Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Syncope, the In-Between
I’m sitting here trying to pronounce the word hh, a time dipthong, the death rattle. I’ve had this cold or flu bug for five days now and since it’s at the weird voice/annoying cough phase, my death rattle is coming out just dandy. Waking up mornings in a loopy Nyquil daze makes browsing the Interstitial Library an infinitely more tangible experience.
Adding to the confluence, or convergence, of all things, the Interstitial Library is comprised of books that have been disappeared, or have undergone deaccession. I think this library includes books repurposed as air-conditioner supports and redistributed on book swapping sites.
Recently someone installing more bookshelves for me suggested that I consider getting rid of a few books. Hah! I’ve told you how I feel about that. Books disintegrate. I own some so old they’re dissolving on the shelf. I just try not to trouble them, to move them too much. I can tell by their bloated bottom halves and peeling spines when they’ve been dropped in the tub, or left in the sun. Someone smart told me, “screw the wheel, in a book you know the world, the thoughts, can have a conversation with someone a thousand years ago. That’s an invention.” It’s true, read from The Pillow Book, and tell me that this lady’s writing, her observations and lists of things hateful, things charming, don’t hold up. How wonderful, really.
I’m coming to realize I fetishize not just my beautiful special books, but the messy ones with too many tears and dirty glue from mark-down stickers, fragile books whose covers hold on with barely more than static electricity. I like their smells and jaundice, and just knowing that the books would taste sour if you held them in your mouth. New books taste more like communion wafers.
One day I’ll decide which book I can’t part with, and have it made, all shallow empty “you’re job is to look pretty and say nothing”, into a handbag. I met Cailtin at an Etsy party, and love her “rebound” purses. To do this, I will have to buy a new book, or request one of her. It would never be possible for me to do this to a book I own, and therefore have a relationship with. That’s how it is for me.
For my treasured darlings, I have dreams for a magical day when I can have (that sounds like “i can has” but i only mean i will need to “have” it built because I suck at that stuff) magical fabulous bookshelves built into my stairs (in my fantasty brownstone, because we’re dreaming now).
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Japanamerica
Over winter break I got a delicious chance to read Japanamerica by Roland Kelts. This was shortly after New York magazine’s look book featured a high school girl who said, “A lot of it is influenced by Japanese street fashion.” Suddenly it was confluence, confluence everywhere. It’s stomping around in Cloverfield. It’s sitting under your desk all cute and cryptic.
Check out my review of Japanamerica: How Japanese Pop Culture Has Invaded the U.S. in The Brooklyn Rail’s Prose Roundup. Pick up a paper, or read it online.
Order your own copy
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Planet
My friend and co-conspirator Matthew Everett has a short piece in the online journal Cafe Irreal. It’s only a three minute read and well worth it. It relates to the planet of The Little Prince and makes a whole world in just four paragraphs.
Matthew is a second year fiction student, which translates into “fascinating genius, more well-read than you.” Sorry ladies, he’s taken.
I know because the first time I heard him read, we all clapped and I said to my seat-neighbor, wow he’s really great. She turned to me and said, yeah and he has an amazing girlfriend. This struck me as rather pointed until the next reader finished, a cute girl, also fantastic, also in my literature class. This time I was informed, yeah she’s in a really great committed relationship.
Class, this is what we call “projection.”
Even if to some I come off as an overenthusiastic bisexual looking for a date, the truth is quite the opposite. We’re all good friends now, even the informer.
You can love Matthew from afar if you catch him reading this Friday at The Lucky Cat in the next installment of Earshot.
I don’t just like Matthew because he plays the accordion to relax (equates the inhale/exhale to yoga or meditation) and dresses like a priest, but because he explained to me that he and his girlfriend prefer movies with “wizards and robots in them.” Then he elaborated in a very intelligent, funny way that I’m no good at reiterating.
A couple Friday nights ago I made a nice home-cooked dinner and we watched the director’s cut of Blade Runner. Ridley Scott and his unicorns, his robots, finally got beyond the primitive part of my brain that had always loved and accepted them. I’ve watched the original a hundred times since it was released, but the director’s cut let you experience and understand what was going on. That’s not to say it was clear, but that you as a viewer were trusted as an intelligent being.
Maybe it was the warm belly and wine, maybe I’ve been reading too much Beckett, but Blade Runner felt less blurry. Everything was right there, clear as a nightmare with a horrifyingly, intentionally slow pace.
And then my whole entire life was filled with meaning. Or actually what happened was, I realized that the two most influential films of my early life were Ridley Scott films: Blade Runner and Legend, and if you branch off with the actors in those two films, you’ll hit my most favorite and/or influential movies, and leap forward to the tv series Battlestar Galactica.
Then I drew a diagram (lower):
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Happy Birthday from the Admiral's Daughter
Happy Birthday, Dad!
