small animals with short life spans

2009-03-29T23:33:00.001-07:00

Today I feel like waking up, motherfucker.

2009-01-26T03:37:00.000-08:00

I don't know what to tell you really. I know that in times of change and hope, there are still small life size crises. I brush my hand in your hair and don't care about too much.

I want to be very honest with you. Right now. I messed up, I stay in the terminal, I tried a long kick. I feel like there is wind here, and that the wind has made the ball look like it is not going through the uprights. I have been breathing through my nose, and smoking a stupid cigarette with my mouth. I have been waving my arms violently in the middle of the playing field. There are other players on the field. But now that the ball is in the air it is up to me to see it through. I will not leave the field now. I run along the sidelines, one hundred yards up and back. I promise you the ball has not landed. I am here, I have been here and quiet.

I get up from the couch to stoke the fire and return to the couch. I trip into the fire and get burns. I have become a freak of the internet. I have become a slowpoke unaware of how many days are passing.

You know, I want to tell you, while I have you alone, that I am really sorry. I feel regret and guilt. I feel like I cheated on you, internet writers. I have left and arched you. And I assume you have returned the favor. But, I am going to try again.

Things will be different, I am alone now.

Time for the preacher. I have denied the preacher in me, because of how people made me feel about it. But I like preaching to the religion of poetry and writing all kinds of things everyday. It is about catharsis. So fuck you, I will preach it as loud as I can. Sometimes, it builds up and I need to. Time to tell you that I almost lost faith in this. I questioned writing for the first time in my life, since starting out. There are lots of rooms in my past, lots of walls covered with pages and books and moving books. There are alot of times when I would be shitting and reading something and just drop the book after reading five lines, and I dropped the book in awe. I thought, goodgoddamnn if I ever get to write something like that. It made me want to, I worked to do it. But for the first time, recently, I couldn't even look myself in the mirror. I would write pages and discard them into the folders, but not very often. I sat on a chair alone and said to my cats, 'what's the point?' 'fuck it.' It has taken me this long to convince myself that what I believe in is writing all the time. Writing all the time has been my religion for seven years. I started out alone in rooms I had made into offices. Sometimes it was a bathroom, late at night, in the basement of the building. I think I literally pray that I will find a way to find you with poems. I want my poems to love you and make you scared, and alot of other things, duh. I want to have fun in the poems and create something that is entertaining. I like long poems because I like to have room to walk around in and discard. I think writing short poems is like writing short stories. Long poems are like novels. I believe there is a way to present poetry into a marketplace that is much different than it is today. But, I think it would take alot of money for advertising and adapting to mobile platforms and making poems viral, so add revenue can be added in a way that costs nothing. People have to look to hard for it these days. Eaten by more colorful media. I'm off of the point now. So, anyways, blahblahblah. And the eyeball dances under the dragon flying in circles breathing fire toward the human kite that is struck with lightning, connecting the human kite with electric charge that is powerful and come from clouds filled with biscuit angels and the lost pets of faded celebrities.

Coome back. Coome back internet readers. I am here and I love you for living life in a way that involves writing things down. It is simple, but it is true, and I mean it and I will prove it to you if you give me a second chance. You don't have to answer now. I will earn you back.

I'm easin my way back into this.

2008-10-20T21:20:00.000-07:00

Tidal is done.

The Industry finds a calling to serious lit.

2008-09-12T22:50:00.000-07:00

after losing every cent, and being thrown off a bridge by the evil McJackson, the industry finds something that warms him.

The person made of ballons struggles to pick up a baked potato

2008-09-01T00:31:00.000-07:00

I don't know who did this, or what they eat for breakfast, but this is incredible

2008-08-31T12:08:00.000-07:00

the industry gets ambushed, then fights back, then gets thrown off a bridge

2008-08-26T01:13:00.000-07:00

This masked luchador is named McJackson. I have a feeling this is just the beginning of a seriously literary feud. The industry sustained a herniated disc, but later managed to crawl up the bank to sleep in the port-a-potty for two days.

ALSO. Sam Pink. Public question number one of possible interview.

'Me:' 'Will you do an interview with me. why not? Pigs with spots? Violations of animal rights in the making of Milo & Otis? Cats that sneeze?'

Blogging about Bloggers

2008-08-18T10:52:00.001-07:00

I am posting about Zachary German for the multi-pronged assault that is 'blogging about bloggers'. I am going to work now, until midnight, but when I return I will put up an article about Blake Butler. There are also videos waiting to be posted when I return. At that point, I will link to all others involved in this wonderful event, so you can see the scope of this movement. It is a movement made of movements. It is movementism. Deal with it.

WHEN I MET ZACHARY GERMAN

Zachary German stands on the handicapped ramp outside of Melville House. He holds his arms away from his body and makes a ‘come on’ motion towards The Industry. The Industry climbs up the side of the ramp and jumps over the security railing. Zachary German falls to his back on the ramp, as The Industry comes over the top railing and hits a cross body. The Industry pulls Zachary German to his feet. Then, in one motion, he pulls Zachary’s head under his arm and falls back, hitting a DDT. While on the ground, Zachary pulls The Industry in and applies a rear-naked-choke. He cinches it in, and The Industry is having trouble breathing. The Industry struggles to his feet, with Zachary still locked in the hold. The Industry twists his hips and bends his back a little, Zachary is holding on to the Industry’s neck tight. Zachary flips over The Industry and lands on the ramp. The Industry stands over him and hits a pose. Zachary gets up, The Industry holds up Zachary’s arm and the crowd goes crazy.

ZACHARY GERMAN WRITES

Zachary German’s writing moves slow and quiet, it is a soft song. He is young, and I think part of his current voice comes from the process of getting to the bottom of one own impulses. When I read his writing I get a feeling that he is certain he should be writing in that tone right now, and that it will change as he develops more. Even though Zachary is young, he is still living large in small internet circles. He has an e-book called, Eat When You Feel Sad, out on Bear Parade; a short magazine he puts out every now and then called, The Name of This Band is the Talking Heads; and he is currently working on a novel. Among people I have showed Zachary’s writing to there is an ongoing debate of boring vs. minimalist. I have heard that Zachary writes in this ‘minimal’ tone to approach general daily life. He has said that he tries to stay as general as possible, and not detail the situations too much; this way he may relate to more people at one time. When I read Zachary’s work I get the feeling that he is in flux. He is trying to hone in on the devices that allow the greatest relationship between reader and writer. I enjoy reading Zachary’s work, and I think he is in a good spot to be at the top of his game by the 2012 Olympics. He is finding his feet, and he is the top young prospect on the internet today.

ZACHARY GERMAN IS A PERSON

I don’t know that much about Zachary’s daily life. But I have collected some information from speaking with him and reading his blog. When I talk to him in person he reminds me of Crispin Glover on the Tonight Show. He is a tall person. When I saw him in person he was very drunk. He like Lil’ Wayne and Jim Jones. And, sadly enough, he tends to lean on the depressed side of the emotional spectrum. Sometimes, he talks a lot like Tao Lin, in a monotone and removed voice. When I speak with him I feel he is bored a lot. He has a job in New York City, where he is good friends with Kendra Grant Malone and Tao Lin, among others. Go read things Zachary German has written. He is on his way to becoming a master, and leading an exemplary literary life. There is talk that Zachary will soon be named as McCain’s running mate in the upcoming presidential election.

Kuwait for the wait

2008-08-13T22:08:00.000-07:00

Someone found this site in Kuwait by searching, 'animils fucking small girl'. I have missed this place. It is good to see the computer, and talk to you briefly. It is time. Sam Pink orders are moving along, and they are a little backlogged. We are making your books. They are coming. Sit tight. They get there slow. We are going to start sending extra books for the trouble.

Thank you all. There is a great thing here.

This Monday... This Monday... This Monday

monumental movement origins...

be ready.

the industry has lost it

2008-08-12T22:05:00.000-07:00

it has been quiet ... and some things are changing

2008-08-12T22:03:00.000-07:00

updates

2008-06-21T03:45:00.000-07:00

I am sorry internet. I feel like I have been putting you off, and finishing other things, because I have. The Jaguar Uprising Press has experienced a much larger flow of orders than expected. Because of this everything has slowed. In the last week since 6/11 all I have done is work with the press and finishing of things. Everyday, I tell my friends I have work to do, because I do.

Tidal is still nearing. I have come to finish the edits and restart a number of times. Honestly, I have been splitting my work time between working on things for the press and finishing the edits. I think it will be done soon. I am sorry for promising it so much earlier, but things took off from under me. I am still working on it, and I want it to be pretty for you, and full of lovely things, and full of explosions. It is like an action movie. I think it is like a superhero movie where everyone is a superhero.

Along with the book orders, the press has received a good amount of submissions. I have been going through these submissions. I have accepted one, and will probably accept more. Look for the next Jaguar Uprising Press release on July 4th. I will tell you more soon.

This is one of the most exciting times of my life so far. There has been so much to do. It is a great thing, I think it gives me great feelings. I am kind of tired alot, but I am so happy. I am sorry, detatched internet, but I am a happy person for now.

Also, if you have read Kendra Grant Malone's book on bore parade and want more, then order her book from Jaguar Uprising Press. The ordered book contains previously unseen pages with more emotion, more tell-all bravado, and more of Kendra's life. So come over, buy a copy, we will send it to you. We will send it to you with all the pages, ones you have seen and ones you haven't seen.

All ordered books should be in the mail this week. So, if you are waiting for a book order, please be patient in these starting stages. It has been busy, there is alot to put in place. We are thinking of you, and we are sending your books this week.

I guess this is another big week. The final two releases of the 6/11 goal will be released this week. Along with more information about the new Jaguar Uprising Press book, buyable on July 4th. This week should also start to show some signs of transition in the industry and ttb characters, along with a new masked promoing persona in the midst of an anonymous feud with la ponderoso dicasirio (a prodigy of the golden bear) (...the golden bear).

If you would like a Jaguar Uprising press book, and have no dough, e-mail elkjaguar [at] gmail.com . Tell me you need books, tell me any other things. I will reply and make an offer to you. I want to work something out and send you these books. I want to talk to you about what else we should try to provide to you. Who do you want to see a book from? I will look into it, and maybe even hound them.

My cat is attacking the NWO heavyweight championship, I think that means it is time ti finish Tidal. Sorry again, for the delay, stick with me, please, please.

Vincent Van Vogue

2008-06-15T19:20:00.000-07:00

Everybody should go pay a visit to Vincent Van Vogue. Vincent just put up a new mix. It is a very pretty page to look around on. So, you should stop by. It is a fun place, that will only become more fun.

6/12

2008-06-12T19:09:00.000-07:00

Well, 6/11 has come and gone. It was a whirlwind type of thing. There was alot to do. There still is alot to do. Books are moving. We have had a bit of sales. Enough to make a good number of books. Please support this press. The press is a serious part of something we have fun doing. We are very serious about this press.

Tidal and Ben Balcom's films will be coming out in the next couple of days. As soon as a good amount of time is found to fix problems with all the things, and put up these new things. Thank you for visiting, and please feel free to contact me about any of this, any aspect of it. I would like to talk with you about any of it.

Post 6/11 world, another announcement of the Jaguar Uprising Press

2008-06-11T21:22:00.001-07:00

In a world after 6/11, a press called the Jaguar Uprising Press exists. This press is dedicated to giving you quality handmade books for as cheap as we can afford. Take a look at the page, and figure out a way to take part, for us or against us. There are also ebook versions of some books released at bore parade. (soon to go through some major cosmetic changes).

This is years and years away from over.

end of 6/11, starting of something else

2008-06-11T21:15:00.000-07:00

Go to Bore Parade to witness Kendra Grant Malone's Love Your Friends Not Your Lover. This is the final release on 6/11 of the 6/11 releases. There are still two more titles that will be released in the next couple of days. We met some snags, of course. But I feel very good and excited about these things. Come along! I would like to work with you on projects.

6/11 has come and is ending. What a time it has been. We didn't reach all the goals that were set. Two books remain in the ebook blitz of 6/11.

We got our first order today. We are in small small tiny, always broke, buisness.

Thanks for stopping by, and witnessing the mayhem of 6/11. It has been fun.

Stay tuned, as the next couple of days will have more news, and more books!

6/11 6/1 1 6 / 1 1 /611

2008-06-11T16:46:00.000-07:00

More More More

Here comes 'The Death of the Crippler' by Joe Lindsay, ebook version on bore parade, print version from Jaguar Uprising Press, 2008.

Thank you 6/11.

6/11 611 6/11 61111

2008-06-11T15:45:00.000-07:00

After a medium break the books are back. Here is another book, availbile in print from the Jaguar Uprising Press. This book is called 'A Hole in the Ground, A Satellite in the Sky'. It is by someone named Andrew Boye.

In this book you can travel around America with a little boy named Fortune Alabama. You can stop by the mall of america, and see a Hummer flip on the highway.

Then...

You can stay tuned. Because more books are coming.

This is a very exciting day, 6/11.

Stop by in the next hour to read 'The Death of the Crippler: The Unofficial Guide to the Benoit Family Tradgedy and the Pro Wrestling Universe' from Jaguar Uprising Press.

Happy 6/11 everyone.

