think this is the updated Icarus tale. Only this is ‘Don’t go so close to the moon’. I find it interesting that the moon will freeze you up, rather than the moon burning you up. Freezing seems lonelier to me than burning up. I don’t know, if I get burned up I feel there would be other people there for some reason.

Heath Ison is clearly an artist, judging from his picture. Let the blow-up doll live. It seems Heath doesn’t like you. You steal from him. You are a pill, an evil nasty beast from the Sahara. Stop stealing and start living.

Brian Mcelmurry has a boner. I want to end it with that. Find out the rest. I can’t spoil some guy’s boner. You have to take a peak and read it. Hope he can teach you how to play guitar.

Sarah San is cool as heck. She’s teaching in South Korea. With her mere internet presence she makes the world a better place. You can Gchat with her at ‘Spookyguts@gmail.com’. I don’t Gchat too much though. Her poem shows her positivity and belief in her fellow man. I feel happy about that. I won’t go driving with her though.

Angela Shier makes macros. Her Tumblr is full of them. She likes cats more than you. She apparently lives in a colder place than you do too. She knows a few things about the moon and the stars.

Laurens Verdonkschot, that’s a long name. I have another name for him ‘friend’. His blog is solid. Along with a select few, he runs a great poetry reading series in the UK, right across the pond. To be honest I’m a little jealous of his beard. That’s a mighty fine beard. Can’t believe somebody told him he was part of ‘Generation Entitled’. Laurens works pretty dang hard at his craft. And the second poem reminds me of how I should probably meet this guy and have a beer with him.

Love this collection. Can’t believe it came out so quickly. If this is a monthly thing I want to be in it the next month. I promise.

Oh Yeah This – Session 2 6.7

2012-03-03T15:22:00.000-05:00

Oh YeahThis doesn’t give a shit. Songs, forget about it. Structure, they don’t believe in structure. Who knows how many of these sessions they’ve recorded. It is probably some unreasonable amount certain to outstrip demand. Despite their obvious goal of becoming the poster child of art wank, they are oddly engaging.

The first track barely begins. A guitar starts dying. For the final few moments of the song they sing out ‘People die’, proving what an existential band this is. They are beyond weird. Rhythms are barely kept. Guitars don’t function as guitars, but as fun trick noise makers. Occasionally they even settle into something resembling a ‘song’ though those are rare moments. ‘Aptyl Swarms’ is perhaps the most accessible of all these songs, and that’s not saying much. What it does do is show a certain talent for form that they seem to deliberately avoid. This avoidance can be frustrating as they are clearly talented musicians when they try. But most of the time they don’t seem to care.

‘Session 2’ is a bizarre album. I can’t say I love the thing. This is a hard child to love. However their humor makes the whole experimentation seem a lot more fun especially for the mind-numbingly stupid closer which goes on for far longer than anybody would ever want. There’s also energy apparent throughout the whole thing, an enthusiasm. Had they perhaps ‘scaled back’ some of the filler aspects of the album it could be a lot stronger. As it stands, it is still an odd artifact.

Will Wishbone appear at AWP this year?

2012-03-02T17:22:00.000-05:00

Wishbone used to be such an alt lit dog. Back then people asked him “What’s the story Wishbone”. He’d reply with a bark and everybody laughed. People loved Wishbone. Alt lit writers like Charles Dickens and Mark Twain appeared regularly on the show, ready to advertise their latest books. The mid to late 90s was a wonderful time for Wishbone. PBS paid him hundreds of thousands of dollars every year. Life felt good.

The show ended. Viewers moved on. Wishbone had a few books out, showing off his skill with poetry, but people didn’t care. If you watch PBS you don’t buy books. You absorb them through osmosis. PBS viewers are some of the stingiest viewers on all of television. Besides for the price of one Wishbone book they could get a delightful tote bag. So Wishbone’s literary career languished.