Having photography and National Geographic magazines all over the house as a kid gave me a sense that the world was immense, curious, to be explored minutely, and caused me swear I’d work for National Geographic one day. My first major memory of being alone with my dad was in his dark room (aka the bathroom in the foyer), agitating developer, stop and fix, “helping” the way mom might let you stir the brownie batter.
I uploaded some more of his photos (of me ahah) because I’m sentimental.
He’s out taking photos somewhere near or around Avila Beach, California, today. My dad likes to do his thing. When not taking pictures he cooks amazing food, visits wineries, shoots from the hip, and hikes. Back in the day he was a fighter pilot (he’s on wikipedia’s page about the A-6 Intruder) but he’s been known to stop the car to help a turtle out of the road. I’m way too old to keep up with him, though I’m still a fine shot, just like Daddy taught me.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Quick What-Up
I’m a ghost, typing for miles*, with miles to go*.
Just a quick sec then, to prove the existence of God (if god == teh Awesomeness), to help with your grammar, and help with your life.
Here is why people saw God move through Mozart, except in this case it’s the coolest Japanese girl ever, on a (modded? with special tones? watch her feet!) keyboard performing a spectacular rendition of a Kansas song.
In other news, from twitter, the blog Ars Grammatica was born overnight, in which a charming librarian I follow writes about grammar. I like it, and I know a thing or two about nerdy word blogs that don’t get updated for lack of time. If she keeps up this level of discussion, it will be more fabulous than the texty reference “The Blue Book of Grammar.”
What was that last promise? Oh, your life! (mine’s awesome, even with the exhaustion and scarcity hours in a day). Yes, Applying Unix Philosophy to Personal Productivity, via Lifehacker. Except for my ideas always getting psychically stolen and published, I heart this article.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
The Atlantic is Smart
Today I learned (via Kottke) that The Atlantic has dropped its paywall. All of its goodness is now available for us to frolic amongst, squish between our toes, or spread on toast.
Hurray for doing something intelligent.
I have a copy of their 150th anniversary issue and thought it was extremely cool. I spent a lot of time with the short essays and illustrations in the “The Future of the American Idea” feature.
I’m charmed that the editor uses the word “trenchancy” in his announcement. Reminds me of the Geico commercial with James Lipton that always makes me giggle. “I’ve heard they are also quite beneficent and magnanimous.”
Last night I regretfully decided I would not re-subscribe to New York magazine and The New Yorker. I like both of them so much but have too much else to read and can’t keep up. It breaks my heart, print publishing having such a hard time and now I’m part of the problem.
But you! you should subscribe to all of these magazines.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
When Nerds Find Each Other
I love people, especially nerd people who link to nerdy things I write.
Here is an older post by Eric Baković, a phonology professor exploring “miffled” as spoken by Tony Soprano.
More recently, I got a super nice email from Nicholas Whyte, who linked to my old post in a review he wrote about the lovely Kelly Link story The Faery Handbag.
thanks guys! xo
Holiday Blog Tag, Revisted
Before winter break, I was tagged by my friend Rebecca at Writopia Lab, when there was still all sorts of warm holiday spirit in the air. I was asked to do a post answering, “Who are the teachers who have most personally influenced you and how?”
At the time I was finishing a big paper and getting ready for Christmas and New Year travels. Down in Naples, Florida, a lamp post, some rain, and a bundle of cable got in an argument about race, so there was no internet for an eternity. On 01/03/08 I came home to properly celebrate the self-invented Misfits Day (138) and since then, have randomly declared myself to be On Vacation when I wasn’t working on wonderful things.
A few days ago I twittered thinking about an old teacher, snuggled back down into my delicious vacation, and knew that soon I’d get back to posting more than 140 characters at a time.
I have always wanted to thank my fifth grade teacher Ms. Criste for teaching my class grammar up through the eighth grade level. Not at all pushy or competitive, she made everything interesting, and was supportive and generous when it came to whatever interested us. I used to love writing these awful clause and preposition-laden sentences that I would then ask her to diagram on the chalkboard like this. Ms. Criste is undoubtedly the reason I was in advanced classes later, why I felt comfortable learning other “languages” (programming too) and probably the first person who pushed me beyond what would have been acceptable performance.
Before my MFA program there was lots of DIY workshopping, and it was lead by Rebecca Wallace-Segall, who is an amazing critic, teacher, advice-giver, truth-teller and friend. I met her with a few others every week for two years in her Upper West Side apartment. She helped edit some of my grad-school application manuscript, wrote me recommendations, and is currently inspiring me to teach. She also loves bunnies on the for real.
I’m not going to tag anyone, because it could feel like homework, but if anyone wants to keep this going I encourage it. Let me know if you do. xo