6/116/11611/6/1166611111111

2008-06-11T08:15:00.000-07:00

shop with the jaguar uprising at www.jaguaruprisingpress.com, then witness the mayhem that is 6/11.

You can stop holding your breath.
zzzzzz.
You can open your eyes.
Boreparade-ade-ade.

The first ebook has been released. The highly anticipated zzzzz zzz zzzz by TTB, hits the interntet via Bore Parade. Go live the mystic life for a while. It might Get you in the mood for more 6/11 6.11 611. Remember 6/11. Check back often for more.

There is so much more. There is so so much more more more! Sing it! Oh yeah!

6/11 6/11 6/116/119/116/11

2008-06-11T06:55:00.000-07:00

It is like Christmas over here. People have been in and out all night. There have been things happening. I will be posting throughout the day with updates.

First and Foremost of 6/11 is the launch of the Jaguar Uprising Press, and it's website www.jaguaruprisingpress.com. This press offers handmade paperback and hardback books to you. The site includes cover images for books and movies by Kendra Grant Malone, Joe Lindsay, TTB, Mike Bushnell, Andrew Boye, and Ben Balcom.

6/11 is a very special day. It is the day that the Jaguar Uprising Press publishes all print releases on-line. Look for big changes in the format of the Bore Parade page. While the final editing happens on some books, others will be posted at bore parade. The hope is to get six books up by the end of 6/11. Alot of people are involved, so there is room for time differences. But, things look good right now, at 10 am. Hopefully by midnight all will be finished. If not, just sit back, take a nap, wake up, then check back here for updates.

What book will come first? Will there ever be any suspense? Find out today, later today, tonight, and so on. And also, go to www.jaguaruprisingpress.com and spend a Lincoln on a book. We would love to make you a book with all our hands.

Noah Cicero becomes a part of the Uprising

2008-06-05T18:37:00.000-07:00

Watch, as Noah Cicero becomes a face emerging out of the internet to stomp the Jaguar... funny enough this makes him part of the uprising, as liking us and wanting to beat us up are the same thing.

So, Welcome aboard, Noah Cicero. I hope someday the storyline has me and you joining forces.

these are some of Jordan Branson's rules

2008-06-05T14:40:00.000-07:00

Jordan's Rules 59-114

59 Marilyn come home
60 Go Rockies
61 You can't hurt steel
62 Park it like it's hot
63 Hit the gasser go fasster, all you hear is dual exhaust flowmaster
64 Don't sit there and get caught by the police
65 Burn rubber all down the block and don't stop
66 Be careful
67 You make me sick
68 Rufus is a girl
69 Clean your room
70 Big Frank
71 No
72 Get Rich Or Die Crying
73 Money Isn't Real
74 Blue Jays '08
75 It's HOT!!!!
76 Heeee-Haaaaaaw
77 Is it July 17th??
78 Jose Reyes is infact a Bobble Head
79 85% of the time...it works everytime
80 and that...makes no sense
81 if it hits the floor its mine
82 John never works the grill again
83 Nobody plays the 184 Jacks are a monster
85 The first cut is the deepest
86 Everybody wants something in return
87 Happy we'll be beyond the sea
88 Someone so close became so far away
89 Crying lowers your sex drive
90 Pocket kings rule
91 Don't be greedy
92 Shout Out! what what!
93 Bread breaks glass
94 Nobody lives here
95 Don't worry about it
96 I was there
97 It's too late to fight
98 Wash your mouth
99 Toast is better than CornFlakes
100 Freedom is loneliness
101 Everyone is weak
102 Tycoonin'
103 Wash your face
104 I dip I stunt, I only wear my white tee's once
105 White tee's I just throw 'em away cuz I wear 'em just only one day
106 My white tee's so fresh smell like febreze, i'm high as a kite smelling like tree's
107 Get hungry before you eat
108 Its understood I do it for the hood
109 She likes it
110 Closest I been to commercial is when I watch TV
111 Pudding is delicious
112 Stones in the watch they match the chain, new jordan's on his feet snowman's his name
113 I get kinda hyphy when i'm gone off a lil' gin, you don't like it say hello to my little friend
114 I am so cool look at my myspace

Daryl finds heat.

2008-06-03T18:59:00.000-07:00

Watch as two people write in the style of Zachary German, and Ken Bauman laughs.

I think they describe daryl's life well. I'm not sure though. Daryl works hard to get his heat. Nice work, uprising Daryl. You made a small counter-revolution. I like the sound of this. Get people to write about things.

More footage from the vault. This one is pre-uprising, circa 1994. The jaguars have always been friends.

2008-06-02T19:04:00.000-07:00

Even before there was a jaguar uprising, ttb, the golden bear, and the industry were great friends. This is a montage from the vault, set to the alt rock sounds of the wwe-crowd-friendly foo-fighters. It was filmed in 1994. These three helped each other through all the difficult times to get to where we are today. Between spending nights at girls houses, these three skipped on the world. They kept each other writing through anything. See for yourself. On 6/11, these three friends will launch a devastating force in hand-made, sewn-bound books. There will be hardback and paperback versions of all books published. There will be editions with music to listen to while reading, and images to look at between reading. If you let the Jaguar Uprising Press publish your work you will get a special object, multiple special objects, dedicated to you.

An interview with The Golden Bear

2008-06-02T17:26:00.001-07:00

(...the golden bear)

Promos from the vault. These happened before a triple threat match between The Golden Bear, TTB, and The Industry. Rare footage from 2001.

2008-06-02T12:37:00.000-07:00

Noah Cicero is in America. There is sex everywhere. Buy Treatise.

2008-06-01T21:08:00.000-07:00

Buy Noah Cicero's book. If that doesn't convince you, check out Noah Cicero's promo. It is badass. His book release party looks like more fun than Tao Lin's.

It is nearing. This 6/11. Get Ready. SIX new Bore Parade books and the start of the jaguar uprising press

2008-05-31T20:02:00.000-07:00

This press will release small editions of printed chapbooks. In the future, it is going to expand to releases of Book/DVD/CD sets. Jaguar Uprising Press, coming June 11th. 6/11.

I will tell you all. If you are bored enough, I will tell you all.

2008-05-26T23:26:00.000-07:00

Listen, lean in, HAHAHAHAH.

I am telling all of you that I am happy right now. I have been happy for a little while. I forgot what it was like to feel happy regardless of what is going on. I still remember what it was like to feel something like nothing regardless of what was going on.

This is a development. I am spending alot of time with a lovely lovely. She sparks me, it is good, we are an even match. There is little hostility, we have 'argued', but it was a fear and shock kind of 'argument' where we both were a little scared of the feelings we stirred up in each other. That scared has settled. Now, there is caring and pulling in. There is a little crying here and there, and soft head stroking with kisses on foreheads. It is loving. I have never felt so strongly about treating someone right. This is a good feeling that carries over into other parts of life.

Sometimes, I still sound upset when I answer a question, even though I am not. This happened tonight when someone asked for a ride. They asked for a ride into town and my yes sounded labored like I didn't want to, even though I didn't mind. I might of sounded labored because of when the person asked, it was sudden as I was walking out the door. He hadn't said much else. I drove him to his house, I dropped him off at his door. I tried to sound happy when he thanked me. I think I did.

Then I drive home, and I think about her, she is miles away. Her cell phone does not have service. I don't know exactly where she is over there. I know she will be someplace new tomorrow. I think about he at home, in a room in a house near sleeping horses. I don't know if horses are near the house. But I imagine them anyway.

TTB moved into my apartment. Now it is our apartment. We have yet to stay here at the same time. He is mystic like that. I tried to eat crispix this afternoon, but I didn't have any milk. I wasn't that upset. I ate pasta from the night before.

The house is clean. While I write this there is an infomercial on about the conair hair straightener. I think about conair. I think about people in portland googling the name of this blog five times. I look at my cat and think about why I need to be drinking more water. It was warm today, I walked to town, I wore sunglasses. I ran into Memphis.

Memphis looked alright. I was worried because I hadn't seen him lately. He told me that people yodel to one another from mountaintops. I thought of the blue yodel. I think he said: "There is the real. The imaginary. And the body." He laughed. He said "And the body needs to communicate. So we have cell phones, humming birds, and yodeling from mountaintops." Whenever I see him he tells me about how I remind him of him at my age. He is five years older than me.

That's all. Look ahead. There is promotional material on the front. There are five books being released at one time from Bore Parade in the summer special release. This release features work of five different people. Kendra Grant Malone, Andrew Boye, Joe Lindsay, Me, and TTB. One of the books is the long awaited satire, ZZZZZZzzzzzz zzz zzzzz. The other four are Serious Lit. There is a nonfiction narrative, a novel, a journal, and a long poem. So when you have all that free summer time and koolaid sitting around, brew up some of the red stuff and sit back for hours of fun from Bore Parade.

a poem by Jordan Branson

2008-05-24T14:35:00.000-07:00

cover me with a blanket
over and over and over and over and over and over and over and cover
my face so I can't see and
hopefully not breathe
smother me with smugness
the smugness monster
you

hahahah

2008-05-21T17:50:00.001-07:00

I am in Tao Lin's brain. He knows I hate the word AFRO!

Tao Lin Launch Party / Jaguar Uprising reading / bore parade

2008-05-17T13:31:00.000-07:00

This week is a week worth filming. On Thursday, me-thegoldenbear-ttb-daryl (jaguar uprising) went to NYC. Tao Lin made a video while we were there. In this video Zachary German gets flipped over my back while he is choking me. There are also shots inside my van, where too many people try to ride to dinner with Tao Lin.

On Friday the reading went very well. There will be footage of it up shortly. The footage will include a montage of friendship, jaguar uprising members promoing on each other, and a short reading-match. Mike Young came to the reading. I drove him to Northampton after. Thanks for coming out Mike Young.

***COMING SOON*** On Bore Parade... Kendra Grant Malone... journals... sex... private life... coming soon... Bore Parade... journals from the 90s... coming soon... 'Love Your Friends and Not Your Lovers' from Kendra Grant Malone ***COMING SOON***

More updates later, it has been such an incredible and busy week. I am kind of tired, but not overwelmingly tired. I have reasons to get out of bed. I am lucky.

Daillifeariouso

2008-05-13T13:47:00.000-07:00

I walked in and out of building, I touched my hair. Sometimes I scratched my scalp while I touched my hair.

TTB, The Golden Bear, and myself are having a reading / triple threat tables, ladders, and chairs reading match on Friday, May 16th at 7:00pm in the West Lecture Hall of FPH at Hampshire College.

Mike Young, you should come.

The Golden Bear is reading from a (non)fiction narrative about Chris Benoit, the wrestler that killed his son and wife and then hung himself from his workout equiptment. Has the Golden Bear stepped into the abyss? Has he crossed the line of tasefullnesses? Come find out!

TTB is reading from a book about a kid named Fortune. Fortune and his parents travel around a bit. Fortune travels around. They go to the mall of america, a hummer flips on the road. Don't miss out on this action packed acount of a young child in the USA. Bring McDonalds to throw everytime TTB mystically says 'chicken nugget'. Head on over, and be prepared to wipe your two tears off your cheek.

I will be reading from The Gospel of Tom Cruise and Tidal. I don't think I will stop for the entire time I read. The sway will show itself. You will leave your body behind. The tidal wave will get next to your face and stay.

After this there will be a TLC reading match. Bodies and hearts will be broken.

Come find out what it is like to be entertained at a serious lit. reading.

Come dressed as your wrestling persona. Be ready to pose.

Savoca

2008-05-07T16:02:00.000-07:00

This is an illustration I did for a poem in Matthew Savoca's chapbook, 'Tough!' Look for it soon somewhere. Sorry, Matthew, to post it here. But I must. I will promote your book in exchange. This is a more entertaining drawing with the poem that made it exist. You have to see it with the poem or you are missing out, and you are not tough! Only the toughest of the toughest can handle these poems of sheer power and toughness. After reading it, you will understand what it feels like to really be tough.

No Posit Vol. 2

2008-05-07T11:11:00.000-07:00

I have a poem in No Posit Vol. 2. It says it is from the gospel of tom cruise, but it is a bit different from they way I used it in the book. There are great things in this e-mag. Take a look around. I have yet to finish reading it. I will talk about it here when I finish. Thanks, Ken.

a short promo from the tao lin comments section on a guy named 'wells' that starts a storyline about the power of the growing internet lit.

2008-05-06T15:09:00.000-07:00

Hahahahah! Well, well, wellz, welcome to my stretch limo. Here, I crush the ice cubes and think about people who do not know how to read closely. I think about you, wellz. I pour some dog blood in my glass, and I think about you as I drink it. Wellz, an idiot lost in a forest thinks all the trees look the same.

Hahahah! Wellz, you come here to say I comment in the way that tao lin writes! You come here to say Tao Lin is all of us. Well, I point out, over the internet. I rotate alone in my room and point out at all the writers of the internet. I return from that to tell you, wells, all these things are true.

Look around you, you are surrounded by all the ciceromaniacs, the uprisings, the linears, the alone-malone, the eyeless spider. You are surrounded by the writers of bear parade, the germanites, the writers of ashland-oregon, the 'killen'ers from overseas, lacey's viking ship. You are surrounded by those from no colony, those of muncie-indiana, the gorrellaholics and more are nearing, wellz! All of us exist. We are spread out, and diverse. All of our styles exist. We are really out there.

