Mo’ Meta Blues
One more time for the cheap seats!
- I think I’m instituting a rule that I’m not dignifying any email rant against my content if it does not at least contain one good laff. I don’t mean unintentional moments of lulz against a blog writer of which Kurt Vonnegut might say:
Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae.
I mean give me something – a clever turn of phrase, a good deliberate zing or even a clown hornian momentary lapse of reason. But give the constipated, tedious drive by bitterness as witnessed in this latest bit of low level lulz lacking fuckery a goddamn rest:
I find your use of “cheap seats” really problematic. What are you going to do about it?
Okay. Since this is fail a la carte with no hopes of any nuanced class analysis main dish I am just not going to engage on that level of fuckery. Personally, I find your inability to make me laugh quite problematic. What are you gonna do about that?
What I’ve learned from watching Hal Holbrook in several films this week.
- If he’s coordinating the interview with a prestigious Southern law firm or if he’s your shadowy source or if he’s the government wonk talking chow chow as he pulls you off a space ship, IT’S NOT A GOOD THING. As soon as you realize it’s him, it’s best to back away slowly.
I don’t do the blog title thing right
- Apparently blog titles should be concise, descriptive and relevant; something my post titles almost never are. I like bits of dialog, song titles and whatever else occurs to me as I write my posts. I suppose I’m not doing myself any favors by making use of obscure or seeming unrelated things. Oh well I suppose it’s too late to save that bridge from burning.
I don’t think my writing habits are peculiar.
- I think a lot of people call themselves writers when really they’re Tastemakers. Nothing wrong with that except conflating their contributions with those who generate tangible culture products is not an accurate assessment of their activities. Tastemakers are as valuable (in my opinion) as folks who in fact generate culture and some Tastemasters do in fact generate culture – my dear friend Spoon is an excellent example of such an individual. She pulls the wagon and makes the deal. She was the person instrumental in helping me understand and therefore enabled me to parse my own thoughts around Tastemaking. That said, we were well aware our conversations, while thrilling and important, were an aspect of the creative process (and culture crits, I’ll save you some legwork – 2002ish and on is a good place to note genesis where our work intersects and occasionally informs the other’s themes and process. though both growing up in the same era, extend social circle of the “Valley” of southern california and its influence on our artistry shouldn’t be overlooked either.) but not in fact actual creation, unless Spoon was making pictures at the time. I will be honest, I probably was not writing anything down.
But wait! There’s more!!!
- Writing involves – well, writing. It involves not always being able to go out on the weekends and trip the light fantastic. Like my weekend, which found me sifting through my years and years film criticism on subjects ranging from: Orson Welles to the importance of film tropes such as “Fruit stand smash ups” and “Hal Holbrook as the harbinger of government fuckery”, in order to synthesize a decade’s worth of film observations onto about five index cards for a panel I’ll be doing in July. It also mean, despite not even liking Scriptfrenzy, I’m in fact nearly finished with the requisite 100 pages (91 to be exact), ensuring I’ll have earn another e-badge, not featured here and therefore not cluttering my site.
It also means I’m doing “One good paragraph” again. That’s where I take something at least a decade old and find one good paragraph (see even I’m not that clever with titles) and discover if I can use it as a springboard to say something new about the topic. Examples of that can be found here, here, here and here. That’s a lot different, than say talking about it or meaning to do it or thinking about doing it. Which is where me and Tastemakers (ones who don’t cultivate or generate artistic projects) part company. Again, this is not acrimonious. It’s clarification.
If you wondering why it is that other writers seem to live Carrie Bradshaw like lives or at least leave the house to do things more exciting than say – make a quick trip to the grocery store – what I can tell you? They probably aren’t writing all that much. It’s not an indictment, just an observation. When I’m really burning out the external keyboards, given all my other responsibilities I don’t tend to have time for a lot of other things! which is my choice and I own it. I also don’t complain, since you know, I don’t have to do it. If a person sleeps on average 7 hours a night, writes 6 hours, works 8ish, while I wasn’t a math major that works out to be 21 hours. Leaving three for whatever else needs to happen in that day. And for me that three hours is for my friends family and partner, though not necessarily in that order.
what I’m currently reading…
- Armageddon in Retrospect by Vonnegut.
- Look at the Birdie as by Vonnegut
- Tell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gone? by James Baldwin, recommended by one of my Goodreads friends who had some intriguing analysis I had not before considered.
- Ten Little Indians by Sherman Alexie influenced in no small part by “A Life Without Poop” written by Fry Butter’s resident Claude Lévi-Strauss and lulz manufacturer Everett.
I’m gonna be a MONSTER GIRL!!!
- Yes! Next week I will be featured on Monster Girl Media’s weekly Monster Mondays! Okay, not to fan girl out or anything, but this is like the most amazing thing ever for me. You don’t know what it’s like to have had direct interactions with THREE of your five literary heroes or how this is a fairly astonishing feat given that TWO (Baldwin and Vonnegut) are DEAD. So I’m gonna be on Erika Lopez’s site. Ed Lin graciously agreed to an interview and for two years I got to have my work beat into the ground (in a good and satisfying way) by Sarah Schulman.
I tell you what, it is not bad to be me.