Category Archives: Lists

The Age of O

Q: I heard you wrote a novel.

A: Yes, yes I have. Well, I am. It’s actually a novel in seven parts. I published the first part.

Q: Where can I buy this novel?

A: Well, you can buy it on Amazon right here: Link to Amazon, Age of O Page!

Q: What’s it about?

A: Well, that’s a spring loaded question. It could be answered in many ways. It’s about a man named Gregory Facilovich who has decided to leave his wife and child at the end of the current week. For some time, he has been writing his memoirs, and over this final week he’s making his final edit. He is writing the memoirs for a specific person. Greg also has the ability to drink any amount of alcohol and never get drunk.

Q: Wait, really?

A: Well, yes. Really. For serious.

Q: This sounds boring.

A: Well, that’s technically not a question, but that’s alright. It’s not boring, I assure you. There is some exciting stuff in there. And some funny stuff, too. Some parts could be considered boring, but that’s okay, they’re necessary. Also, he doesn’t tell anyone about his ability.

Q: I don’t care about that part anymore. Did you say this is the first of seven?

A: Well, yes. Over the last two years, I wrote the first four, and am editing and preparing these others for publication. I was going to wait until all seven were done and publish it as one whole book, as I planned it, and then I realized nobody wants to read a thousand page book, period.

Q: Why did you call it The Age of Zero?

A: Well, I didn’t. It’s actually called The Age of O, like the letter, though I could see how you could think it was the title if you had only read it.

Q: Did you just write a book with the narrator being a thinly-veiled version of you?

A: No. Well, I love baseball and alcohol gets me pretty loaded, last time I checked. And my protagonist is thirty and married. I am twenty-four and unmarried, last time I checked.

Q: Did you start this ambitiously big project with no idea where it was really going?

A: Well, no. I know exactly where it’s going and how it’s going to end, and have known since (before) I started. This isn’t Lost or The X-Files. There is a map, and it’s in my pocket at all times.

Q: Why did you write this novel?

A: Well, a fairy spoke to me one day while I was living in a farmhouse, and I wrangled it into this cage and talked with it until it gave me the whole plot. You have to argue with these fairies, show them you’re serious. Also, I decided to write the novel I always wanted to read.

Q: So, I’ve gotten this far in this imaginary interview. What is the book really about?

A: Well, it would be accurate to say that this is my attempt to write The Great American Novel. It’s about experience, pain, reform, education, health, war, marriage, art and America itself. Not too sound heavy.

Q: That sounds really heavy.

A: You’d think so. But, well, at certain parts there may or may not be cowboys, explosions, shootings, poisonings, an Olympiad, holes in the earth, golfing, a wedding, extensive drug abuse and a movie. There also may be none of these things.

Q: So, this is all told in first-person from this characters point of view?

A: Well, large parts of it. The rest of the story is told through third-person documents.

Q: Now, I saw somewhere that this is set in an alternate America. What does that mean exactly?

A: Well, there are a few noticeable differences, but those are largely fictional conceits. This isn’t sci-fi or some wacky Marvel alternate universe or some dystopian zombie infested thrillride. Consider this your current, everyday America, circa 2010.

Q: Is every social institution corrupt or run by unqualified invalids?

A: Well, yes. Laughably so. I mean, really. Look around. C’mon now, let’s be adults.

Q: That cover looks sharp. Who designed it?

A: A toothless trucker I met in Culver City named Harrison Langohr. He runs a magazine called Haz-Mat. He’s an animal. And a lover of fruit baskets.

Q: Who are your influences?

A: Well, I have many influences. When I began this project, I intended to mix themes and ascetics from certain works by Mann, Ford, Camus, Tolstoy and Vonnegut. In large part, those ideas remained intact. That is, if they were beaten in the head with a billy club and fed exclusively aluminum cans and ketamine for a good five months.

Q: When is Tuesday going to be released?

A: Whenever, I darn well please. I imagine Summer 2012 realistically, but promises are meant to be broken. Or is that rules?  I am contemplating pairing Wednesday and Thursday into one volume.