Now, get out of my limo, here's two dollars, go get some soft serve, and think about us.

The Jaguar Uprising missed Tao Lin's reading ++updated++

2008-05-03T16:22:00.000-07:00

Me, The Golden Bear, TTB, and Daryl were in CT on our way to NY. The engine light came on and the brake lights came on. Then the car lost power on the side of the road in CT. We waited for four hours for the tow truck to get to us.

We took some pictures while we waited. Those are below and next to. We got home at around midnight after a long trip to somewhere we didn't want to go. I think Tao Lin did something to my car with his sneaky magic. The car is in the shop now.

When we got back we returned to a party in The Golden Bear's house. There was a keg of

beer, and some cans. People were playing beer pong there. We went upstairs and drank a little, quietly and tired. Then, we went downstairs and took over the party. The Golden Bear gave TTB a stone-cold stunner through one of the beer pong tables. Then TTB gave a flying elbow to Sam 'the man shotgun' Breslaw. The man didn't take kindly to this. The man rock bottomed TTB through the other beer pong table. Then everyone left and we finished the beers in the Golden Bear's living room.

two days ago the day was 72 hours long, I slept through most of it, luckily

2008-05-02T01:19:00.000-07:00

First, here are three short poems:

we sit together on the porch

here
take this
if you’re thirsty
I think we have some crackers somewhere
too

we are small animals with short life spans

all of us is casual experience for our universe
our miracles are the size of bodies on planets with vast jungles
we are a dying part of something special that goes on without us
this sandwich is delicious
there are grey plants in the valley
near an upside down car
someone bleeding eats a big mac

while I imagine playing video games

I am making tacos with hot sauce
by the window
looking out of the window
to where it is raining on the street

___________________________

Tomorrow, everybody go to New York CITY.

I have been reading poems by Susan Scarlata. Right now, she is the editor of Lost Roads Publishers, the press Frank Stanford started in 1976. Read her poems, this is a good one, here, here at coconut eleven.

I read this news article about chris benoit.

Hillary Clinton thinks she is 'just right'. As much as I love wrestling, I lost respect for all of the candidates when they gave speeches on Monday Night Raw. They should have cut promos on each other.

Gospel of Tom Cruise makes a watch list

2008-04-28T21:53:00.000-07:00

A beautiful link to the Gospel of Tom Cruise.

A snippy interview between Daryl the Blasksmith and ZachAry German

2008-04-28T16:04:00.000-07:00

you can read this wonderful insight, unedited, here.

storyline progress of the jaguar uprising, Tao Lin says 'I will hit you with a chair'

2008-04-26T08:34:00.000-07:00

Submit to bore parade, 'zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz' coming this week at bore parade. Tom Cruise sulks about his break up with Katie Holmes in The Gospel of Tom Cruise.

Recently, The Golden Bear declared his love for Kendra Grant Malone, and Kendra responded. The Golden Bear seems to be gunning for the real american dream: meeting the love of his life on the internet. How will this high risk maneuver pay off? Will The Golden Bear continue his pursuit, or will Kendra's response turn him sour on the whole idea? Either way, solidarity Golden Bear, I been where you are right now and it don't feel too good.

Also The Golden Bear and the jaguar uprising in question six of a very long interview on someone's site.

The mystic one, TTB, seems to have a mystically bad taste in his eyes as he sets his glare on Sam Pink. Sam Pink wrote a long promo to the entire uprising, TTB peered in his mystic looking glass and whispered, 'so it must be', and cut a promo on Sam Pink. This seems to be a classic encounter of Legend vs. Legend Killer, as the legendary TTB holds onto the eagle claws and descends from the clouds to defend the legend of the jaguar uprising. The legend killer, sam pink, stands on the rocks near the river waiting for ttb to land, he waits standing near a spider that has no eyeballs. As TTB nears the earth emotions will soar. The collision is close. Brace yourselves.

Daryl the Blacksmith and Daryl Strawberry don't like each other too much. Odd thing is, both of thier blogs are run by the same person: daryl. Who is this crazy metal-bending-home-run-sending-schizo? We'll see, as Daryl faces Daryl in a split personality steel cage match. I don't think daryl even knows he is both. People say you don't have any recollection what your other personalities do. Will daryl simply self-destruct, tearing his own arms and legs off in a coke-feuled-blow-torch-tornado? Watch reality totally disappear, as one man's psyche crumbles in a battle with himself.

Someone out there doesn't care for TTB. His name is Sam "The Man Shotgun" Brewslaw, and he is letting the world now how he feels.

Ciceromania and the jaguar uprising combine as one, a little.

Tao Lin responds to the jaguar uprising appearing at the KGB Bar Arena on Friday, May 2nd by saying, 'I will hit you with a chair.' Be there, or miss out on the greatest battle of writer-athletes that New York has ever seen.

The claw touches the cloth that touches the skin, I skim, the attic of a house down the street exploded yesterday

2008-04-24T05:19:00.001-07:00

My cats have always just cut my hand or arm, and whenever I open the window they jump on the desk and walk over the keyboard to put their paws on the sill. They are getting big. I feel proud about my growing cats. They are roughly equal in size. But Chiefrunningtears may be a little bit bigger than Crowbar.

I have odd reading habits. I don't read many things all the way through. There are only a few books I have been able to read from start to finish. Most of the time I pick up a book at start at a page near the front. I page through the book reading one or two words in different paragraphs. I do this until I find something that catches my interest. I read that for a while. Eventually, with some books, I get a good idea of the whole book over a long period of time. It is out of order, but it generally makes sense. Other time I will read chunks in a book, ten to twenty pages in a row. This makes me better at reading poetry than reading novels. I enjoy the short form. Even when it is a long poem, I feel like the poem is a short form. When I write novel parts or stories I focus on the narrative development, when I write poems I focus line by line. I think the way I write deeply reflects the way I read.

Now that I live alone there is alot of pattern in my life. I see alot of the same things everyday, with little variation. This leads me to repeat alot of images in poems. There is variation, but alot of times the reader is left reading basically the same thing over and over. I think that the repeating action is basic and needed in the long poem.

I still believe in the long poem. This is related to my reading style. I like to have many more words than I need so I can scan around and find things out of the everything that is going on. This makes a long poem something that provides endless shorter poems. The over arching structure is found eventually. I think of this reading as a kind of bathroom style reading where there is limited time, and complete focus for that limited time. In a collection of shorter poems there is an awareness of the poem as a complete object. I feel the writer writing or crafting the poem, starting it - going through some action - and finishing it. The long poem lacks these distractions to me, and the result is a more free-form writing that loses focus and narrative arc. In a short poem there is room for one to a few emotional shifts with minimal development. The long poem offers a landscape where subtle emotional nuances flux in and out of the fabric of the poem. The poem becomes a dynamic representation of the flux of emotion. I don't believe in stream-of-consciousness. I think a writer gathers methods of association, more and more the longer they write. Over time, these methods become subconscious and they form the phrases before the writer has to think of how the phrases are being arranged. Accumulating associations becomes a long-term goal, like the long poem.

My cats ate all the dry food in the bowl. There isn't anything left. Chief is sleeping in the sink and Crowbar is laying on a black chair. There are little punctures where the claws have been in the chair before. The light on the cieling of my room stopped working. I only used it for a few months. The yard is clean though, and there is only one garbage bag in the trash can.

The Jaguar is coming, on May 2nd, to the KGB Bar Arena: Where it all begins, again.

2008-04-22T03:33:00.000-07:00

Tao Lin and Zachary German have a reading at the KGB Bar in Manhattan on May 2nd. All should come, all should be there, the bar should be overflowing with the uprising.

I have come to do no one no harm

2008-04-22T03:24:00.000-07:00

Noah Cicero recently mentioned the ultimate warrior on his blog. I credit most things about this promo to the ultimate warrior.

Tao Lin, Noah Cicero, Brandon Scott Gorrell, Zach German, Sam Pink: It doesn't matter what your names are

2008-04-19T21:55:00.000-07:00

This is a rocketmonster that powers it's rocket jet with kittens

2008-04-19T03:04:00.000-07:00

The Industry promos standing in front of the generals of the jaguar uprising

2008-04-15T18:50:00.000-07:00

TTB cuts a very mystic promo on Tao Lin Zachary German and others

2008-04-15T18:47:00.000-07:00

The story of the golden bear

2008-04-15T18:43:00.000-07:00

Daryl The Blacksmith promos on various people of the internet

2008-04-15T18:31:00.000-07:00

a poem by Jordan Branson

2008-04-14T15:46:00.000-07:00

the french invented tears in 1907
you want me to be french?
I'll show you fucking french
oh yeah

new jaguar uprising press book, the gospel of tom cruise

2008-04-12T08:41:00.000-07:00

After months of waiting,
Tom Cruise has finally
followed through.

NEW NEW NEW

the gospel of tom cruise
by Tom Cruise

NEW NEW NEW

From Jaguar Uprising Press!!!
view other ebooks here!!!

Whoopi Goldberg and Tom Cruise Part III

2008-04-11T21:41:00.000-07:00

WG: Okay. So. Here we are again. I am Whoopi Goldberg, and I have lost forty-three pounds. I was busting much more than a deuce. I am here with the ever-smiling Tom Cruise.

TC: Oh yeah, Whoopi. Hahahahhah. Oh yeah.

WG: Right. I haven’t flown in a very long time. I prefer to travel by bus. The Gospel of Tom Cruise moves around at a very fast pace, what kind of transportation are the jumps in The Gospel of Tom Cruise most related to?

TC: Whoopi. You know I don’t know, Whoopi.

WG: Stop saying my name, honey.

TC: I Know, I’m saying it a lot. Whoopi. It’s just fun to say. Whoopi. Whoopi. haahhahahahhaahahahhahaha. hahahhahhah.

WG: It is fun to say, Tom. Transportation?

TC: Yeah, transportation. I think the book resembles a broken teleportation machine that spits you out at many places before you get where your going. I have a teleportation machine that works, but I imagine that is what would happen if it broke. But, you know, I’m still here. I am a postcinematic writer, Whoopi. Opps. Won’t happen again. Film has taught me more about moving spatially around images. It taught me about focusing. Look, all I’m saying don’t blame me. I got kids at home. I would never show them pornography. If they are in the bathroom too long I will knock on the door, and I will say, ‘hey, are you constipated or what?’ I care, Who-ah, I care.

WG: Yeah. It makes me feel exposed in a way, like somebody has torn off my clothes.

TC: I know. I know. I mean, I’m a hugger. Look. I hug.

WG: And when you been hugged by Tom Cruise, you been HUGGED.

TC: hahhaah.

WG: Tom. There is a glow surrounding you. Where does it come from? Are you taking risks? What do you think your gospel means? Is it a release?

TC: I don’t know. If I wanted to relax I would just go for a walk. You know, it’s like help me help you. Help me help you.

WG: hahah. Show me the money, honey! ha.

TC: Were just sitting here hanging out, and you have to take it there? Anyways. So I also produced this book. It was fun working with bore parade. Did you know they have an army of invisible cats? I didn’t believe it until I saw it. But I went in there and there were all of these things floating around moving through the building. I was just like, wow.

WG: Well, that about takes us all the way through this. It has been somewhat informative.

TC: What do you mean ‘somewhat’?

WG: Oh shut up, Tom. I’m Whoopi Goldberg. Look for The Gospel of Tom Cruise, coming out on April 12th, 2008 on bore parade.

Whoopi Goldberg interviews Tom Cruise part II, this is where they start to heat up

2008-04-09T21:03:00.000-07:00

WG: Okay, I’m sitting here with Tom Cruise, the man about town. What is the driving force behind this book? If it isn’t religious, it must have an agenda of some sort.

TC: I am sure there is some kind of agenda or something that comes together with all of the stuff in this book. But I write it line by line, I try not to think about what I wrote before .

WG: Right.

TC: And I just imagine that there are a lot of people out there that can’t remember everything. So I write to that audience.

WG: They’re out there honey. You know, I saw a photo of you and Katie, and both of you were topless. I was like, uh-huh honey. I know if it was me out there I’d be down to the floor. I’m long. You guys look like the luckiest mofos on the earth.

TC: Right. Thanks. Whoopi, this interview is about the book. Right?

WG: Yeah. Let’s get it out in the open, lets get it all out in the open. I’ll say vagina, and we can just get all those words out in the open.

TC: Okay, I am ruthless. And I respect that in others. Look, I wish the world was a different place. I want to go on vacation and just play. And do that. But, Whoopi. That’s how I want it to be. But it isn’t, I can’t, because I know. I know I have to do something. I used to sit and wish it was different. But this book is how I have started to do something. I don’t care if someone thinks it is hard or easy or fun or stupid. There’s just this thing of: LETS GO! You know what I mean, Whoopi! Let’s go!

WG: Oh yeah, honey.

Promotional interview between Whoopi Goldberg and Tom Cruise

2008-04-09T14:24:00.000-07:00

This is an interview done by Whoopi Goldberg (Jumping Jack Flash, Hollywood Squares, The View) with the incomparable Tom Cruise (Born on the Forth of July, Top Gun, War of The Worlds). This is part one of a three part interview. The final section of the interview will be released alongside The Gospel of Tom Cruise. I like reading these guys go at it. There is a little bit of tension between them for some reason.

