—-

‘Last spring there was a smart, rambling letter from a guy in Kent, Ohio, with a smart, rambling album to match–on Water Bros., by a group that seemed to call itself 15-60-75 the Numbers Band. A month or two later the group played Trax, of all places; sorry, I told the letter-writer on the phone, I’m going on vacation, if you mean it you’ll be back. A month after that there was a handsome, exquisitely stoopid single, on Booji Boy, by an Ohio group called Devo, short for “De-Evolution.” I liked the misogynist Dead Boys’ album, on Sire, more than I wanted to; their bio claimed they’d been unable to commence their homage to Iggy in their native Cleveland, and I wondered why.

‘Gary Storm of the Oil of Dog show on WBFO, Buffalo–“If all you love is money you’ll hate our guts”–gave me a playlist that included records I thought no disc jockey had heard of and records I hadn’t heard of myself. One was an album called From Akron, on Clone, by two different bands, the Bizarros and the Rubber City Rebels. I wrote away for it and loved it, although I didn’t relate to the EP by Tin Huey I got with it. Devo showed up at Max’s with a movie of themselves, a hilarious version of “Satisfaction” that omitted the hook, and David Bowie. They were also from Akron, it appeared. The letter-writer began sending me (blank), a mimeographed “Ragazine of High and Low Art” dedicated to the proposition that “anybody doing anything at all against our gray Midwestern nothingness deserves attention.” The first signing on Blank, Mercury’s new punk label, was rumored to be Pere Ubu, from Cleveland.

‘It was long about then, in early December, that I looked at a map and ascertained that Akron was about 40 miles south of Cleveland and 10 miles west of Kent. Something was obviously going on out there. Musically, I think of Akron-Cleveland as one place. The two Cleveland bands that interest me–Pere Ubu and the Dead Boys–do seem a little more sophisticated conceptually than the ones from Akron, but not enough to support any big theories. Nor does it matter much that Akron is a satellite of Cleveland in such crucial matters as radio, or that people in Akron don’t have easy access to Cleveland’s excellent library, art museum, and (why leave it out?) symphony orchestra. In most ways the cities are quite similar. Both have long borne the impress of a large white industrial working class that now faces the removal of rubber and steel manufacture to the South; both also support many corporate headquarters and a large managerial and professional class. Both suffered major race riots in the ’60s. Both experienced intense counterculture conflicts as well.

‘Ohio is a big place, of course, but it does seem to turn out more rock musicians than most big places. But Pere Ubu, Devo, Tin Huey, the Dead Boys, the Bizarros, and the Rubber City Rebels all respond to a more curious quirk of Cleveland taste–an attraction to weird, arty rock and roll. I’ve been stubborn about the term “punk,” applying it mercilessly to the new New York and English bands because even the artiest of them owned a clear formal debt to avant-punk godfather Lou Reed. “New Wave” struck me as a pretentious evasion. But Akron-Cleveland is so clearly influenced King Crimson as well as by Uncle Lou that it’s broken my will.’ — Robert Christigau, 1977

Rocket from the Tombs
Rubber City Rebels
Dead Boys
Pere Ubu
electric eels
Robert Quine
The Pagans
Devo
Peter Laughner
The Pretenders
The Styrenes
The Cramps
The Bizarros

______________
Formed in Cleveland OH in the summer of 1974, Rocket From The Tombs existed for less than a year, never released a record, played fewer than a dozen shows, and was heard and/or seen by no more than a few hundred people. Rocket From The Tombs blew apart in August 1975. David Thomas and Peter Laughner went on to form Pere Ubu, taking along rock classics such as “Final Solution,” “Life Stinks,” and “30 Seconds Over Tokyo.” Cheetah Chrome and John Madansky formed the Dead Boys, taking “Sonic Reducer,” “Ain’t It Fun,” “Down In Flames,” and several others. Through word of mouth and a frenzied trafficking in bootlegs, Rocket From The Tombs acquired an international status out of all proportion to its brief existence.’ — ubuprojex