Q: You do say “well” a whole lot.

A: Well, I am glad you noticed.

Q: Are you writing anything else?

A: I am in the planning stages for a novel about a fictional baseball league.

Q: Is this book even any good?

A: You can begin gathering data for your subjective opinion by reading the free preview on the Amazon page.

Q: Can I get a free copy of your book?

A: I don’t even get a free copy.

Confidants

I’ve been undisciplined. I am constantly sore. I don’t fit in my bed, even when I am stretched all the way out. Is this real anymore? Is the usual corporeal discussion another one-way monitor?

Snapped back to ether with a gear in neutral, loose typically, arranging myself, I lean far under the windshield trying to gain a fresh perspective on the routes. The thing about this city is there are only so many ways to go. Today, the trees look taller. Some buildings look slantier. I drum my fingers on my forehead and watch the other drivers. I thought I had it figured, but it drains into a different form with each coming day. This is what happens when I finally decide to own a mirror. Something swirls calico as my coffee drips empty. Last nights conversation was buried in the yard when we sat down.

I drive the same way home from work. Last week, I caught a light that I’ve never caught. I stopped washing my hair. I stopped counting the crimes in the paper. Good thoughts have been acting like a glass of water poured over a taut drumhead, bouncing everywhere with a contorted gravity, the results damp and untreading.

The next day I caught the same light. I was the only car to pass through. I did not stop. This is a light I have always missed. It’s a protected left turn smack dab in the center of a three-way intersection with no shade. A strip-malled Dresden. It takes at least seven, sometimes ten minutes for the light to go back to green. I talk into my phone. I read my new address at the mailbox: it reads like a song of retribution.

Notes from a recent dream, half-real, half-other worlds, the ones I seem to be fond of visiting:

I remember seeing the moon leaving us in my rear-view mirror from the backseat, your words get lost as the train rumbles past the car. And like always, I am struck down stupid, a bow, a man, a stuttering imp.

I write a show for her seventeen months ago, and it’s already past.

She kissed me in the mornings and came to me, like a bird, but it’s already past.

I’m fifteen again, and the echoes make me shiver and it’s already past.

Like deja vu during a sweaty doze on a love-seat, like a jaw crack on an already popped jaw, like the jokes told to every lover, like the gull yapping that I squint at through cracked blinds, it’s already past.

Your once swimmers body, your once nimble mind, your once courageous spirit. It’s already past.

When I woke up today, I came to the conclusion that bored sadists have been breaking into my bedroom and pummeling me with soft bats. It explains the soreness, the tender treading of my body through the hours. Plus, I’m a deep sleeper. It would certainly explain a lot.

I hear two voices when I can hardly handle the one. I am skeptical that either have anything to say. I feel like an elephant in the circus balancing on the big ball. I feel there is a new vernacular I am not caught up on – a trudging monster along the plains, I’m riding it’s back, bored with the country and the old reminders of the new world. It needs to slow down.

The next day I caught the light for the third day in a row. I thought about this. I’ve been told to pay attention to things that come in rows of threes, that the world is trying to tell you something. It’s best to keep your antenna up, your senses alive, and your world copasetic regardless of the circumstances of the events that transpired after your accidental birth. If you give in, the world will continue. The earth will pour itself new.

I avoid driving that particular route home now. And I don’t let the pangs carve out my stomach when I see the flowers in the grocery store in the late stages of a Sunday morning. Colors, car models, a sketch pad, a photograph, the old building, a mispronunciation, all echoed in powers greater than three, in certain rows, tingling and dancing near my skin. I’m reminded. And though the world can dissipate, I am always reminded.

I avoid driving that route now.