WG and TC interview part 1:

WG: Hi, Tom. Glad to talk to you for this interview. I have read the gospel of tom cruise, and I have a few questions to say the least. First off, how’s the family?

TC: Pleasure to see you, Whoopi. It’s been a long time. I don’t mind the questions. It is my pleasure to bring you my first book of poems. I started writing while on the set for risky business. And my movies heavily influence my writing. The family is doing well, Suri’s second birthday is coming up and it is going to be a huge huge blowlout. There will be clowns and elephants and carnival games and a person on stilts. And a whole lot more. We treat her so well. She is a little baby prophet. I recently read in the tabloids that me and Kate are on the rocks, but that is not true. We are loving and leaning on each other.

WG: Woah. Tom. Ok. Everyone is talking about your new book release. I know when you were young you wanted to be a priest. Does this new book tap into that spiritual impulse you had as a kid?

TC: No, I don’t think so Whoopi. I think there isn’t much spirituality in this book. I think it is everything other than spirituality. It is the things of my life now.

WG: But it’s called the gospel of tom cruise. Doesn’t that mean there is something of religion in it?

TC: No… Whoopi, I know it carries a lot of implications. But, I used it for a pretty round about reason. First I look at the old english translation of gospel: good story. Then I think ‘no news is good news’. Then I think, ‘no news is gospel’. Then I decide that when I offer everything but the news about myself, it is a gospel.

WG: Ok.

TC: What?

WG: Well, that just seems a little silly to me. When I think of gospels I think of Sister Act one and two. I think about the music we sang in that movie. That music is moving and spiritual. It is far from nothing.

TC: I don’t know much about that Whoopi. All I am saying is why I called it my gospel. I am sure that gospels in church are lovely things. But right now I am in a different place.

WG: Ok. So, it isn’t any kind of religious text, but it is called a gospel. In it you exist both as an I and as Tom Cruise. Why? What are you trying to say?

TC: I think that when I say Tom Cruise people imagine me, my body. When I say I people imagine my interior self.

WG: But, doesn’t it stand for anything? Isn’t there a deeper symbolism?

TC: No.

small update with no life span

2008-04-08T15:26:00.000-07:00

I have recieved the submission from Tom Cruise. His people are nervous about using his stage name. Tom wanted to publish it under Tomas Mapother, but I shot that down pretty quick. I have started formatting his book and it should be up within the week.

In other news, there is a great little anti- tao lin and co. post here. I found it because I use blogsearch to find people to invite to submit to Bore Parade. Ex-intern Catherine Lacey knows what he means! Right now I am writing emails to Blake Butler, Ryan Radar, and Daniel Bailey. I like the style they have when they write. I like style and charisma.

I am going to go to the supermarket now, and get some things to make tacos with. I like tacos with beans and cheese and lettuce and shell and sauce. My cats like lettuce. Right now both my cats are on my desk because my window is open. It is pretty nice out, but I am still going to put on two hooded sweatshirts. My coat is in the car.

They Live: conformist aliens, fight scene, and the power of friendship

2008-04-04T13:26:00.000-07:00

In the 1988 movie They Live, starring Rowdy Roddy Piper, there are aliens that live among us and they use an electric signal to keep us dormant. These aliens cannot be seen due to the signal, which gives the alien human features. It was directed by John Carpenter.

Forty-five minutes into the movie Rowdy Roddy Piper's character finds a stronghold of the resistance to the aliens in the back room of a church. In this room he finds a lab with chemicals, and many boxes of sunglasses. Rowdy Roddy Piper watches the church through binoculars for hours. Then, the church is raided by police that are controlled by the aliens. After everyone has left, Rowdy Roddy Piper goes to the backroom where he found the lab. He punches through the wall into a sectret storage area. He finds a box of sunglasses. He takes it. He hides the box in a garbage can and takes a pair for himself. He walks to the street. He looks through the glasses. He sees a black and white world of subliminal messages. He walks down the street wearing the sunglasses. He sees a few people, then he sees the first alien. It asks him, 'what are you looking at?' Rowdy Roddy Piper gets scared and eventually is persued by two cops that are actually aliens. The aliens use thier wrist-commuunicators to tell the base that someone can see them. Rowdy kills the police-aliens and takes all thier guns. He walks into a building while looking behind him to see if anyone is following him. When he turns around he sees that he has walked into a bank. Up to this point Rowdy Piper has not spoken much, but the glasses are 'like a drug'. He notices he is in a bank and stands there for a second holding a shotgun and a handgun. The people in the bank go crazy. He says, 'I've come here to do two things, chew bubblegum and kick some ass... Looks like I'm all out of bubblegum.'Rowdy sees a few aliens in the crowd. Rowdy Roddy Piper stands in the bank and shots five or six aliens. The people running and going crazy think he is shooting people. Rowdy gets chased around for a while by the aliens. Everyone he sees he tries to get to put the sunglasses on and see how it really is. No one will put them on. There is even a six minute fight scene where rowdy is trying to get the person to put on his sunglasses. There are a few wrestling moves in the fight scene. It is pretty awesome, there is one time where this guy gets kneed six or seventimes in the nuts.

In the end he convinces this guy that the aliens exist. Rowdy and this guy get to the alien headquaters with one of the wrist-comminicator-transporters. I'm not really sure how they got it. That guy gets killed and Rowdy Roddy Piper makes his way to the source of the alien signal. I am giving away the end, but this movie was made is 1988 so I don't feel bad. He shoots the source. The signal is broken. The aliens are exposed to everyone, and the plot is foiled. Rowdy Roddy Piper gets shot by a person in a helicopter while he destoys the source. This is the world that he leave behind, with the aliens exposed:

The hammerhead in the oversized windbreaker is a little scared of the tiny stop sign

2008-04-03T23:44:00.000-07:00

Happy Retire Ric Flair

2008-04-02T14:08:00.000-07:00

I'm at Seventy Two Words

2008-04-02T13:28:00.000-07:00

Seventy Two Words

eagle riding on a mac truck

2008-04-02T01:41:00.000-07:00

nothing doing

2008-04-02T01:10:00.000-07:00

I move around so quickly, with such force, that it makes everyone in the room dizzy. I like the word liberty. There is sixty-eight cents on a book next to my keys on the desk.

In the world there is the regular weather. There are slight shifts of wind. There is light rain. There is a small amount of snow falling for a sustained period of time. I am the tornado that makes the volcano erupt in the middle of the hurricane. Even when I feel like sunshine on the cloud.

Sometimes I feel like going for a drive, but there aren't that many roads around here.

Drink and You'll Feel Fucking Great

2008-03-29T01:45:00.001-07:00

NEW NEW NEW

ON BORE PARADE

NEW NEW NEW

Drink and You'll Feel Fucking Great

by Joe Lindsay

Tom Cruise's first book of poems, The Gospel of Tom Cruise, available this week, on Bore Parade. And more in the works. Submit to Bore Parade!

a deathlike creature stands near a kite and picks up a beachball with it's big hand

2008-03-27T20:17:00.000-07:00

Wolpertinger and Tom Cruise

2008-03-22T23:38:00.000-07:00

I was in twenty states in the last eleven days. I think I saw one of these in south dakota. No, maybe it was Kanssasss.

My heart is half-elk-half-jaguar.

You remind me of a cookie that is baked onto another cookie. Two cookies combined in a bag of individual cookies.

The Hummer spins sideways in the lane, flips four times from on the road to off of the road.

I have been in contact with Tom Cruise and he has almost completed his gospel. He told me he had visions in between meetings and dinner dates and baby tending and walking into his gold plated closet to decide what to wear. I looked into it. It all checked out. Tom Cruise, I look forward to reading your gospel in a few days.

'sometimes i am a little bit happier than tao lin' now up at bore parade

2008-03-11T15:31:00.000-07:00

SOMETIMES I AM A LITTLE BIT HAPPIER THAN TAO LIN

AVAILABLE NOW!!

BORE PARADE!

I had originally written all the poems in this book, except the last one. When I went into the folder to upload the poems, I found that half had been deleted or just not saved or something. Either way I only had about twenty. I am going to rewrite the rewrite over the next few days and hopefully add them when the next book, 'the gospel of tom cruise' goes up on bore parade sometime in the next couple of weeks. Also, coming soon, from TTB the mystic man of the badlands: 'zzzzz zzz zzzz' on bore parade. bore parade fight song by kendra grant malone? bore parade. submit to bore parade.

interview with tao lin about the intern uprising, Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy, animals, and literary movements

2008-03-11T15:04:00.000-07:00

Tao Lin is a writer that is probably doing something right now. I think alot of people relate to tao lin's writing because of the amount of alienation. He is a dastardly force. In my most recent exchanges with tao lin everything is deleted. As you see in this interview, tao lin answered the questions and lost the answers through a series of mistakes. But I think it is enjoyable, there is a good amount of good things in between the descriptions of what he had said in the previous answers.

________

MB: Recently, there was a small uprising against you. I still believe in it,
but it seems to have faded from most people's focus. I was going back
through the records of your blog, and I found a message from Kendra when you
first got your interns mentioning a possible rebellion. Eventually, Kendra
was the person to begin speaking of revolution when you started mistreating
your interns. So, Tao Lin, is there some kind of covert operation at work
here?

TL: Kendra Grant Malone is Ulysses S. Grant's great-great-great-great-great granddaughter. I don't know if that is the correct number of greats. I don't know anything about Ulysses S. Grant. I typed different answers for this interview but when I sent them to you I forgot to attach it and I was in the library and the computers delete all their files every night or something. The original answer for this question was funnier and more interesting than this answer.

MB: And do you feel a revolt against you is needed?

TL: The original answer to this question was insightful I think. I don't
remember at all what I said. I think the answer was funny but not "just a
joke." I don't think I can recreate the answer, all I am thinking right now
is this sentence, how will I complete this sentence. I am in a different
"mood" than when I answered these questions the first time. I feel "stupid."

MB: More importantly, Tao Lin, how did you come to power and how do you feel your new book, Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy will effect this earned position?

TL: I think in the original answer I talked about how a book of poetry won't make me rich and famous but maybe my next novel. My next novel will come out in 2009 maybe if I finish it. By "rich" I think I mean probably like 1/3 of the amount of money Rick Moody gets in a grant, configured to "sustain" me for one year. I feel rich already. I feel unable to not have any money for some reason. A few times when I didn't have enough money to pay rent I just did pre-orders for my next book on my blog or went on stealing rampages. By "famous" I think I mean that maybe most of the people whose art, music, and writing I like will know I exist.

MB: 'you are a little bit happier than i am' has basically two characters,
other than Chris Ringer, the 'you' and the 'i' dominate the language of the
book. Do you continue this in Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy?

TL: Yes. In the original answer I talked about "metaphorically" and "literally" two characters. I am glad that answer is not here anymore, I think I didn't know what I was talking about. I am glad people don't have to read that and feel confused or ignorant, thinking I know what I'm talking about. Yes, COGNITIVE-BEHAVIORAL THERAPY has two main characters.

MB: I read in another interview that Therapy uses more abstract terms. Do you feel that writing stories and novels has made you feel more free to abstract in your poems? How else do you feel working on all three forms at once effects you?

TL: In the original answer I typed the order I wrote the books I have published. I think I will do that now. Here is the order: 1. BED 2. EEEEE EEE EEEE 3. YOU ARE A LITTLE BIT HAPPIER THAN I AM 4. COGNITIVE-BEHAVIORAL THERAPY. I have gotten less abstract over time I think, if you graphed it. My next novel will be my least abstract book. In my original answer I typed about how everyone I know on the internet who writes writes in three forms. I don't know anyone whose writings I like who is my age who only writes in one form. I talked about how probably famous writers have internalized their literary agents and the important literary critics of our time. Literary agents will probably get frustrated if you are Jonathan Safran Foer and you try to publish poetry or short stories on the internet without getting paid. But then I thought about John Updike and Margaret Atwood. They both publish in all three forms.

MB: In an interview with Michael Earl Craig you list ocean sunfish, hamsters, dolphins, moose, and bears as some animals Michael Earl Craig doesn't use. Are these the animals you still use most today? How do you find new animals make their way into the common associations?

TL: In my original answer I compared different animals to different
"terrible events." If something like 9/11 happens certain writers will start
"using" 9/11. If 9/11 hasn't happened certain writers will use the holocaust or Vietnam or WWII or racism or something. To me it doesn't matter what "terrible event" is in the book. It doesn't matter what animals I use. My concerns are existential. I feel the need to put quotes around that sentence. "My concerns are existential." I choose animals because someone I know was talking about them or I saw an Ocean Sunfish on Youtube that week or something.

MB: How do you feel movements or literary groups effect the way literary writing can be marketed to a greater audience?

TL: In my original answer I typed a lot of things here. I think I said that to create a literary movement you need to be able to make generalizations and pose with certain facial expressions in a group with others in your movement wearing similar clothing in certain magazines and that you need to be able to do all of this without sarcasm or self-awareness. Something like that. I think I said that sometimes a journalist will do all that him or herself so that no one in the "movement" itself has to make generalizations and sound like an ass. I think I said I lay in bed every night praying for that to happen to me and people whose writings I like.