One writer took pity on poor Wishbone. Jonathan Franzen told Wishbone he could try for a show based off of his brother. It was called ‘Frasier’ and starred Kelsey Grammer. The previous ‘Eddie Crane’ had been killed after John Mahoney accidentally sat on him. The staff loved Wishbone. Frasier viewers adored Wishbone. Wishbone got catapulted into a whole other stratum of cool. Suddenly ‘Entertainment Weekly’ did cover stories about him. Wishbone got as many bitches as he wanted. NBC paid so much more than PBS.

‘Frasier’ ended in 2004. For a while Wishbone could simply live off of his money. But during the show he developed some terrible vices such as cocaine abuse. People asked him ‘What’s the story Wishbone’ and he’d get upset. Once he bit the face off of a small child for asking that innocuous question. The parents sued Wishbone and he eventually settled out of court.

Money ran out. It had been years since Wishbone had gotten any new gigs. No one wanted to hire a surly has-been dog. They told him ‘You can’t teach an old dog new tricks’. Wishbone began hanging out with other has-beens, like Billy Crystal. Billy Crystal would go on and on about how cool he used to be in the 80s. Wishbone had isolated all his other friends through his terrible behavior. Oddly Billy Crystal didn’t seem to mind any of Wishbone’s outrageous behavior. In fact Billy Crystal appeared to enjoy the many times Wishbone defecated on his chest.

The 2012 Oscars were what broke apart Wishbone from his pathetic master. Wishbone tried to ‘live-tweet’ the Oscars but gave up. Billy Crystal’s performance was so flaccid not even Viagra could save it. Wishbone knew Billy would want to party hard to forget what an abysmal failure he was. Before Billy even got home Wishbone had purchased at least $80 worth of combos and Coors Lite.

Monday, February 27^th Wishbone woke up with a hangover. Billy and Wishbone spent the entire night drinking excessively. Each one had vomited during the night. Wishbone went over and ate his own vomit. The vomit tasted sub-par, like 7-11 food. Next he went over to a half-conscious Billy Crystal. Billy Crystal’s vomit tasted like a lifetime of regret, sadness, and defeat. It tasted sort of like Cantaloupe.

Wishbone looked at his reflection in a puddle of Coors Lite. ‘Seems ruff’ Wishbone thought to himself wearing a dog facial expression. Wishbone went to the toilet to get a drink. Unfortunately the toilet was filled with what appeared to be ‘Tropical Skittles’. Nothing to drink either Wishbone barked to no one in particular.

Time to go Wishbone decided. Packing up his things into a doggie bag, he set off to try to make it in alt lit. Would he succeed with his experimental prose? Where would he go? Was it too late to get into AWP? If he made it to AWP who should he talk to first? Should he speak to Happy Dog Mom Litjournal? Wishbone sighed and quietly said to himself ‘What’s the story Wishbone’ before setting off to Chicago.

Bon Accord – Unknowing EP 7.4

2012-03-01T23:29:00.000-05:00

Bon Accord loves pop. That much is obvious. Judging from this carefree EP, the feeling is mutual. The melodies are easy-going. It embodies all that is good about chillwave: a certain joy, a spritely little melody, and honest vocals. Each little song contributes to this tender feeling. Unknowing EP is filled with small moments, tiny little flourishes, slight changes in tempo, and infused with fun.

‘Softer than Ever’ chugs along, perfectly happy with life. It is the longest piece on here and it simply expands. Moving slowly in the beginning it gradually settles into one of those ‘oh let this groove go on for an undetermined period of time’ moments. Thankfully Bon Accord teases this one out a little bit before entering sonic fluorescence. It is definitely my favorite piece on the entire EP.

Yep, Bon Accord includes all those things people forget. Simple pleasures like basic handclaps and uncomplicated beats make it pretty easy to get into. None of the songs approach anything verging on darkness. In fact, for a little while, they almost seem to transport you out of a bleak horrible winter into a place where it is always sunny.

Overall, it is simply a bundle of happiness. There are all the trademarks for good chillwave and simply good pop sensibilities in general. The hooks are there. Let them grab you in. You won’t be disappointed.

