Language Bom

Dear future grandchildren,
I’m writing this blog for you. Someday all blogs will be engraved on the bottoms of wide flat stones and you’ll slide your finger across a surfaceless touchpad and the stone will turn and you’ll read these words and think about the life of the man who begot you.
Hi!
I put on my semi-rumpled [...]

Lingua Citadel

I work for a small nonprofit theater company; a theater festival in the Hague (Den Haag), Netherlands, inexplicably invited members of our company to a festival they are putting on but all the senior members of my small theater company got lockjaw syndrome and painful-butt disease so by the luck of the draw I got [...]

David Crosby fan fiction

—Why was the American Office filmed in Berlin?
—It wasn’t.
—I read it was.
—Where?
—In Sergio Aragones’s autobiography, Plato Fails
—You are constantly joking around, it makes it fun to be around you
—Ya, thanks for saying so
—Except I heard you made a rape joke yesterday.
—I did. I regret it. I already apologized to Tom.
—Why’d you do it?
—I was drunk. [...]

Pummelmilk

ODIN: Will you strike a man’s tooth?
DESIREE: No sir! I will not. [She resumes typing.]
ODIN: How will you know the shine of the quivering swine?? Right????
DESIREE: [Takes out her earbuds] What? Oh… the shivering swine? Hey, can we talk after work? I’m super super busy right now. [Smiles sweetly]
ODIN: Will a gank-rag rise into a [...]

Cy Preclops

—I haven’t had a drink since Saturday.
—It’s Wednesday.
—I know
—You sound like an alcoholic.
—I know. It still feels good not to drink. I’m going to keep going with it.
—Good! That’s good.
—Every time I make a proclamation like this I immediately undermine myself, but I sort of want to become totally straight-edge: no booze, no drugs, no [...]

Violent and original dreams

Will Self on JG Ballard in Granta 107:
Ballard, the most outlandish of fictional imaginers, had always dug out his wellspring by the hearth, and remained the perfect exemplar of Magritte’s dictum: a bourgeois in his life, a revolutionary in his dreams.
Another maxim, expressing a similar sentiment, is attributed to Flaubert. From his entry on [...]

Eyeball Soup

There is a bowl of chili here.
Steam rises from its beans and meatflecks. It billows politely around a dollop of cold sour cream.
As you gaze into the stew, my face—the face of a young, obese Steven Spielberg, “replete” with undirty baseball cap and full Jewish hair fanning out from beneath the cap’s circumference—appears to you [...]

Amber Tamblyn

a preponderance of shit to do has thrown me into a “fake” existential crisis where I am looking at Amber Tamblyn’s Wikipedia page instead doing the things I gotta do. Via Ed, holy crap, how did I not know about Amber Tamblyn?? She’s blogging at the Poetry Foundation:
You’re the Beyonce of Susan B. Anthonys.  None [...]

“An Education” advance screening in San Francisco, 10/7, feat. Nick Hornby IN PERSON!

LI’L TIFFANY: Thirty dollars? Fuck that.
PROVOST GARY: Li’l Tiffany, you spend that much on Vitamin Water and Zen Party Mix every week. And it’s a fundraiser for the Believer magazine, which you’re always reading at Patronio’s house. But you never buy it! And you love Nick Hornby’s “sensibility.” And look at this effing still from [...]

heartbroken fatsuit

CHARLES CHUBINKSI: You look fantastic in that sweater.
LORI TREVANIAN: I know.
[They are both hungover and in love. Their relationship is broken.]
LORI: I’m starving.
CC: I know.
[She's better than he is. More attractive, more "vital life force." He's a neurotic dump.]
LORI: I love you.
CHARLES: Nah, you don’t. I mean, you won’t. After we’ve been broken up for [...]