Rocket from the Tombs ’30 Seconds Over Tokyo’

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‘Akron, OH’s Rubber City Rebels were yet another hot, terrific punk-era rock & roll band circa 1977 that suffered from the total lack of independent labels back then. Lacking a strong connection to New York, they never got a Sire, Warner Brothers or Mercury deal like a few other great Ohio contemporaries (Dead Boys, Devo, and Pere Ubu, respectively) until they moved to L.A. and scored a deal with Capitol so much later, in 1980, when this sound was no longer au courant. Their sound was nails-tough garage punk, part New York Dolls, part Dead Boys, and most of all part 1973 Stooges.’ — Sons of the Dolls

Rubber City Rebels ‘Somebody’s Gonna Get Their (Head Kicked In)’

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‘From the depths of industrial Cleveland the Dead Boys found infamy on the New York scene around the club CBGB’s. Led by their irrepressible Iggy aping lead singer Stiv Bators, the Dead Boys merged the UK punk look with a tough US street punk sound and nihilistic lyrics at odds with the artier sounds of Television and Patti Smith and gave high octane performances to boot. However, like The Ramones, they suffered from the Punk tag they lived up to and achieved poor record sales both from their debut Young Loud & Snotty and their second album, the poppier more commercial, We Have Cum For Your Children. The Dead Boys split up in 1980. Some lay the roots of US hardcore at The Dead Boys door.’ — punk77.co.uk

Dead Boys ‘Sonic Reducer’

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‘Although New York and London are generally credited with spawning what came to be known as punk rock, Cleveland band Pere Ubu has a fairly good claim to planting many of its seeds in the early ’70s. In its first incarnation, Ubu combined disorienting, often dissonant, rock and urban blues in a stunningly original and outlandish mix, but never lost an urgent, joyous party atmosphere. Lead singer David Thomas’ plebeian warble, the band’s most noticeable sonic feature, colors all of Ubu’s proceedings in a bizarre light; casual listeners might, as a result, overlook the powerful, polished musicianship. One of the most innovative American musical forces, Pere Ubu is to Devo what Arnold Schoenberg was to Irving Berlin.’ — ubuprojex

Pere Ubu ‘Caligari’s Mirror’

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‘The electric eels played only five public shows, but during their brief existence they earned a reputation locally for being angry, confrontational, and violent. They were notorious for starting fights with audiences which drew police attention; members were also abusive to each other off-stage. Their style was a dischordant, noisy amalgam of hard garage rock and free jazz that was generally considered to be very obnoxious. Stiv Bators, the singer of The Dead Boys was particularly influenced by the vocal styling and stage presence of Dave “E” McManus. The electric eels featured unconventional instrumentation initially, with no drummer nor anyone who was technically competent on any musical instruments. Their rare performances did feature at various times, sheet metal hit with sledgehammers, anvils, a power lawnmower and fist fights. This led to the description of their act as “art terrorism”.’ — Scat Records

electric eels ‘Cold Meat’

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‘To those in the know, Akron, Ohio’s Robert Quine is one of the most original and influential guitarists of the past 25 years. A founding member of the groundbreaking punk rock ensemble, Richard Hell & the Voidoids, Quine has gone on to collaborate with a diverse array of musicians during his career, including: Lou Reed, Brian Eno, John Zorn, Matthew Sweet, Tom Waits, Lloyd Cole, They Might Be Giants, and Marianne Faithfull. Quine’s guitar speaks with a distinctive and versatile voice that immediately identifies him. Shrieks of feedback, throbbing drones, fractured chords, and keening lead lines are all part of Quine’s sonic vocabulary – one that often leaves the listener feeling assaulted, yet enlightened.’ — RobertQuine.com

Robert Quine (w/Lou Reed) ‘Waves of Fear’ (excerpt)