Crunk Juice by Steve Roggenbuck Warning: An Actual Review this Time

2012-03-01T22:10:00.000-05:00

A black triangle is on my screen. I’m going over ‘Crunk Juice’. How do I feel about this book? Since Steve’s last solo project ‘Download Helvetica for Free’ he’s changed. He spoke at Duke University last November. Over 2012 he has traveled along the East Coast. Now he is in Chicago. He will be going to Texas soon. Steve Roggenbuck is a digital bard traveling around the internet, around the IRL, following his dreams, making new friends.

‘Crunk Juice’ reflects his new approach to literature. Of course there is a lot of flarf. Flarf is funny. It wouldn’t be his book without some of the silly Flarf. What immediately struck me though was the tenderness of these pieces. Another aspect was the almost autobiographical nature of the work. Usually this hides within a poem. It startles the reader. It shocks me to read such non-ironic statements. I’m happy to say ‘Crunk Juice’ is the most sincere thing I’ve ever read of Steve Roggenbuck’s.

People wonder ‘Who is Steve Roggenbuck? What does he stand for?’ He’s the guy who wrote this book. Steve wants people to tap into their inner creative spirit. That’s what he god-dang stands for, geez. Maybe the MFA program wasn’t right for Steve. He certainly seems happy traveling around the country, meeting new people, creating new relationships, and writing new poems. Heck, Roggenbuck is happy in Baltimore and Baltimore’s depressing as fuck. Take it from me. I hate you Baltimore.

I like Steve’s work. My preference in general is for his sincere work. I enjoy the funny stuff too such as ‘Haha good point about mother fucking’ which deals with the prevalence of ‘MILF’ porn. In ‘Crunk Juice’ we see the hilarious and the sweet. After you’re done laughing you see lines like “I appreciate my life more now that I’m not planning to be successful” an unusually raw statement. Steve sold all of his possessions and travels around the country. Right now his goal is to create new work and experience new things. As I read this my mind kept on returning to his travels, to all he’s seen on his journey. He addresses his online presence within the poems. In one statement he says ‘Someone asked me if my internet presence is sarcastic, sincere, or both and I have no idea’. That’s honest.

The famous misspellings are here. They are really mind-numbingly stupid. I like the misspellings. Misspellings are a more personal way of expressing oneself. Everybody can spell something properly. People usually misspell in the midst of passion. I think that’s the effect they have here. That each one of these pieces needs to get out and come to you immediately. For me it creates the sense of urgency.

Rain is everywhere. It gives the poems a darker vibe. Seasons come up. The poems feel realistic. No longer are they simply pre-fabricated words. Steve liberates them. They convey a mood. Perhaps it is the mood Steve had when he wrote them. This injects life into these poems. It makes them a snapshot of a moment in time.

‘Crunk Juice’ is the ‘Go Dog Go’ of the Flarf movement. It is beautiful. See Steve Roggenbuck. See Steve go. Go Steve go!

‘Patent No. 5,443,036, August 22, 1995 - A laser beam to motivate cats to exercise’

2012-03-01T20:36:00.001-05:00

I don’t get involved in patent law. Patent law can be rigorous. Often there is a great deal of near-incomprehensible jargon involved.To learn the highly technical definition of patent law, find online law degree classes at an online school that can teach you about the legal definition of invention and how the law of patents describe inventive ingenuity. This patent takes all you’ve known about patent law and tears it apart. I laugh every time I read this patent. While I highly doubt these guys made much money on their invention, they succeeded on so many other, perhaps more critical, levels.

For one, this is a patent for a ‘method of exercising a cat’. That may be one of the best phrases in the English language. I feel this entire patent may be an elaborate joke. You know those truly stupid bets people have with each other, the frivolous ones that no outsider can understand? Outsiders look and stare as they shave their heads, completely baffled by their behavior. The whole patent reads like an inside joke.

Kevin Amiss and Martin Abbott are my heroes. Whatever lawyer drafted this is another hero. And the visual artist goes down in history as far better than any Dadaist, Stuckist, or other surreal/absurd artist. I wonder what the artist thought as they received money for this drawing. I am pretty sure he hung out with his friends later that evening and said ‘Guess what? I just got money to draw a picture a cat chasing a laser beam’. Then they would have gotten him a cab because he was ‘totally wasted’ and ‘spewing nonsense’. The language flows. Even the explanation of how a cat wants to chase a laser beam is genius. I feel better knowing this exists. Someone in the patent office must have had an extremely good sense of humor. Either that or people invented basically nothing in 1995. Standards must have been pretty low to say ‘A cat chasing a laser beam? That sounds pretty hi-tech. Patent granted.’