MB: In a wrestling promo it is the goal to convince the crowd that your opponent has no chance against you. You describe to them what will happen and how you will keep your opponent from winning. There are many styles of promos. In the 90s Mick Foley made a series of anti-hardcore promos to the hardcore-style-fans of Extreme Championship Wrestling, this was the only way Mick could think of to anger the fans and change from a good guy to a bad guy. Can you please cut a promo on anything? Me or happiness or The Golden Bear or The Industry or anyone? I would love to hear a Tao Lin Promo. You can make it about how your new book will defeat the Ultimate Warrior. Anything.

TL: I don't remember what I talked about in my original answer. I can't think of anything right now. I think everything I said in my original answers I've already said elsewhere just in different words anyway. I am glad I lost the answers sort of. The new answers are at least "different" in some way than all the other interviews I have on the internet.

Public letter to Two Tears Boye about some things that happened on saturday night

2008-03-08T23:17:00.000-08:00

Hey TTB,

I went to campus. There was a party there, it is a theme party where everyone wears mustaches. It's called the mustachio bashio. I don't know how I ended up in there. I did.

There was a short period of time where I was completely alone on the dance floor. I mean this party was full-like-a-club-whole-party-pushing-against-party-status. But all my friends had left. When my friends were there I didn't notice much about the other groups of friends, but when I was alone I noticed. I noticed other alone people with shifty eyes, and I tried to contol my shiftyness. I danced continually. Some alone people weren't dancing. I was chanting and WOOing while I danced. I had both my arms up and I pointed to the sides, above the crowd. When I got home I smelled bad, so maybe that dance move was brutal on some people so close to me.

Today was also the fourth annual Bono Day. I don't really care for Bono, but everyone deserves a holy day. Me and my friend walked around telling everyone we saw 'happy bono day'. We sang some of his songs to people. There were mixed reactions. I was sober all night so I had the upper hand on the drunkers bashing Bono. I would get pretty aggresive and close to people, like a heel(bad-guy) in professional wrestling. It is the heel's job to excite people and get them upset. Basically any kind of reaction represents emotional (and in wrestling monetary) investment. (I hate parenthesis, I really do. I try not to use them.)

Well, one kid in a cowboy hat heard us say 'HAPPY BONO DAY!' and he turned and said, 'fuck bono!.' Me and my friend, the golden bear, the golden bear, the golden bear (second part of the Benoit story COMING SOON), went after this kid and said, 'hey!' 'no fuck bono.' We stood real close to this kid. The Golden Bear is a face (good-guy), so we play well, balancing off each other with the poise of a superstar ready to connect with the elbow.
We said, 'what?'
the kid wearing the cowboy hat said 'fuck bono, bono sucks, i hate bono,what has he ever done?'
I replied, 'Bono saved Africa from the ocean!'
The kid in the cowboy hat said, 'yea, so he saved africa and sings songs, so what, why does he get a day. fuck Bono.'
And the Golden Bear laughed about africa v/ ocean. And I looked around. Then I looked back at the kid with the cowboy hat. We went back and forth about Bono for a while. I said, 'its not about bono, it is about bono day. You don't know what your talking about.' I told him that Bono came to this very spot on this same day four years ago. He didn't believe it, but it is true. Bono was there, and he was there long before this kid in a cowboy hat was there.

Eventually, I chased him away. I chased him yelling, 'G Dubs 08, George Dubs 08, G Dubs, G Dubs!' When I chased him I kept my hands in my pockets and pulled my jacket out a little, flapping. 'Vote G Dubs.' Then I laughed standing near some friends. I don't really like George Bush's policies, but I don't think he makes them. I think he is a great face for the public. He is tricky and sly and smiles like you know he knows a secret. It is funny. He has more country-people-charisma than anyone running now. Baraaaak has a different kind of charisma. He is kind of like a stone cold steve austin of politics. He doesn't respect the political scene, he thinks it needs reform, he thinks it is too hidden. If Barraaaack wins I think it will be the attitude era in the white house and the people will go crazy for it. News rating will be up. Or he will inherit a bombs set to debtonate in his hands on the first day. G Dubs would be smiling, sitting at his ranch, laughing a little and thinking how nice it is to be done being president. Either way he will probably do that. Universal health care is stupid. Hillary is in the back pocket of some healthcare people to try that. We have it in Mass. and it doesn't work at all. It is too expensive, that really is the truth. Universal healthcare doesn't work here because people without jobs don't get healthcare, that is just how it works most of the time around here. Having a plan set in place doesn't change that really. Hillary's plan is like a healthcare dictator.

When I was in the party I danced with a girl for a little while. I noticed how much less you move to dance when you are dancing with a girl. I barely saw her face really. But I have gently touched this girl's hips. And I have danced with her in a room full of people, so it is like grinding in a mosh pit full of dancing and grinding people. I don't know why I grinded. I guess I wanted to be against someone because I was alone in the mass of dancing people. I enjoyed it. I like dancing in the group of people but I feel a wierd feeling sometimes, like a stiffness in my back or my arms or my neck. I tried to look her up, because I always have the impulse to contact people I have body contact with. Sometimes I imagine having sex, but sometimes I just imagine contacting the person and saying things that are too true to tell people, not dirty things, normal things. Most of the time I don't contact them. And if I do it is not right, there is odd in the air. This girl was short, I had to crouch a little. Sometimes when the crowd would move I would hold on to her to keep her standing. I noticed her friends pushing her back over towards me through the crowd at one point. She went to smoke a cigarette. Then I left. I saw her talking with her friends. I stood not that far away at one point. I heard someone say, 'that's him?' but I may have imagined it. I walked away. I like to walk away from things and leave it at that. What exists is that I am not sure if her name was meredith or margaret, and the only thing we said to each other was an exchange of names. I am glad to leave it at that. I like the panickedy feeling of what's just behind. And most of my relationships are big time wreck jobs, right up there all over the rocks. But a night of dancing in a crowd where people are dancing together, and the whole crowd is pushing against each other and holding each other up at the same time and there is loving nature in a semi-violence situation, is intimate and memorable. There we are each others sleds while we are falling and rotating, crashing all the way down the mountain, bouncing off trees and jumping into the air sometimes.

Later that night I told a whole room of people the way I felt most of my relationships went. I was describing my faults. A girl in the room said, 'that's mature.' I said, 'ha!' She looked at me. I said, 'Well may not be mature, but it is natural, right now.' I looked at her sitting on her boyfriend's lap. I looked at her eyes, then I looked at her boyfriend's eyes. She said, 'you have alot to learn.' I said, 'Ha!' I pointed at the two of them. I shook my head no and said, 'you have alot to learn.' I imagined terrible relationships all over the country. I imagined four people in one house with horrible relationship. She was telling me I need to learn something about relationships. And when I disagreed I didn't disagree with that. I disagreed with the fact that people who have horrible relationships means they have alot to learn. Like there is some overarching truth that is applied to all relationships that makes them go on and on and on instead of ending. There are personal methods that line up with mental reasoning of the individual, aware and not aware. These methods exist in a situation by situation form. It is all improvised, and there are failures. I may be able to imagine talking to a girl in a romantic type way, but I think impersonal romance is ironic. My type of romance is determined heavily by the person being wooed. One time, few months ago, I read a poem to a girl and it was just the wrong time. She thought I wanted in her pants, I may have at one point, but that isn't why I showed her poems. I tried to lay down with her by being kind and gentle and loving and listen. I still had those things to give to her. When she sent the text message I didn't even think dealing with it was worth it. Because, eventually I was going to end that relationship because of her saying that. We had no chemistry. We clashed. I wasn't totally myself around her. I tried to reply and it wouldn't send. So I just went with it and I haven't talked to her since. She called once but I didn't answer. So, to imply that she doesn't have anything to learn because she is sitting on her boyfriend's lap (and it is a good steady healthy relationship), means to me that she needs to learn in public, outside of the school system, where troubles are everywhere. I see the leaning together. I just haven't been so lucky, pal, give it a rest. And learn about how trouble exists and it is a bigger thing, that surrounds us, inside alot of the people. You know what I mean buddy? Carhenge. Mall of America. Badlands. Hot Springs. Mt. Rushmore. Kanssas?

Jaguar,
Mike

carhenge

badlands

mall of america

hexapus with teeth wearing a hairpiece and looking at the suction cups that are pink for no reason

2008-03-08T02:19:00.000-08:00

I am love. I am the national book award.

2008-03-08T01:28:00.000-08:00

When I get the sensation of loneliness I think I start kind of dreaming. Not like surrealist bulshitstyle, but just thinking about various things. I think about people and things that have been said and the social dynamics of the situation and the way I walked through a couple rooms and the way people sat and who sat close to who and who looked and who like that and all the things I should be doing and the cats knocking stuff over and things from a long time ago and people that are gonegonefaraway. I don't think about these things one at a time. I think about one thing until it makes me think of another, then both thoughts exist in my head and I may go into the new thought and return to the old or continue on the new thought. It is an ishouldalike dream that doesn't progress, so much as it repeats with small variations.

Sometimes I feel like it is not lonely at all. I feel like it is partially lonely and partially hungry and thirsty. I keep touching a bump on my elbow that is there from bumping my elbow into the frame of a door. it is a little swollen. I keep touching my left elbow with my right hand, then I continue typing.

And the bottom line is made of proffesional wrestlers. Here is two lines from, 'sometimes i am a little bit happier than tao lin'(COMING IN THE NEXT COUPLE DAYS): I am love. I am the national book award.
Good things have come out of this book. I think it is funny.

The oddest time of my current life is walking from my car to my house late at night. No matter how long I have to walk, it is a special time of the day. It is very early and most of the other people awake are getting up instead of coming home. My natural sleeping times are fucked. I need to move to Hawaii or Japan, eventually. If i did this I would fall asleep at 11 or so, maybe 12 in Hawaii. A little later in Japan. There are other places. These are just the two places my cell phone time zones listed when I looked a while back.

sometimes i am a little bit happier than tao lin is coming out in unison with an interview with tao lin COMING SOON and another book called 'the gospel of tom cruise' COMING SOON I still need more submissions. I am taking it beyond the Tao Lin barrier at this point. I want writing that is made of ease and simple words. If you live in the variety and write about it. Send me. Come back in the next couple days to witness the devestating powerhouse moves of sometimes i am a little bit happier than tao lin. Get out your copy of you are a little bit happier than i am and read along. It is all the poems except the last one at this point. I may leave the last one out. I haven't decided yet. It is the one about the leftover crack concert. It makes me think about a blog like drunk, but instead of drinking and writing everyone is smoking crack and writing.

from The Gospel of Tom Cruise

2008-03-07T16:56:00.000-08:00

We walk through the hall passing doorways. There is a part of the flower underground. There’s a sleepy people walking through towns with hats on. Someone stands on top of a building speaking into a megaphone. I yell up to them. I try to yell louder than the megaphone can go. I run up the stairs and the door is locked when I get there. I look at you standing on the ground and shake my head as I walk down the stairs. You walk a little and stop and stand with your hands in your pockets. It’s cool. I lock doors everyday. We stand below the building listening, there is a sound louder than a megaphone. Pieces of building hit the ground. The megaphone hits the ground. More rubble crashes over us like a wave. We are buried under five stories of rubble wiggling our way through the pile yelling to one another. I whisper while metal and glass and concrete jab my body. I can hear the sound of you working through it where you are. The sun comes up and goes down and people are walking somewhere above us. I pass a body that is a little blue and continue. I hear you loudly. You are above me screaming through the megaphone. Pieces of the parts you are standing on fall through the debris and touch my face while I wiggle. I hear your voice for an entire day and I finally climb through and it is nighttime. There is a crowd of people wearing different kinds of equipment. I think about ET and drink water from a cup that is handed to me. I touch your ankles with my forehead. A supernova releases a large mass of energy and detonates far from our planet where a bird touches the ocean with its wing. You are here with me, handing my the jaguar and the lion, down the street from the mall. A box of nails next to a lighter on a counter. I think about seeing you when your not around and I get lightheaded a little and put my hand on my heart and think about the pledge a little while I count my heartbeats, watching the clock. A fire extinguisher attached to a wall next to a door. The car nears the intersection. The right blinker turns on. Someone walks into the road and stutter steps. The driver makes a motion offering. The person stands on the median. The car makes a u-turn around the median. A fluorescent light makes a high-pitched sound in the backroom of the gas station. The mop touches the ceramic, the mop moves circularly. An airplane disappears into a cloud, but there is still the sound of it. The octopus moves alone through the ocean, where it is dark. It gets dark here, too. But sometimes. And that’s enough, because I’m used to it now. I expect it and put my body weight into it to keep from flipping. I am not traveling to the part of the world that is bright all the time. We stir the mix together or I do nothing, and get useless. I watch TV and think about you. One star gravitates mass from another star and expands until it is unstable. A metal bike rack sits on the concrete surrounded by grass. Bill Murray eats chips out of a plastic bowl, he calls a contact from his cell phone. The sun is coming up. There is a tree with no leaves falling over. A bird flies from the tree. Someone slaps this printer and swears quietly. The gymnast’s feet touch the trampoline, then the gymnast spins in the air. Thousands of bats fly out of the cave where the river turns into a waterfall and continues underground. Bottle in a bag in a trashcan, mold on some food in a bowl covered with paper, the new sponges closer to the sink than the old sponges. I will tell you and tell you and tell you because I forget how it gets sometimes. The more I tell you, the more you remind me of. I’ll look at your face near your eyes and move my legs around while I talk to you. But forget it. It’s alright. I spit the rosary out and pick up the chopsticks. I’ll see you around.

some things about autism

2008-03-06T17:17:00.000-08:00

I cried a little when I heard the translation. I really relate to that. I got this video from this site. There are some other links there that I have not explored yet.

a grey person experiences t-shirt dejavu

2008-03-06T15:23:00.000-08:00

maskface on a stick

2008-03-04T01:16:00.000-08:00

a post that explodes privacy and shows things that we're meant to be hidden and deleted, entire text message exchange from Feb 23-Mar 3

2008-03-03T17:09:00.000-08:00

I just woke up from a dream where you and i were eating and someone came and sent me away and sat with you. I waited on your couch and you came home with dunn.

