Guy stuff.

The New Stuff

For Rich Villar I remember the new stuff. When it hit the mic raw and risky like homemade sushi      more interested in the flavor      than the presentation. We were too hungry for pretense. I remember the new stuff. When it burst from the heart like a ball of fire through an origami parade on a mission from god –      prophecy overflowing      from the mouths of babes. We were going to change the world but were tempted by it instead. I remember the new stuff. When writing was like breathing and everything was new and new was…

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Pumpkin Seeds: Trickle Down Edition

1. My earliest "political" memory is of rooting for Jimmy Carter over Ronald Reagan in the 1980 Presidential election. My second is of being disappointed that Reagan didn't die when he was shot in 1981. 2. Reaganomics can kiss my ass. Shit trickles downhill, not prosperity. There is no pony buried under the manure; just more manure. 3. On Tuesday, my boss finally got the boot. Thursday's goodbye lunch was one of the most awkward moments I've ever had to contribute $21 to. What do you say to someone that was justifiably fired and knows it? 4. Realized last week…

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Dirty Laundry

If you haven't heard by now, Bill Cosby aired some dirty laundry in full public view a couple of weeks ago, speaking at a gala marking the 50th anniversary of the Brown v. Board of Education desegregation ruling. "Ladies and gentlemen, the lower economic people are not holding up their end in this deal," he declared. "These people are not parenting. They are buying things for kids -- $500 sneakers for what? And won't spend $200 for 'Hooked on Phonics.' . . . I am talking about these people who cry when their son is standing there in an orange…

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Pumpkin Seeds: Entertainment Edition

1. The Day After Tomorrow is a stereotypical NYC slam poem: good intentions; overt but shallow politics; a handful of clever moments. New York City flooded; an environment-hating, Dick Cheney-lookalike VP; and American refugees fleeing across the Mexican border are the main highlights of what is basically a special effects exhibition that borrows liberally from the same formula that birthed Independence Day, minus the semi-coherent script. Overall, a guilty pleasure. Hopefully they'll be able to add a disclaimer to the DVD that "no careers were harmed in the making of this motion picture" as I like Dennis Quaid and am…

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Set This House in Order

Finished Matt Ruff’s Set This House in Order: A Romance of Souls yesterday. Absolutely amazing! He’s one of a handful of writers I want to BE.

A description of the plot would be inadequate because his work is so layered and full of texture that it wouldn’t do it justice. Kind of like explaining procreation in clinical terms. Suffice to say that his ability to convey a multitude of distinctive characters has never been stronger than in this twist on a coming-of-age tale of two people with multiple personality disorders. Each personality, or “soul” as he calls them, is as sharply drawn as any of the major characters in Fool on the Hill or Sewer, Gas & Electric: THE PUBLIC WORKS TRILOGY, and the way he presents life inside their heads is nothing short of brilliant.

That the story takes place in the real world, as opposed to the hyper-realistic fantasy settings of his first two books, is a testament to his versatility and a body blow to the idea that “fantasy” and “literary” are two separate genres.

The lives of Andy Gage and Penny Driver, the protagonists of House, will stick with me for a long time.

Up next: Crawfish Dreams, by Nancy Rawles, another random-while-browsing discovery. One chapter in and I’m liking her style.

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Five things I want for Father's Day: 1. Fool On the Hill 1ST Edition Signed, from Powells.com 2. Riddick: Escape from Butcher Bay, and anything else on my Amazon.com wish list. 3. Gift Card from Midtown Comics. 4. A 2004 Mini Cooper S. 5. El Nopalito Boutique & Restaurant in Isla Mujeres, Mexico. (pictured)

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On Saturday, I lost my glasses on Nitro (the roller coaster at Great Adventure), a fitting epilogue to the tough lesson that was Friday's watershed louder than words show. I had low expectations for the Friday slot to begin with, but twenty-one paid in the audience - the majority of whom were supportive friends/co-workers from outside of the poetry scene and much of the extended Acentos family - was even worse than I'd expected. Glaringly absent were many of the usual suspects from the scene, or as one person put it, those most likely to be on the receiving end…

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