The cat owner sits on the floor in the picture. Clearly the artist wanted the owner to be ‘gender-neutral’ as it appears to really be nothing. The cat owner is interested in their cat. The cat, as the inventors claim, swats at the light. Obviously the cat gets good exercise out of this extraordinarily useful device. And the cat owner is entertained. Below the figure is an explanation of what is going on in the most obtuse language imaginable. Several paragraphs are dedicated to the basic premise of ‘In the dark you can see the laser a little better’. You know, maybe we are all scientists. All of us have the ability to determine the day from the night, the dark from the light. Good job everyone.

Say what you will about the ills of capitalism but at least it created a method of exercising a cat. Shame the patent expired in 2007.

“The Sky Conducting” by Michael J. Seidlinger

2012-03-01T19:16:00.000-05:00

“The Sky Conducting” is what post-apocalyptic America will look like. There won’t be as much bloodshed as some of the ‘gore-mongers’ would like. Don’t bother saving all those containers of spam. They aren’t going to prepare you for the overwhelming emotion.

Wistfulness, nostalgia, these emotions are engrained into the present American psyche. You can feel it all around. Feel the longing for the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s but not today. Now is not something to be proud of; it is something we try to forget. By constantly diving ever deeper into periods where ‘we thought we had it’ we figure maybe we’ll get a little bit better. Instead of dealing with the problem we ignore it.

Michael states rather clearly in his book how unhealthy that is. Look at the father in the book. Look at the mother. Are their ways of dealing with the present the best way of coping with the present situation? Even the son appears to be stunted in some sort of horrible growth, a longing for a childhood that never happened. Only the daughter shows the right amount of separation from the not-so-long ago past to look and plan for a better future.

I enjoy how the rest of the world copes with America’s demise. They remain enamored with a dead culture. Despite the empty consumer culture we created and despite how this led to our demise, other countries around the world continue to arrive into America to benefit from this awfulness. That’s one of the most interesting parts of the entire book for me. Even though they know what they do will lead to collapse, the temptation of easy, empty living is too great.

The whole book pays close attention to detail. Every sentence, every single phrase, is carefully arranged and stated. Michael doesn’t miss a thing. He fleshes out the characters. For a book about the end it is surprisingly gore-free. The temptation to resort to an ‘OMG look dead bodies inside out hanging from the school gymnasium with stuffed animals stapled to them’ is strong in these sorts of situations. I am glad Michael pays attention less to the actual events of how it occurred (it is never stated directly in the book) but rather on how it affects those left behind, after the collapse.

Michael has a unique voice. No matter what his subject, he manages to focus on the here-and-now of America. His last book dealt with our arrogance in online interactions, to deal with the rise of social networking. This one feels even closer to home as we mature and long for a simpler, easier, and more carefree time. Don’t be so easy on yourself. Live in the present.

GirlKore by Andrea Coates

2012-03-01T12:31:00.000-05:00

I am slow. I admit it. I have read Andrea’s work, been keeping up with her blog for a while now. Maybe I could have written about some of her other pieces, such as her critique of Tao Lin. Her Tao Lin piece is extremely comprehensive. Love him or hate him she did a huge amount of research on him. Some called her ‘obsessive’ but I think it was pretty thorough. She also wrote a harrowing piece on ‘Mr. Ducky’. As it turns out, Mr. Ducky is not her friend. You can read that post on her blog as well. Mr. Ducky is a worthless pile of human excrement. Why would anybody ever want it as a bath time friend?

‘GirlKore’ is an artistic manifesto. It originally appeared from one Marie Calloway, famous alt lit writer you probably should have heard about if you’re remotely aware of alt lit. The idea behind ‘GirlKore’ (or ‘Girlcore’ as Marie originally spelled it) is to create a literary form for female artists. You know, this isn’t ‘Chick Lit’. Andreas Coates takes her time in eviscerating Chick Lit for its pandering to stereotypically feminine things. Andreas takes Marie’s idea and runs with it fleshing it out further.