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‘While Pere Ubu and other Ohio cousins were offering only cerebral dissonance, the 1977 punk explosion visited Cleveland in the form of The Pagans. Picking up where the departed (for NYC) Dead Boys left off, the Pagans were younger, louder and, if not as snotty, better in other ways. Led by raspy-voiced Mike Hudson, this slam-dunk garage quartet produced a small stack of classic singles: “Not Now No Way,” “Street Where Nobody Lives” and “What’s This Shit Called Love” (later covered by the Meatmen) are all down and dirty, glorious three-chord excursions into the filth and the fury. The Pagans broke up in late ’79 without ever issuing an album. The band’s first longplayer (informally known as The Pink Album was in large part the result of a 1983 reunion gig (only Hudson and guitarist Tommy Gunn are holdovers from the old days), pressed as a limited-edition (500 copies) live LP.’ — Trouser Press

Pagans ‘What’s This Shit Called Love’

_______________
‘Devo formed in 1973 consisting of members from Kent and Akron, Ohio. Devo first gained fame in 1976 when the short film The Truth About De-Evolution by Chuck Statler won a prize at the Ann Arbor Film Festival. Devo caught the attention of David Bowie and Iggy Pop, who championed the band and enabled Devo to secure a recording contract with Warner Bros. Records. After Bowie backed out due to previous commitments, their first album, Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo! was produced by Brian Eno. Their music and stage show mingle kitsch science fiction themes, deadpan surrealist humor, and mordantly satirical social commentary. Their often discordant pop songs feature unusual synthetic instrumentation and time signatures that have proven influential on subsequent popular music, particularly New Wave, industrial and alternative rock artists.’ — clubdevo.com

Devo ‘Too Much Paranoia’/’Praying Hands’

______________
‘Peter Laughner was an important, and still overlooked, figure in the birth of American punk and new wave. As a singer, songwriter, and performer in numerous Cleveland bands, he was probably the single biggest catalyst in the birth of Cleveland’s alternative rock scene in the mid-’70s. Roughly speaking, Laughner’s work melded the street-life aesthetic of Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground with folk, roots-rock, art-rock, and even singer-songwriter influences. His legacy is difficult for the masses to appreciate, however, and not just because his premature death of acute pancreatitis, brought on by drug and alcohol use, in June 1977, while still in his mid-20s meant that very little recorded material emerged during his lifetime. It’s all because his talents were too disparate to be easily pigeonholed and, until recently, repackaged for the CD era, despite a wealth of unreleased material.’ — allmusic

Peter Laughner ‘Life Stinks’

________________
‘Chryssie Hynde is the daughter of a part-time secretary and a Yellow Pages manager. She graduated from Firestone High School in Akron, Ohio. While attending Kent State University’s Art School for three years, she joined a band called Sat. Sun. Mat. (which included Mark Mothersbaugh from Devo). Hynde also developed an interest in the UK music
magazine NME. She eventually saved enough money to move from Ohio to London in 1973. With her art background, Hynde landed a job in an architectural firm but left after eight months. It was then that she met rock journalist Nick Kent (with whom she became involved) and landed a writing position at NME. However, this proved not to last and Hynde later found herself working at Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood’s then-little-known clothing store, SEX. Eventually, she tried to convince a very young Sid Vicious (who used to hang around at SEX) to marry her, just in order for her to get a work permit. Hynde then attempted to start a band in France before her return to Cleveland in 1975.’ — Wikipedia

The Pretenders ‘I Can’t Control Myself’

_________________
‘The Styrenes are precursors to many of the precursors of the bands that you are listening to now. They have their origins in the burgeoning 70’s Cleveland scene that spawned such classic bands as Pere Ubu & Dead Boys. With a style best described as jazzy agro-pop, the Styrenes were a bit “off,” a bit too weird, even by CLE standards, kind of like Syd Barret backed by Pavement. The Styrenes experimented with almost every song. The result is indescribable, chaotic, often catchy, and always on-edge. Adventurous and exciting- punk/agro-jazz w/ a tinge of hostility. The Styrenes proved to be a crucial missing link between Sixties punk grunge and Eighties avant-rock. A retro-salute is long overdue to the Styrenes’ rarefied smashup of ragged-ass psychedelia, proto-No Wave guitar noise, corkscrew jazz & pummeling freak rock.’ — David Fricke

