the lingering synthetic waft

A new story, "How to Find a Flock," is up at Monkeybicycle.

short mention of monkeytown on the toad suck review website

"Vola creates a dystopia born from our culture’s voyeuristic fascination with violence and death. Conspiracy theories and charismatic thugs thrive in a world where the manipulation of public opinion is more valuable than human life. The only available escape seems to be an immersion into the mind-altering consciousness of pharmaceutical cocktails. Monkeytown is a frightening vision of what we might become."

i wasn't angry i just didn't want no more whiskey

posted on facebook, lost 24 friends lol :(

Hopefully you de-friend me as there will be less things I couldn’t give a crap about clogging up Zuckerberg’s almighty feed but here is how I feel: yes, the bombing was horrible, any loss of human life is shitty no matter how it’s been lost, especially when that loss is precipitated by a cowardly act of terror at an event that should have been anything but terrible. And maybe all the moments of silences at pro sporting events and things like the “NY for B” logo that have been popping up are soothing (?) for some people and I guess help people find some solidarity amidst the wreckage. But instead of spending your time designing and/or posting images of the Statue of Liberty wearing a Red Sox cap looking sad and writing statuses bemoaning how much it sucks that there is hatred in the world, that we have to live in an era of unprecedented domestic fear, etc. maybe you should instead try to put the bombing in context. Was it worse than the 551 civilian deaths in 2012 in Afghanistan that were directly attributed to Coalition soldiers? Worse than the daily GENOCIDE Israel has been committing for more than half a century with mucho help from the US (to the tune of $8.6 MILLION in aid per day)? Henry Miller is looking more and more like a prophet – “Nothing will avail to offset this virus which is poisoning the whole world. America is the very incarnation of doom. She will drag the whole world down to the bottomless pit.” Maybe instead of changing your profile pictures and bitching about how many crazies there are running around you should band together and overthrow the proponents of the cheap (and often deadly) idealism that has made the climate in which we live possible. Otherwise this is just another (not so big, in the scheme of things) taste of our own ignorant medicine.

what I bought at AWP part 1

Billie The Bull by xTx // a Nephew of Mud Luscious Press (2012)

One of the (many) things I love about xTx is her knack for making small things so big. In perfect (67-page) Nephew form, she scalds continents, history, and embarks on a gruesome, anti-Hemingway dissection of bull fighting while recounting the absurd and beautifully rendered tragedy of an ever-expanding heroine. This one sinks roots, whether you want it to or not. Also xTx signed my book at the Dzanc/MLP table which was uplifting.

How Music Works by David Byrne // McSweeney’s (2012)

Some of the best stuff in this sometimes rambling and textbook-y ode to the musical process – recording it, making it, embellishing its history, looking good playing it – are the dozens of photographs both general and Talking-Heads related (puffy suit from Stop Making Sense). The cover feels like a Wendy’s booth, sadly minus the honey mustard residue. Byrne can write, but I’d rather listen to My Life in the Bush of Ghosts than know what drum machine Brian Eno used in the fifth minute of the third track. Maybe I’m selfish.

The Rumpus ‘Write Like A Motherfucker’ mug

At $10 this was a great purchase, a vessel equally suited for Emergen-C and Templeton Rye, both of which are in moderate-to-more-than-moderate rotation while stressing about not writing like a motherfucker or after the desire to write like a motherfucker has passed for the evening (or noon-ish). Thanks Rumpus!

Render / An Apocalypse by Rebecca Gayle Howell // Cleveland State University Poetry Center (2013)

If you’re going to go bleak, you’d better go all out and this book wants to stab you not just to see what it feels like but until you’re drained. Some of the most tense and stripped verse I can remember. I’m not sure what “truth” means but as I read these pastoral nightmares that inevitably involve animal slaughter the word scrolls through my brain again and again like a stock ticker on meth while I try not to flinch. “Let the black hard rock of want / tear the skin of your prized intestines / Squeal Squeal for more.”

This Semi-Perfect Universe by William Todd Seabrook // A Nephew of Mud Luscious Press (2012)

Not really into numerology but I’m into Nephews and this one is a good one. The number 100 is the culprit here and boy does it get messy. Quirk-laden factoids (“100 is a figment of our imaginations. It exists as much as a 100-key piano or a Buddhist dog.”; “In 1384 the number 100 disappeared for a month.”) transcend, tweak, rejoice, and obliterate, and make us want to throw another round of TP on the trees in front of that snarky 7^th grade algebra teacher with all his x and y and whatnot and hop on the next 100-car bus to one of the 243 as-yet-undiscovered universes – because after all, we can only perceive 100 of them. 27 pages I don’t want to take back.

Italian sausage-and-pepper sandwich and soggy ass fries by Jose the “chef”

The pleasant irony of eating something that tastes like tailgating amidst thousands of people in unisex jeans who used to skip gym class to cut themselves was great. Until I had to sprint out of the Don DeLillo reading two hours later in utter fear for my undergarments. Plus it was like 9 bucks.

something you won't like

McDonald's Grilled Onion Cheddar at McSweeney's Internet Tendency. 

Summary: get a McGangbang instead.

some things you might like

Reviews of Sam Pink and Scott McClanahan are up at Carbon-Based Lifeform Blues and The Lit Pub.