Andreas then explains why she adds the ‘K’. The ‘K’ gives it an edge. ‘C’ is a cute, adorable little letter. ‘K’ is a kick to the face. When Sesame Street does ‘today’s show is brought to you by the letter’ it never says ‘K’. Why you might ask? Because the letter ‘K’ doesn’t give a fuck! You want to know how Oscar the Grouch ended up a trashcan. Do you really want to know? I’ll tell you. ‘K’ beat the living snot out of Oscar, who used to be a really happy person. Then he crawled into a trash can and K shouted ‘Stay there, you piece of filth’. Yeah, Sesame Street is dark.

Hope ‘GirlKore’ picks up. There seems to be a good amount of positive writing coming out of Canada. Frank Hinton has written extensively about females in general, through her work and twitter efforts. One of Frank’s tweets ‘this is a woman’s world you fuckers’ is forever kept in my heart. An added bonus in the ‘GirlKore’ post is Andreas’ review of Lana Del Ray’s first (better) album. Anybody who is able to talk about Lana Del Ray in such an intelligent, non-insulting way is alright with me.

Overall I enjoyed the post. Andrea tends to spend a great deal of time on some of her blog posts. The quality shines through. Bummer she used to live in Brooklyn. Shame she doesn’t live there anymore. Hope she is able to create her Artist House. And for the record I don’t think her writing is ‘Junk’. Glad to see she speaks with Mike Bushnell. Andrea Coates is a fucking mountain lion.

Nite Jewel – One Second of Love 8.3

2012-03-01T00:02:00.000-05:00

Weird, you can actually hear Ramona’s voice on ‘One Second of Love’. It is weird. Before she hid behind so much lo-fi effects but now she’s out in the open. She actually has a good voice. Hearing it liberated from those effects on her first album ‘Good Evening’ makes this infinitely enjoyable. Though anyone following her string of EPs might have released this would happen. That slowly she would emerge from the murk to rely on her singing and pop hooks rather than various lo-fi charms.

The first song reminds me faintly of St. Vincent. Her delivery is that clear. It slowly lurches forward. ‘This Story’ sets the mood but not the tempo of the album. Sonically she is still heavily indebted to a particular 80s sound. That’s only re-enforced on the title track which has considerably more hustle. The tight, mechanical groove is rather enjoyable. And the melody shows how she’s moved closer towards her pop ideals.

Some of these songs are pure sunshine. ‘She’s always watching you’ previously released in December, is complete joy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Ramona sound this happy or this clear. This is one of the catchiest tunes on the whole album. Consider this the sing-along song of the album right down to the chorus.

A few of these tracks possess the smoky coolness of her debut. The track ‘Autograph’ sounds like smooth RnB. She had songs similar to this on her debut (think ‘What did he say’) but here they are better developed. The closer ‘Sister’ ends things off on a mellow note, with only a slow drum machine providing any rhythm.

‘One Second of Love’ is a far more diverse album than her debut. The sound is clearer. It is far catchier. And, most importantly, on here she proves that underneath the murk of her debut was a singer longing to escape. Glad she made it out of the lo-fi realm.

#SentfrommyIphone by Dayton C Castleman and Maggie McGee

2012-02-29T21:42:00.000-05:00

#SentfrommyIphoneis cutting edge. All previous edges are cut. You’re left with smooth interactions. Each piece is moving. The first piece for example goes over the difficultly one has with relationships. Relationships are tricky things. Sometimes people you want don’t want you. That hurts but it works both ways. Here that happens, the part of the rejector trying not to laugh.

The pictures in here are beautiful weird things. You’re spying on an Iphone conversation. ‘True perfection is not attaining completion’ is a particularly good line. I feel this way all the time. If you’re not improving you’re busy being a big old pile o’ poop. Maybe things get completed. I doubt it though especially if you’re playing around with your Iphone.