The Styrenes ‘Drano In Your Veins’

_________________
‘The Cramps formed in Akron, Ohio in 1976 and were active until the death of lead singer Lux Interior in 2009. Lux took his stage name from a car ad, and Ivy claimed to have received hers in a dream (she was first Poison Ivy Rorschach, taking her last name from that of the inventor of the Rorschach test). The Cramps’ sound was heavily influenced by early rockabilly, rhythm and blues, and rock and roll like Link Wray and Hasil Adkins, 1960s surf music acts such as The Ventures and Dick Dale, 1960s garage rock artists like The Standells, The Gants, The Trashmen, The Green Fuz and The Sonics, as well as the post-glam/early punk scene from which they emerged. They also were influenced to a degree by the Ramones and Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, who was an influence for their style of theatrical horror-blues. In turn, The Cramps have influenced countless subsequent bands in the garage, punk and rockabilly revival subgenres, and helped create the psychobilly genre.’ — The Los Angeles Times

The Cramps ‘Human Fly’/’Teenage Werewolf’

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‘From the streets of the Akron rubber factories to center stage at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, The Bizarros have proven that they can, in fact, fight their way uptown. Fueling the Akron music scene in the late 1970s with songs like “I, Bizarro” and “Laser Boys”, the quintet meshed raw punk energy with new wave. Lyrics range from more lighthearted pop culture references – comic book villains and white screen movies – to more introspective and philosophical verses. Their music first materialized in the form of an album in 1976 on Gorilla Records. Nicholis went on to create the independent label, Clone Records, through which the next two releases were distributed. Four subsequent releases followed, the last in 1981, and the Bizarros took a 23-year hiatus from studio.’ — thebizarros.com

The Bizarros ‘White Screen Movies’
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*