Working Titles for My Auto-Biography

Blood, Sweat and Diamonds

Confessions of a Mail-Tamperer

Defining an Era, Striving for a Definition: The Story of Scout Cigarettes

Partly Cloudy, With A Chance of Love: My Liaisons with Meteorologists

Born Into Brothels

Memoirs of a Human Trafficker

What God’s Semen Tastes Like

Obsession: How I Stalked Cameron Snyder

Snitch: How the Phillipino Cat-Toy Racketeering Ring Got Busted

Life on the Mendoza Line

The Gravedigger’s Bible

90 Days: When I Believed I Was A Ghost

I’m Only Vomiting Because I Just Took That Shit

Everyone Dies Alone

Scout Cigarettes: How A Brand That Tastes as Good As Burning Down Your Childhood Home Was Built

Gangrene: A Love Story

Armando Gutierrez: A Life in Pictures

When They Really Get to Know You, They Will Run

Scout Cigarettes: The Future, The Past, The Present, Combined.

What Sucks, What Doesn’t Suck – May 2010

The Sports

Eric Byrnes sucks and should die in a field somewhere (and it looks like he will.) Cliff Lee is awesome but his agent sucks. Milton Bradley sucks. Gutierrez sucks at batting. Jason Heyward, I like. Joe Mauers foot sucks. Mike Sweeney sucks at not hugging. Ichiro is a goofy bitch. Wakamatsu makes me want to throw a tire iron at my tv (as in a computer screen.) On that note, MLBTV is great, if you have a great computer. Orlando Magic suck and I now suddenly hate them for no apparent reason, Joey Crawford sucks, David Stern sucks, Mark Cuban is walking on a balance beam between awesome and death, the second round starting before the first is over sounds like a nightmare, the Spurs suck (the penises of the referees, possibly at halftime and during tv timeouts and of course before the game.) Brandon Jennings still seems like he doesn’t suck, Melo sucks, Lebron James entourage/PR machine falls into the I-don’t-really-give-a-shit realm but that kind of means it sucks doesn’t it?

The Arts

MIA sucks so much I want to throw her down a flight of stairs, that stupid hypocrite, naive hack-artist. I got a minute into her new music video for that noise-crap song and turned it off. Terrible. Just fucking terrible beyond words. New Hold Steady sucks. New BSS sucks. New Murder By Death is sweet. New Jurado sounds sweet. New Callahan live record is great. Old Sunny Day Real Estate is good. Das Racist is fantastic (Combination Pizza Hut Taco Bell.) King Lear is great. Seven Samurai is the best. Shakespeare in Love is okay. We Live in Public was interesting. David Sedaris should try fiction. Graham Greene is number one stunna.

Stuff that Matters(ed)

Arizona clearly sucks, Arizona Iced Tea is cool, Adrian Gonzalez is cool, Google sucks, Facebook sucks bags of dicks on a minute by minute basis, Iceland is the knees, buying plane tickets sucks. Not having a ps3 sucks. Working full-time while working on a novel sucks. Netflix is cool.

Current Nation Standings

1.China

2. Russia

3. The United States of America

4. Brazil (Health Minister)

T-5. Iceland

T-5. Arizona

Bottom Five Places as of News

1. Queens

2. Queens

3. Kryzgstan

4. Iceland

5.  Arizona

Individual Standings

1. Mitch McConnell

2.  Jack Nicholson

3. Jan Brewer

4. Julian Inclan

5. Ray Odierno

All standings formulated through precise data collated from winning qoutient over last thirty days, collated and divided by the cosine of winning quotient from lifetime.

New Killington

I was with Brittany in Central Virginia this weekend. At one point, we were given a map by a friendly inn-keeper, to help guide us to a specific destination in the Shenandoah National Park. As I studied the map, I noticed that most places in Virginia are given really lazy or especially strange names. Brittany told me that I could probably not come up with any better names. The following is what I came up with…Brittany came up with a few too.

Battlescar
Killesville
Whiskyburg
Rumandcoke
Mansborough
New Killesville
Fresh Killesville
The Other Place Called Killesville
Superbear
Squirrelington
Killesville IV
East Battlescar
Pony Island
Sunshine City
Blood City
Lazer Run
Killtallica
Burnt Chimney
Sweet Sassy Mollassey
Pony Peninsula
Mickey Rourkington
Killkillington
Hobofield
Saint Sebastian of Gilgamesh
North Bacon
Bumburg
Saint Hoboton

I Wanna Grape With Somebody

This list was compiled over a few bottles of wine and one idea. To be fair, this isn’t for sensitive readers or the faint of heart.