To: Kahlihari

Sent: Feb 23, 4:23 am

I went out on the balcony and tried to sleep out there. I could hear you two. I hear you say me and you are just friends. Then I am on a boat.

To: Kahlihari

Sent: Feb 23, 4:26 am

I am on the boat with a girl i dont know. Then I wake up, then I start sending you messages about it.

To: Kahlihari

Sent: Feb 23, 4:28 am

____________________________

From: Kahlihari

Oh darling, thank u for the midnight poetry. I'm about to eat some savory breakfast at max brenner's. Wish i could feed melted chocolate to you <3

Sent: Feb 23, 12:58 pm

____________________________

From: Kahlihari

Hello hello? I'm leaving new york soon. Will u call me sometime?

Sent: Feb 24, 11:12 pm

____________________________

From: Kahlihari

You wont pick up my call? Whats going on? I hope youre ok

Sent: Feb 25, 9:50 pm

_____________________________

From: Kahlihari

Beginning to think u dont give a shit. Hope i'm wrong.

Sent: Feb 26, 1:39 am

_____________________________

From: Kahlihari

Would you at least let me know youre ok? You might have lost your phone or something. But i'm worrying so please call me

Sent: Feb 26, 2:12 am

______________________________

From: Kahlihari

You think our relationship is superficial? Is that what I read online? You cant think of having a conversation with me without thinking about my body? yo

Sent: Mar 1, 10:25 pm

From: Kahlihari

u want to care more than you can? I'm so lost and hurt i think

Sent: Mar 1, 10:25 pm

_____________________________

That poem on there isnt about anyone. I was in a room full of people and it has more to do with that than anything. im sorry i havent been here

To: Kahlihari

Sent: Mar 1, 10:34 pm

____________________________

The poems where i talk about you i talk about how it is nothing personal and that it is circumstance. I imagine you with people physically closer and get scared.

To: Kahlihari

Sent: Mar 1, 10:37 pm

____________________________

And i know if i hear your voice i will know what has been happening and i am scared to know

To: Kahlihari

Sent: Mar 1, 10:38 pm

___________________________

From: Kahlihari

I wish you would talk to me... Guess theres nothing i can do. I guess its bad timing for me and you. Wish i was there or you were here cuz we'd make love

Sent: Mar 1, 10:53 pm

From: Kahlihari

all day instead of drowning in fear. And i'll still hold you close baby, my feeling bout you is severe, guess i just have to wait and hope you dont disa

Sent: Mar 1, 10:53

From: Kahlihari

ppear.

Sent: Mar 1, 10:53 pm

___________________________

I will call you sometime in the next few days or something. I just have to be right in my head. I just dont want to know right now.

To: Kahlihari

Sent: Mar 1, 11:13 pm

__________________________

From: Kahlihari

K babe. Dont mean to be harsh, just miss you and wish i could be closer to you so we might get to know each other better.

Sent: Mar 1, 11:18 pm

__________________________

Bye, Kahlihari.

To: Kahlihari

Sent: unsent

Drawings made by Liz Petro inspired by Dinosaur Dream #1

2008-02-28T13:03:00.000-08:00

I like both of these very much. One time, a couple years ago, Liz came up to me late on a weekend night. She asked me if I wanted to go to her place with her. I said yes, I went into my room and was very nervous when I was alone. I collected some things and went out. I felt cinematic. She was drunk as hell. She grabbed my crotch and looked at me while she was driving. I smiled and told her to look at the road. She would look at the road for a little bit, then come back to me. I liked it and felt unsafe. We got to her house. I had never been in that building before. I went in, there was a bike in the hallway. We walked around the bike. We went to her room and undressed in the bed. It felt lovely. She went to the bathroom. She came back and told me she was on her period. I minded, but I didn't mind at all. I was relieved in a way, at the time. We held each other. We talked. She went to Italy four days later.

short public letter to josh walker

2008-02-27T03:10:00.000-08:00

Josh,

I don't know why it feels better to write to you here. I think that the private side is always what brought us down. Things are moving here. I am in a good place. I am starting on Div III. The scramble is always stupid, but I can roll with the mole. I look around here and try to motivate people into a seriousness of purpose again. This time it is a little different. It is older, now. It has an inside and an outside. Revolting against Tao Lin reminds me of the days we would walk on the streets and impose the revolution on people passing us, very subtly. I think it is the kind of imposition that people of the revolution understand as revolutionary.

I walk around in my house. I touch my two cats with my hands and my face and I speak to them. It is certainly different living alone. The other day, when I walked to the car from the house, I carried a screwdriver just in case. Twice, when I was walking on the path to my house from the car I have heard voices. The first time I swear to go I heard Sam's voice and she said, 'Mike'. The voice came from all around me. When I heard it I looked up a little, kind of diagonally. I was not afraid. I purred and unlocked the door and touch my jacket above where my heart is. The next time I heard a deep low voice that didn't say any words. I got scared. I walked quickly up the stairs and turned around. I stood at the top of the stairs and pointed out. I scanned the surroundings with my finger, pointing at everything. I expected to see someone crossing the street or something, but no one was around. That was the time before I carried the screwdriver to the car.

I bet the show went well. No one can play music like Michael Jackson's Nose. Barrrrck. I am very busy all the time. I try to keep my hands full. I have many plates and many stomachs right now. I think the demon you saw in your dreams on Main St. was real. You should stay till May, but then you should come back over here. Things are moving a little. And I am sure we can figure how to make them move more. I am glad that the time we had together in the past is over, and when we start over it is all new. We needed a shake up. It is like when two powerful stars rotate too close and they exchange mass with one another until both are unstable. But feet are here, where the ground is.

Jaguar,

Mike

The grey part of the orange

2008-02-27T02:51:00.000-08:00

My belt touches my pants while I walk through the hall under the lights.

I write to you and keep it for myself. I cook noodles and pace.

The gutter comes off of the building at an angle and the water curves towards the ground.

We look around the room, looking at people and things. We talk and make eye contact,

sometimes. A part of the treehouse falls out of the tree. No one is near the tree.

An animal is burrowing under the tree. A cloud moves slowly above the tree.

I throw my body on the bed and think about how it would feel to discuss something

with you and not think about your body. I remember looking at your clothes

while you wore them, and imagining what made them that shape.

Telephone wires with a little slack. The animal in the tent near the bleachers.

That cloth that moves circularly. What is the matter? I want to care more than I can.

I carry a bag on my shoulder and walk from the parking garage to the street to think about you under this lightbulb that isn't on

2008-02-24T16:29:00.000-08:00

I have been walking around and driving around. It is weird weather up here. I sit an home and think with no electronics on. I plan. I am working on many books right now. I have four days to complete I am a Little Bit Happier Than Tao Lin and one day to post it all. There is a mass of snow falling off the roof onto the pile next to the house. It shakes the house. I shake someone's hand inside the house. It is warm here. I didn't get drunk yesterday. I rarely do. I don't even really think about it that often. When I do I get a pain in my stomach, sometimes. I have a sensitive stomach and sensitive teeth.

America is home of car henge. It is also home of Mt. Rushmore. Mall of America is in America.

At my friend's house, there are piles of clothes. There is a box with XBOX360 games and a projector in it. There is a bed here and a tv, and a computer. The heat is on here, the thermostat says 56.

TAO LIN! Expand your images spatially! You have a more expansive mind than you show me.

Tao Lin walks through the city and thinks about things in depth. He is a very smart person in public and private. His books are good, there aren't many people that have books out that write as well as he can. I think there are alot of people that write as powerfully as he does. I am not as distant as Tao Lin. I feel emotions like he does. I think we are pretty similar, as far as form goes. He thinks he is better than other people, and I don't do that anymore. I used to. I believe in revolting against him because he is in a good position to help expand the writing community, but his social stresses get in the way. There are possibilities for a marketable poetry community. The poetry being written now is powerful, there are powerful writers that connect with people that live daily lives. This connection is marketable to people outside of the poetry niche. I hate the poetry niche because I don't like much poetry. Most poetry just looks like the possibility of poetry to me.

Promo:

Don't forget, I got the belt. That means everything in this business. Tao Lin thinks he can take the belt. He thinks he deserves the belt for being the greatest. But I got a message for you, Tao Lin: postcinema is the greatest. Tao Lin, I am the prettiest writer alive. You can see me walking around on the earth from outerspace. You got no chance. I am going to get you groggy, wandering around the squared circle. I will climb the top rope. When you are shaking your head and coming to I will jump from the top rope and grab the back of your head while I am in the air. As I land on the mat I will pull your forehead into my knees and you will feel the force the Crumbler. You will lay on the mat, not moving, as I pin you 1 - 2 - 3. I'm gonna get there early and sit in every seat in the arena. I want to know what the ring will look like from every angle as I destroy your egoface and retain the belt.

from 'i am a little bit happier than tao lin' coming out on bore parade March 1st

2008-02-20T01:17:00.000-08:00

i honestly know who this poem is directed at and i write it with conviction and ease

____

part of your philosophy of life is that you don't want any drugs or any drunk

you are nihilistic daily but you still care about the environment somehow

your worldview is that gmailchat, tao lin, and vegans are

the best

your belief system is that tonight you are going to be bored

you are an asshole to other people because of the human condition,

existentialism, and your high IQ

you would rather punch someone in the face and kill them than have them think you might be

overcome with happiness

your greatest accomplishment in life is keeping a calm face when you are nervous

I go to the store, get pasta and cat food, cook pasta, feed cats, send text message, watch cats play in water

2008-02-20T00:58:00.000-08:00

audio and text coming soon

supermarket nightmare #3, dinosaur dream #1

2008-02-18T00:52:00.000-08:00

This is a video of me reading dinosaur dream #1 for supermarket nightmare #3. You can see chiefrunningtears cleaning up on the bed behind me.

the jaguar uprising continues

2008-02-17T21:37:00.000-08:00

last night I began my e-maIl campaign against tao lin. I wrote to gawker a couple times and ron silliman and some other small places. Today, ron silliman posted a link to the tao lin uprising page. I am convinced this is a newsworthy feud that will carry on. I hope more people join the war. Kenda linked to silliman, go to her page to see. My internet has mysteriously gone down. I fear tao lin is behind it. I had to drive around to find service to post from today. The uprising will continue. I am gathering troops. I hope to get some bore parade submissions soon. I know that 'I am a little bit happier than tao lin' and 'zzzzzz zzz zzzz' are coming out in the next week or so. stay tuned. much more revolutionary antics to come. And I will post a prettier post when I can sit somewhere other than my car. My car is in a parking spot and people an d cars are passing me. I feel like I should get arrested doing this. But there is no police car here right now. It is raining a little, and I miss all of you deeply. Write to me. Send bore parade some revolutionary lit.

Tao Lin gets eaten by a doughnutperson

2008-02-16T02:27:00.000-08:00

updates

2008-02-15T16:15:00.000-08:00

added the about / classics page to bore parade. We don't have any classics, so I just put both words on the one link. This page is very similar to the bear parade about page. There is information about submission to bore parade here. Jaguar uprising, they are on the run.

Also the first update to supermarket nightmare #3 went up. You can see that here. This is a picture of a Bannana brand banana truck. There person driving this truck has on a banana hat and yellow clothes. Wait till you see his shoes.

Steal each other from each other please

2008-02-15T00:56:00.000-08:00

my nose is bleeding in my sleep
I spit in my sleep and it lands on your cheek
you wake up and get a paper towel to clean things
you wash the spit off your face with my blood on the paper towel

some water touches all sides of the boat
fifty feet off the shore of a lake
where some bugs fly above the reeds coming out of the water

there are stacks of things on every surface in this house
the cats knock things over here
I call you to tell you about it
but you don’t pick up
so I leave a message about something else

two llamas and a woman wearing a hat
walk through the town at the base of the mountain
someone flies a model airplane near the church

I think about you wearing clothes in a crowd
I hop from one tile to the next in the kitchen
while the water boils
listen
I touch my ear to the window you smack the window and laugh standing outside
I climb to the top of the house and ride the pterodactyl down to you

forget it
crowd surf
eat a half dried noodle with a fork

Gabcast! on earth through nothing with ease #8 - steal each other from each other please

To Tao Lin, a sheepherder to our rowdy roddy piper

2008-02-14T14:50:00.000-08:00

see here for back story, post and comments. Finally a good feud. Tao Lin will never take the belt.

brain attack

2008-02-12T21:31:00.001-08:00

I hear the plow trucks and the icesnow because my window is open. The cats like the window more when it is open. I can't open it too much, or the cats will stand up and squeeze between the screen and the window. I can't have any of that. What if the screen popped out and the cat fell out and landed in the snow? I might go out the window after it, if that happened. I am on the first floor. If I went around and used the doors the cat would probably run away. It's not the right season for taking cats for walks.