A few of these are pretty silly. I like the ‘Blockbuster’ and ‘meditating child’ one. They play off of each other’s silliness. On a side note I haven’t seen the Blockbuster logo for years. Wonder when they’ll stop using the term to describe box office hits. Feel that’ll never happen since the term predates use of the actual store.

One of the saddest ‘most emotional’ poems deals with pumpkin seeds. The back image is a decapitated head. Astronauts come up in this poem. I think astronauts are probably some of the loneliest people off the planet. They’ve probably met aliens. Probably aliens are super-boring people, like the kind of people who get PhDs in sociology and can’t stop talking about it. I get it. Labor rights are important. Now let me eat this taco.

Sadness and pain comes up a lot in the chapbook. I guess a lot of small, short interactions are often filled with sadness. Usually they have to be short. If you talk for a while about how bummed out you are, the other person tends to tune you out. The sadness is pretty funny though in a weird, voyeuristic way.

The images used rarely if ever have anything to do with the actual text. It is an additional sense of humor. Seeing the Little Mermaid covered in oil is one example. Seeing some English to Japanese translator stating ‘Reality is disappointing’ is another. Plus you just learned a little Japanese. Congratulations! Ok Cupid, that lovable alt lit scamp, appears as well. It seems ‘meth’ is searchable interest. It ends with the only non-ironic image, of a Google Map showing the distance between them.

What this poetry collection shows is that the Iphone is not just a way to kill time. You can write in those tiny little pieces of time. Things can be created with the excess time we have each and every day. Dayton and Maggie show us that with this work.

Crunk Juice by Steve Roggenbuck

2012-02-29T19:06:00.000-05:00

Get crunk. Get juiced. Get up. Get down. Get psyched. Get stoked. Get rare. Get ready. It is happening. ‘Crunk Juice’ the phenomenal, long-waited chapbook from Steve Roggenbuck is here. Think the Hess Christmas Truck is exciting? Take a bath. A little battery powered helicopter can’t compare with ‘Crunk Juice’. Nothing comes close to crunk juice. For an added benefit every copy of ‘Crunk Juice’ comes with an empty juice container. You fill the container with your own crunk.

Some events stick out in my mind. I remember where I was when I saw my first episode of ‘The Simpsons’, where I was when I first watched ‘Rocky Horror Picture Show’ and where I was when I got my first internet connection. Who would have thought that over one decade later, the internet could be used for such a wonderful social good? I had no idea when I heard that crackling internet modem, shrieking out in horrible pain, that communities could be created. I never realized that someone like Steve Roggenbuck would come out of this, creating such a tight knit community.

I am sitting in front of a computer. This is the rarest of days, February 29^th. . I’ll remember this day forever. I am happy. ‘Crunk Juice’ is officially here, available digitally. I live online so an online presence is all I know. Steve picked this day for its rare qualities. February 29^th might as well run for President. It is that rare. Once every four years we get an extra day, an extra 24 hours to truly live our lives.

Weeks ago Steve explained the concept of ‘Crunk Juice’ to me. He told me how excited he was to release it. I was privy to such #rare knowledge. We walked around Baltimore, talked about the internet, and bro-ed it up. He created a wonderful video here in Baltimore. But I got a firsthand look at the some of the amazing and quite honestly life changing poems in here. Some of them made me laugh for a long time and I’m not an easy laugh.

Of course you could have ordered this book earlier in physical form. You could have ordered it weeks ago in which case it is busy coming to your home. ‘Crunk Juice’ wants to be your friend. No wait, it wants something more. ‘Crunk Juice’ is human and it needs to be loved just like everybody else does. Today you can pay what you want and download the love onto your computer. Think of Crunk Juice as the pornography of literature. It is naked, raw, and beautiful. And you can probably get really turned on by it, you slutty bagel you!

I’m all fricked up and I don’t know what to do. I’m happy for Steve. This is his first solo book project since ‘Download Helvetica for Free’ released in March 2011, or ‘I love music’ a sensual collaboration with Stephen Tully Dierks. Steve is my uncle on Facebook but IRL he is something more. Steve Roggenbuck is my friend.