A fancy sticker to anyone who can name every derived movie/band/book/tv show. Also, a million apologies.

Grapeless in Seattle

It Happened One Grape

Life According to Grape

The Curious Rape of Benjamin Button

The Children of The Rape

Braverape

Grapeology

Tomb Raper

Enter the Grape

sex, lies and grapes

Curious Raper

Idle Rapes

Edward Graperhands

Edward Rapehands

The Hitchhikers Guide to Raping

The World According to Rape

Burn After Raping

No Country for Rape Men

There Will Be Rape

… And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Grapes

… And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Rapes

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Rapes

The Greatest Rape Ever Told

…As I Lay Graping

The Neverending Rape

Of Mice & Rape

The Rape House Rules

Buffy The Rapist Slayer

The Rapist-Sitters Club

Reality Rapers

Raping Mrs. Tingle

Rape Intentions

Cruel Intentions (To Rape)

Clarissa Rapes it All

Hey Rapist!

Rape Arnold!

Boy Meets Rape

Charlie And The Rape Factory

Charlotte’s Rape

Next Stop, Rapeland

James & The Giant Rape

To Rape A Mockingbird

While You Were Raping

When Harry Met Rape

I Know What You Raped Last Summer

You’ve Got Raped

Ten Things I Graped About You

Rape It To Beaver

The Things They Raped

Cloudly With A Chance of Rape

Where The Wild Things Rape

Rapey-Dick

Rape of 1,000 Corpses

The Rape of the Mohican’s

The Rape Lmtd.

America’s Next Top Rapist

Rape My House

Jurassic Rape

Wallace & Rape

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Rape

Punch-Drunk Rape

Honey, I Raped The Kids

sex, lies and rape

The Neveraping Story

Rape of Arabia

Rape Over The River Kwai

Citizen Rape

The Color of Rape

Dawn of the Rape

The Sun Also Rapes

Old Rapey

The Iron Rape

Grapevita

Love in The Time of Rape

Love in The Time of Grapes

Divine Secrets of the Rape-Rape Sisterhood

Waterrape

The 40-Year-Old Rapist

I Am Rapist

Before Rape Falls

The Rape Candidate

Gentlemen Prefer Rapes

Dirty Raping

The Breakfast Rape

Tender is the Rape

Stand By Rape

Devendra Rapeheart

Rape It To The Bone

Rape Hard 2: Rape Harder

Night of The Living Rape

Nightmare Before Rape

When A Man Loves A Rape

The Good, The Bad and The Rapist

I, Rapebot

Rapeward Bound

Raping Arizona

Threads on the IMDB “Dogville” board that I read late last night

On occasion, I’ve been to cure my insomnia by reading asinine messages boards on IMDb on movies I like or the talkbacks AiCN for shows I’ve never seen. The amount of work that goes behind some of these posts calms me and brings me to a soothing rest like a child; it is comforting to know that I don’t waste my time arguing on the internet.

Here’s what I read last night, for the batshit movie “Dogville.”

WHERE ARE ALL THE WALLS!?!?!?!

WHERE ARE ALL THE WALLS!?!?!?!

 

 

“Why was Lauren Bacall cast as a townswoman?”

“paralells between grace and britney spears”

“I lost brain cells watching this film *spoilers*”

“An ode to Brechtian/Epic Theatre if I ever saw one”

“[Post Deleted]”

“What’s with the 10 mililons budget?”

“This movie isn’t about the USA. stop being so egocentric”

“What the word pedantic means”

“Old Testament God…New Testament God”

“awww grace, you coulda been my hero”

“This movie scarred me for life”

“what are the alligations?”

“They all deserved it, *spoilers*”

“She sure got raped a lot.”

“I fell asleep 30 minutes before the end, what happened?”

“Romance?”

“I want my money back.”

That is all. Cheers!