I don't like post-modernism. I think it is pretty boring. I can snooze to a tape of someone talking about post-modernism. But that is the best thing about it. It hurts my heart and makes me shake my head. That time is long past. Postmodernism is definately over. It's boringly over. Naptime style. But now there will be a whole lot of other posts. I feel like we will say post everything, all the things, we will go through them like we went through isms.

Alot of the stuff I like is postirony. That stuff tries to be funny, and funny is tough when you are alone so I honor that. Internet writing is good enough, I like the writers who talk about themselves as the internet school of poetry, there is some postirony in them. I think that the internet school of poetry is kind of a weak thing to call it. I will put post in front. The postinternet writers are kind of like prerobot writers, postinternet will slowly lead us to the poets who can write the best programs to write poems. The postinternet writers get to feel patronized without economic impact. This might aid in a constant removed feeling of disconnection that is eventually generative.

I think I can describe the way that The Golden Bear, Two Tears Boye, and The Industry write as postcinematic. The structure of the narration includes a detatched nonpersonal perspective that interacts with landscape and people outside of the main narrative, as well as a point of view that follows and is related to a main character. Often, postcinematic writing plays on the separation between television and viewer, bringing the reader close in, focusing on compassion and caring even with all of the mess everywhere. There is a focus on spaces and spatial movement. This could be a style heavily influenced by suburb and semicity life.

There are a few people I know that don't write as a primary activity. These people go to writing for lack of anything else to do at that time. They don't come from any studied background, and thier life experience is what makes up the strong poetic voice. I think of this writing as postpoetry. Jordan Branson, Josh Walker, and Eric Pizzola write postpoetry. I think that when these writers write it becomes poetry because they think in conversational fragments, not prosaic sentences. There are millions of people like this. I imagine postpoetry is written in text messages.

All of these posts are really similar, they are probably all postavant. But there are variations. Postinternet poetry doesn't prove to me that it cares about anyone. Postpoetry cares about alot of things, but writing isn't the focus. It can become the focus, given the circumstances, and it is usually temporarily. Contemporary postmodernism is for people who can't sleep and need to sleep really really bad, I'm talkin last resort. And postcinematic writing is working out the kinks. All I can hope for is to have competing brands that can cut promos on each other.

See a post someone wrote on the 13th about post as a prefix here.
First use of postavant.

the worm shows off it's clothes to the creature with no body

2008-02-11T21:52:00.001-08:00

+MEGA UPDATE++

soon with full audio

from On Earth Through Nothing With Ease

I was looking for you and I didn’t tell you
some machines are bled
some machines are blessed
some machines are distraction
a black bird with an iridescent head and yellow beak
flies between power lines between a tree and a stop sign
four small birds land on the asphalt and jump around
pecking the smallest parts of food left over
underneath
i step from one step to another
you are a door
here the rust is on the poles that hold the streetlights
and other places too
and rusty things get replaced
and we can relate to a lifespan
look
i realize there’s a lot out there these days
but it too deceivingly small and ridiculous
it is too violent and boring for a human mind to rely on
i know it is long days in the hot and lusty but
it is worth when it happens to remember in this
world of too much that this world is not enough this is pretty nice
don’t get me wrong we have come a long way but please
there are more rewarding relaxations in life
we are nothing special but we have the ability to understand and examine and leave artifacts on purpose in public
I don’t know so i try to find things one at a time and forget
just as fast sometimes but not always and sometimes it all comes back
forget it
here is a little hesitation in the question
how do you spell that again
I placed my hand on the shark then my hand touched the water as it sank
there is no proper way to live
there is no conspiracy
don’t worry
it’s all a hoax
and placed the book on the table and began to cry loudly
the water boils and it is not enough on it’s own
if you trust it there is still no definite outcome
the horse takes off over the hedges and makes a sound with it’s throat
the plastic cup sits on the table
we sit with it
empty along with it
how’s the new thing going I forgot what you called it the other day
I don’t need you like I used to I am glad you are far away right now
the individual garbages melt into one large lumpy thing
it’s easy to forget it
the walk down the hall is usually meaningless
but that doesn’t mean there is no hope
I take the useless and find a way to fear it
when the slowly slowly moving is not enough distraction
to survive on a pair of shoes on feet walking in a circle
he leans off the edge of the dock peeing on
a burning boat sinking into water
who do you call
who do you call when everyone is sleeping
I leave you a message of a couple sentences
my voice offers no urgency or desperation
I am sitting in the parking lot of McDonalds
farting and laughing to myself
as I eat fry after nugget
something someone has said to me
remains in my head and it is louder than everything
echoing and getting louder
I was four the first time it happened
the light was on and I was in bed trying to sleep
helicopters over the city covered in blinking bulbs
the pole between the car and the white truck
the fixtures in the diner covered in dust
and swaying in the gusts that come in when the door opens
come in come on in
I mean I refuse to hold your hand or lead you to the door
but I will grab a paper towel or something
if I can help
we gotta understand these things first hand
I hear about it and kind of forget it
and am never reminded of it
and that was a good story too
I remember the painfully empty everydays everyday
when I am alone it is embarrassing slightly
and I go to the same websites over and over
I still have love for you
and I hope it still means as much
in the digitally compressed file
a ship in the ocean with water going into the air around it
a ship in the ocean with water covering the deck and fish in the water
a ship nest to the fish slightly under the surface of the ocean
in a convenience store two people don’t have enough for condoms
one of them suggests the pullout method
and walks over to the cooler
opens it and grabs a water
a hand putting money on a counter
the pocket on the shirt of a clerk in the bag counting boxes
Bruce Willis is sitting in the fifth row of the quietly dark theatre
watching one of his daughters perform in a high school play
a naturally mummifies body lays on the ground in the jungle
thousands of miles from the city
watching a squirrel run around the tree then into a hole in the tree
reminds me a multi-dimensional universe
and I fly up until the planet looks flat
and perfectly round
I fly up until the galaxy looks flat
and surrounded by other flat galaxies that we can
go inside and find the details
of the planets and their landscapes
here
someone hands someone a nightclub flyer
continues walking
and offers flyer to the next person nearing
a jungle with natives standing in it
a native with a headdress of grass
standing in front of a camera
a mother flips through catalogs walking through the living
room and finds her son passed out on the floor
between the tv and the couch
the tear moves pretty
fast down the cheek
and thins slightly on the skin
then it is absorbed by the sleeve that wipes it away
we’ve gotten ourselves into a tough spot
one of the tires is up on the snow bank
one of tire spins just above the ground
the window is open
an arrow with a rope tied to it flies through the room into the wall
how did you find out
a body with a wound in a bed
a quivering hand pushes the tray off the table
and this distance
our distance
the damn distance only grows
a grappling hook catches on each one of our limbs
the ropes go taut and we are suspended in the air
but these ropes drop and we drop with them
I’ll meet you up there
I try not to eat fast food everyday
I dance with the lion
in the top of the tree
on the sidewalk of the city
come on let’s go
there’s a seat for you here
it is warm and near a pillow
the wind is here with us
slightly moving the fabrics draped on us
I love you I care about you
I am afraid you will turn on me at any moment
so I keep to myself for most of it
a feather in the helmet on the ground
make-up moving down a face in a tear
the hand smears the mark across the cheek
is loving and only trying to help
but we break together sometimes
this little fire is nice
but if you move closer it will spread
these are dynamic smoke signals finding you through time to say
it’s all okay no matter what no matter what it’s all okay
something dripping from a car into a puddle on the concrete
a bird calling repeatedly from a roof near a tree
light moving from that clock face to my face
light moving from that clock tower to you
there are no breakthroughs here
it remains
it feels like a breakthrough but it remains
and was here and hidden
we pass on and disintegrate
keeps us in bed and on the earth with diamonds
these words are my prism
I am spectral and usual
you are the furnace fire and the coal of our engine
a little human being inside a construction machine
planets and galaxies and universes die
where is that afterlife of heavenly bodies
rotating in peace without the explosions
one dense particle in the center of nothing
unimaginable nothing
and we will return to nothingness
and become unimaginable
and dissolve into the whole again
I am a life form with an ego in this world
and I cast it off into the ocean
and cast my heart in it to survive
swelling wave
field of wheat
crowd of hands swaying
wheels carrying the wagon on the gravel to somewhere else
this food sizzles on the metal pan in the burner
I have been born into a game with no teams

supermarket nightmare #3 preview

2008-02-10T21:06:00.001-08:00

This is audio only, and kind of a shifty audio at that. Some words are muffled a little. To see text version go here on friday. After friday I will be posting one chapter a day, everyday, until a couple days after my birthday.

Gabcast! on earth through nothing with ease #7 - supermarket nightmare #3 preview

untitled supermarket nightmare #3

2008-02-10T07:17:00.000-08:00

From Sunday 20th of May until Monday 21st of August Chris Killen wrote the first untitled 'supermarket nightmare', which you can read here. When Chris finished writing the 100 pages he had said he would write he offered to pass the book on to the person who offered to write the most chapters. He passed it on to Duncan Cheshire, you can read supermarket nightmare #2 here. Duncan is writing 127 chapters, and he is almost done. It is a story with an I that works in a supermarket, there is love and dynamic systems where love moves through time. There is a girl named Carol and she has a knee. Duncan is currently holding the chapter offer for supermarket nightmare #3. I am in the running. I can not tell you how long I offered to make #3. This contest is not over yet. But I made an honorable offer that keeps in mind the accumulated time put into 1 and 2. Really I got an email telling me I am in the lead by a bit, so I am excited. I would love to carry on something started by people I do not know. The only rule is that you have to post one chapter everyday. I can take the story wherever it goes. I am thinking about the bannana delivery person. They will ride around a bit, they will see old characters in spread out grocery stores. The I will now work in a convienience store, because I have more experience with that. I may add a 'you' to this story. I am excited. You can see the page for supermarket nightmare #3 here, with no chapters written yet. Originally I was going to use this site to make a long slideshow about a catsociety that uses catmoney and everycat wants more catmoney. All the cats have money, but they just want a little more in the steady cash flow catstory. The steady cash flow w/ catmoney picture is staying on the site, it will just go to the bottom eventually. Maybe the catpeople will appear in the supermarket nightmare. I know one new character in the story is Percy Pringle, the person who plays Paul Barer (small man in the suit in the reality of death promo). In real life he runs a funeral home, and in this story he will have just retired wrestling, and is trying to adjust to the funeral home that is near the store the I works at. Exciting developments.

wrestler entering arena under titontron

2008-02-10T07:09:00.000-08:00

Joe Lindsay, The Golden Bear, introduction, The Showcase of the Immortals

2008-02-08T16:50:00.000-08:00

+UPDATE+ This story was viewed by L3-NM-254.wwe.com (63.208.148.254) in Stamford, Ct. (home of wwe headquarters) at 11:31 in the afternoon on February 8th. +UPDATE+

The Showcase Of The Immortals

by Joe Lindsay

“We are all mortals. Our bodies, though strong, can’t defy time. One day, we will die. What matters most is the legacy we leave behind. Did we become all that we are capable of becoming? Did we make the difference we came here to make? Did we pursue our dreams when all around us thought we were chasing illusions? Only those that dare to rise are able to lift themselves above horizons. Only those bold enough, to chase dreams, are the ones who catch them. Wrestlemania. The Showcase of the Immortals."

-Promotional material for Wrestlemania XX

This is it. Wrestelmania, the big time, the granddaddy of them all, the global phenomenon. This is the culmination of 365 days on the road,of near constant travel by the men and women who have earned the right to call themselves “professional” professional wrestlers. This is the finale of their performances in arenas across the country and across the world. Wrestlemania is their reward for taking right hands in Topeka, and for dishing them back out in Tucson. Wrestlemania is a thank you for the cheap heat in New York City and the big spot in New Orleans. Wrestlemania is the reason for the razor blades in Vegas, the chokeholds in Orlando, and the chops in D.C. The promise of Wrestlemania keeps them awake on the sleepless bus ride from Biloxi to Memphis, it is on their minds in Minneapolis staring at the ceiling of the small hotel room, waiting for room service. Wrestlemania had nothing to do with the drunken plane ride to Mexico City. It had everything to do with the concussion in London and the painkillers in the airplane bathroom on the way back home. Wrestlemania is the result of that promo in Green Bay, and the mixed tag match in Kansas City, the Cage in Philadelphia and the double count out in Houston that almost caused a riot. We are here. This is it. This is Madison Square Garden, New York City.
This is Wrestlemania XX, The Showcase of Immortals. Of course Wrestlemania sold-out the Garden. Over 20,000 people of all races, creeds, and colors flowed into that building, cramming in the concrete cavern. They walked through the labyrinth of tunnels and stairs deep in the bowels of the arena, clutching their homemade signs. They bought t-shirts, hats, and programs. They bought popcorn, they bought beer, they bought bratwursts. It was 40 bucks a pop for one of the nosebleeds. At face value, ringside seats were just a shade under a thousand dollars, but guys were selling them online for ten times that.
The focus of all the attention is a small structure in middle of the hollow shell that is the Garden. The professional wrestling world revolves around the ebb and flow in this ring, around the action on top of a 20 ft by 20ft piece of blue canvas. All eyes are on it.

****

We’re live. Beamed via dish, cable, and satillite into homes in 90 different countries.
Howard “The Fink” Finkel is in the ring. He is the ring announcer for the event. Howard is wearing a tuxedo and holding a microphone. He addresses the crowd,
“Ladies and Gentleman, here to sing America the Beautiful, the world-renowned Boy’s Choir of Harlem”.
The Boys Choir of Harlem is grouped in the middle of the ring. They are wearing matching red suits and red bow ties. Each boy had his right hand on the right shoulder of the boy in front of him. Accompanied by a soft, lilting piano, they begin to sing.
O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!
As the boys sing, images are projected onto the big screen in the middle of the arena. At home, these images fade in and out of television sets. They all touch on a common theme. A baby is asleep in a red, white, and blue stroller, the flag still clutched in his right hand. A Navy officer, in full dress blues, salutes the rippling stars and stripes. A young girl perched atop her dad’s shoulders, one hand running through his curly hair, the other frantically waving a small American flag. A group of three fire fighters, heads up, walked bravely, defiantly, in front of the unfurling flag.

America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

The boys are still singing in the center of the ring. On the screen a tank rolls through a deserted desert, silhouetted by a wavering orange-red setting sun. A man in camouflage fatigues looks down. Fighter planes. Cheering troops.

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!

The screen shows us the crowd. A lot of them are waving flags as well. A group of three guys are holding pieces of yellow posterboard in the air. One of the pieces says, U, the other says S, and the third says A. The boys keep singing.

America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

The finale is a computer-generated New York City skyline. The “Freedom Tower” which has not been built yet, stands where the World Trade Towers used to be. The skyline glows against the black backdrop. The boys finish singing. Red, white, and blue streamers drop from the rafters. The fans cheer. They real show is about to start. The lights go out. The fans scream.

A Brief Video Montage.

VOICE OVER NARRATION: Twenty years ago, one man had a vision. It began here, and it would change our world. As the vision grew, we cheered it on. Stood in awe. Held on to our seats, and gave up our hearts. We watched with utter disbelief. Stunned Silence, and sheer amazement. We’ve been inspired and enriched by the vision.

“LATINO HEAT” EDDIE GUERRERO: “Sometimes things in your life are so special, that words cannot explain”.

“THE NEXT BIG THING” BROCK LESNAR: “The history, alone in that place makes Madison square garden special.

DWAYNE “THE ROCK” JOHNSON: “My family is going to come there, my mom, my wife, my dad, my daughter”

JOHN CENA “THE DR. OF THUGGANOMICS”: “Everything I’ve ever wanted out of life has come down to this one day, to this one short period of time”

“THE CRIPPLER” CHRIS BENOIT: “My passion, the thing you dream about and consumes you.”

“THE WRESTLING MACHINE” KURT ANGLE: “People are going to remember this forever”

MICK “MANKIND” FOLEY: “People are going to say, you know what, that match was worth coming back to”

“THE BIG SHOW” PAUL WIGHT: “You haven’t lived, you haven’t breathed, since you’ve danced at Wrestlemania.”

VOICE OVER NARRATION: Tonight will be like no other. Tonight is the showcase of the immortals. They will achieve the impossible and forge new beginnings. Tonight men will chase down their dreams. Tonight no one holds back. And tonight is where it all begins, again.

The video ends; cue the fireworks. They come blazing down from the rafters, along the entrance ramp, shooting from the ring posts themselves. The official Wrestlemania XX theme song blares from the loudspeakers.

“1, 2, 3 - Go!
Broken,
Yeah, you've been living on the edge of a broken dream.
Nothing,
Yeah, that's the only thing you'll ever take away from me.
I'm never gonna stop,
I'm never gonna drop,
Ain't no different than it was before.
So take some good advice,
You better stop and think twice,
Before you take your first step,
Out that door.”

A man shouts over the chaos,

“This is the pomp, the pageantry, and the passion, known as Wrestlemania XX!!”

Jim Ross, or Good Ol’ J.R. as he’s known to wrestling fans, handles the telecast. A mush-mouthed Oklahoman in a black Resistol Cowboy Hat, J.R. has been the voice of World Wrestling Entertainment for nearly a decade. There are few in the game that do it better than him.

“Welcome to the sold-out Madison Square Garden in New York City. Where tonight, Raw and Smackdown Superstars have the chance to earn they way into immortality. Hello everybody, I’m Jim Ross, alongside Jerry ‘The King’ Lawler. King, I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready than I am tonight for Wrestlemania XX.”

*****

Over the next two hours, wrestlers will perform “Wrestlemania XX” for the crowd. The do what they do best, pretend to beat the living shit out of one another. They slapped, clawed, slammed, choked, whipped, kneed, kicked, punched, chopped, and tossed each other from one end of the ring to the other. They hit each other with chairs, they jumped at each other from ladders, they smashed one another through tables.
That night, in the main event, “The Crippler” Chris Benoit defeated “The Heart Break Kid” Shawn Michaels and “The Game” Triple H in a Triple Threat match for the World Heavyweight Title.
After 27 minutes and 45 seconds a bloody Triple H tapped out to Chris Benot’s “Crippler Crossface” submission hold. Chris Benoit had won the World’s title at Wrestlemania XX in front of a sold out Madison Square Garden crowd. It was the crowning achievement of his nearly 20 year professional wrestling career.
12 Wrestlemania matches, including 7 title defenses, made it a long night for Good Ol’ J.R. He was horse as he made the call.
“Benoit has locked in the Crossface! Benoit has gotten him in the Crossface! Triple H is desperate, the sense of urgency is overwhelming. The champion is reaching for the ropes. When will triple H tap? Can Benoit do it? Triple H is fading away, as Benoit is this close to winning the Heavyweight Championship of the World. Triple H is being tortured by the Wolverine. He is torturing the champion with the Crossface! Will he tap out? Will the champion tap out?”
J.R.’s voice was a rasping yell as Benoit continued to wrench Triple H,
“The title is on the line! Benoit is ripping the champions head off!”
It’s too much for the champ. He raises his had and slaps it back on the mat. He has tapped out, said “uncle,” given up.
J.R. is still going, “It’s over! It’s over”
Howard Finkel comes over the P.A. “the winner of this bout and NEWWWW World Heavyweight Champion, Chris Benoit!”
Chris Benoit lay facedown on the canvas. He was crying. Not just crying, sobbing. His tears mixed with the blood and sweat that stained the blue canvas. The ref walked over to Benoit and handed him the belt. Benoit held it with both hands. And for a moment, just a moment he became what he once was, a skinny fifteen year old kid from Edmonton, Alberta with a dream, a good work ethic, and a whole lot of good luck.
J.R. has not stopped shouting.
“This sold out crowd at Madison Square Garden has erupted! Chris Benoit’s eighteen year oddessey has culminated by winning the World’s Heavyweight title at Wrestlemania XX!”
That brief moment of boyishness faded far quicker than it came.
As Chris Benoit rose to his feet the years visibly, rapidly, piled onto his shoulders. Benoit was losing his hair, he was missing a tooth, he had lost most of the feeling in his right arm, he had had his neck surigically put back together.
But as the new champion raised his title in the air, the illuminated Wrestlemania XX logo looming behind him, it was clear that this night belonged to Chris Benoit.
“Benoit, so many times, has been so close. Year after year, mile after mile, continent after continent. But Benoit never gave up, he never gave up. Benoit has done it. Benoit is living his dream. Finally, finally, by God, finally. Chris Benoit has become the Heavyweight champion of this world!”
As J.R. continued his call, another man entered the ring. Benoit turned around. It was his best friend, fellow wrestling champion, Eddie Guerrero. Guerrero was slowly clapping in honor of his friend. They moved together and hugged, Benoit’s eyes welling up with tears.
“Eddie Guerrero with a heartfelt embrace on his friend Chris Benoit. These two men have traveled the world over so many times, and they are both shedding tears of joy, because Chris Benoit can say ‘I won the Heavyweight Championship of the World in Madison Square at Wrestlemania XX”
Eddie Guerrero lifted Chris Benoit’s arm in the air, as confetti filled the arena. The moment became a part of Wrestling’s mythology. It became an iconic image of the sport, of the culture, of the industry. The official theme song echoed in the background.

You had your chance to walk away.
Live to see another day.
And now you've crossed that line...
You must be out your mind.
Go.

______________________________________

There was some formatting that was lost in the transfer.

You can visit the Golden Bear's official blog at http://thegoldenbearsofficialblog.blogspot.com/

things that happen in the duration of an episode of American Idol

2008-02-07T19:35:00.000-08:00

the video is 20 seconds longer than the audio, but it is very ambient video, so don't worry about any kind of timing.

Gabcast! on earth through nothing with ease #6 - things that happen in the duration of an episode of American Idol

the sidekick on wheels returns the frisbee to the MGM racer

2008-02-06T04:37:00.000-08:00

Frank Stanford

2008-02-05T17:01:00.000-08:00

article about the life of Frank Stanford:

http://poetryfoundation.org/journal/feature.html?id=181083

slowly, window water

2008-02-04T00:35:00.000-08:00

Video is a few seconds longer than audio, so it is best to start the video then start the audio seven seconds later.

on earth through nothing with ease #5 - Slowly, window water

Silent Skydive
value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3_wAccjp7ek&rel=1">

Slowly, Window Water

I walk through the tall grass towards the supermarket
there are streetlights on and some car noise over there
I kneel in the grass and my hair moves in the wind
the grass moves in the wind
and the garbage near the curb moves in the wind on the parking lot
someone standing in a shopping cart throws a mug on to the concrete
I jump out of the grass and hit your shoulder with my shoulder and smile at you
you push me back into the grass I laugh I wave when I walk away
the milk coats the glass she drinks from I hear a radio from a car
a little runs down her collar and he hands her a napkin then
he looks at his cellphone in the low light of the restaurant
you skip with me on the concrete I sit on a curb and look in your eyes
what is it
what’s wrong?
they dance touching each other they move their hips in unison
and touch each other and worry the other is edging away
to somewhere else without them
they eventually dance alone and move between the dancing bodies
the balloon moves towards the clouds
slowly
the balloon gets so small
a child grabs a metal bat and walks on the dirt towards the umpire
while the catcher talks to the pitcher standing on the mound
this cat circles the house meowing loudly near the window
the cat stands on the mower and nuzzles against the window
I say ‘how was your night?’ to you on instant messenger
you don’t respond
a few hours later I send ‘hello’ and then a couple hours after that ‘okay,’ ‘goodnight’
the ringtone lets me know I have a text message
I see a message from an old friend
‘I really miss you a lot right now.’
I send ‘yea, I was always most comfortable with you’
there is the ringtone ‘sorry I meant that for Tiff’ I send ‘okay’ and go play a videogame
a train moves underground nearing the city
I step on the vehicle and invite you inside
there is a box under a staircase
the clouds move over the forest slowly
then crash against the mountains and hover above the lake
we go to different places on the earth and I don’t see you for a long time
I send an e-card with pictures of birds in trees
a submarine submerges and goes silent
water evaporates from the top of the ocean it starts to rain here
the water touches the inside of the bucket
a hand picks up the bucket
water touches the window
the empty bucket touches the ground
I sing to you from inside the sonar
a crowbar touches a forehead and
the forehead touches the grass

some of the best poetry of the 70s-90s, pure grit of the USA (try playing all of them at once)

2008-02-02T22:51:00.000-08:00

---UPDATED POST+

I got Elvis On the Line

Don't Smoke!!!

Just Hold On To The Biggest Back in the World And I will Dog Paddle Us, Backstroke Us to Saftey

I Have Come To Do No One No Harm

I am the Reality of Death

1988 - I've Got the House, the Cars, and the Girls

Joe "the Golden Bear" Lindsay helped me find some of these. We talked on instant messenger. He is working on a paper about Chris "The Rabid Wolverine" Benoit exploring the brain trauma Benoit sustained as a professional wrestler. There will be some history and some context. I got him to agree on instant messenger to let me post it here in sections. So soon there will be sections of the Golden Bear's take on the Benoit tradgedy. I am excited about that being here. Also there will soon be a slideshow where the grey person plots to put yetis in a pool of coins and double fourtunes. There is some light here, and I am not that thirsty. The kittens are behaving and growing up. I put some wet food on the plate and suddenly it was gone. I am impressed.

catperson

2008-02-01T01:53:00.000-08:00

The multi faced monster slaps the soda machine

2008-01-29T02:48:00.000-08:00