p.s. Hey. I’m starting this on late Sunday afternoon during a work break because I found out over the weekend that I need to be at the Pompidou to work on ‘TEENAGE HALLUCINATION’ at 8:30 Monday morning. Rather than just cancel Monday’s p.s., I’m going to get to as many of the weekend’s comments as I can today and early Monday, and then I’ll get to the ones that arrive later when I return ‘full force’ on Tuesday. Also, I’m going to have be kind of quick-ish even now because today is pretty busy for me as well. Sorry about all this. ** Rewritedept, Hey. Cheers on the shared hardcore memories and love. I don’t know the Gorillaz dub album, no. It’s good? Really? Okay, I’ll have a listen then. Thanks! ** Randomwater, Hey there! Your weekend doesn’t sound bad at all. Poetry, making out, pals … what else is there? My weekend was totally lacking in razzle dazzle, or at least anything that words could render entertaining. Random sample: ‘No, move that painting a little to the left. Now, just a smidgen back to the right. A smidgen more. Okay, now up a centimeter. Good.’ If only there was some video game company out there that was wild and financially reckless enough to throw millions of dollars at a ‘Wild Boys’ game. Or if only games didn’t cost so much to make that there could be little indie video game companies out there doing cool things. Oh, you’ve already read Lautreamont. I should’ve figured. Hm, I’ll see if I can think of another suggestion. You do look mesmerized in that photo. Is it even possible to jack off without being mesmerized? I guess so. Oh, is it possible to read your poetry somewhere? I’d like to. ** David Ehrenstein, Hi, David. Hope your birthday was joyous in some fashion. Oh, circuit parties … I think I went with some friends to one in NYC, but there was such a specter of death about it to me that I just got depressed and unnerved and left very soon. ** Syreearmwellion, CM Punk! He is pretty cool. I haven’t kept up with the WWE over here like I try to do when I’m living in LA, but … I don’t know, there’s something very charming in that overblown charade even I can’t finger it. ** Pilgarlic, Hi! I’ll go look for your email. I’m even more scattered than usual. Yeah, the tons of coins from the French ceiling story got a lot of play here, as you can imagine, with half of the population of France now fishing around in their ceilings. Awesome Steely Dan track from my favorite SD LP, ‘Katy Lied’! ** Ultra VGA, Hey. You don’t seem like you’re so different from me, really. I’ve even got a serious case of procrastination-itis, even though I imagine it doesn’t seem that way. But you should see the things I would have done, ha ha! You earn a living as a traitor to language … how so? If I’m being nosey, ignore. I did read Drew Daniels’ ‘queer sound’ piece in The Wire, and I totally agree with you. I actually was going to try to scan it and put it on my blog, but, guess what, my aforementioned procrastination foiled that plan. I guess I still could. Thanks for filling me in. Keep it up. It’s cool having you here. **
Sypha, Well, same with me and my rave period. I adored it from the sidelines. Yeah, as DE pointed out, that Christopher Bram book is more about historical guys, and it only goes up as recently as Edmund White and his older than my generation. I didn’t know those Ballard books were even out of print. Well, that’s terrific news. Believe it or not, I love reading you talk about prog and detail your interest in its mythologies. It’s cool. ** Alan, Hey. Okay, mm, I’m not entirely sure if the difference in terms of resolution that Mike points out between my stuff and the stuff of younger writers exists or not. The kind of resolution I’m talking about is not any kind of gotcha or ‘Aha!’ or anything like that. I think maybe when most writers make a novel which is a mystery that can be solved or which deliberately goes against readers’ expectations of a resolution, the way to either solve it or to discover that it’s not solvable is through the story and characters in which/whom clues are littered and hidden, and the resolution or lack thereof is essentially if not entirely narrative-based. In, say, ‘TMS’, that is not the case. The novel is filled with secret tunnels constructed around individuated themes and resemblances and so on that are created by the novel’s form and structure, and the narrative’s clues are indications of where the secret tunnels lie and where they intersect and lead and so on. If one wanted to take the novel apart by identifying and locating each secret tunnel and then create a map of the novel’s architecture, one could enter the secret tunnel system and find one’s way into the deepest part of the novel where the tunnels end. There is something there, and traversing the tunnels and discovering it will increase one’s understanding of the novel, but it’s not a twist or ‘the truth’ or anything like that. It is an ideal vantage point that causes the novel to coalesce in the truest way. Now, I’m not sure that it would be possible for a reader to do that even if he or she wanted to, but I designed the novel so that such investigation is as possible to undertake as I could. Does that help clear things up at all? ** Nipper Dog, Hi! Oh, that’s okay. Other than the p.s., I am the correspondent from hell, so I understand. I’m glad you liked the Christopher Knowles stuff. You doing good? Tell me what’s going on with you, if you feel like it. ** Jeff, Hi, Jeff. That job sounds really good. Congrats and fingers crossed if you need any. You’re a Fad Gadget fan, awesome. Strange how few and far between we seem to be these days, although Im hoping the post will draw out any closeted FG fans. I think, if I’m remembering correctly, that I had a hard time with Gottfried Benn too. I don’t think I got very far with him. ** A.r., Hi, A. No wonder they’re aflurry. Such a great seeming show. I’m in a bit of pain that I’ll likely miss it. Thanks about Monday. I’ll give Ossian and Stephen a big howdy-do from you. Love, me. ** Bernard Welt, Thanks a lot for the link, B. I bookmarked it for a peaceful moment. That scene sounds way amazing, for sure. ** Killer Luka, Hey. Oh, yeah, I have the deepest respect for your interest in and employment of beauty in your work. I was just joshing. I’m glad you’re blowing faces off. I want that Kiddiepunk book! Gosh, you communicated wonderfully. Your tiredness lost the battle. ** JoeM, Hi, Joe. Oh, it’s a cartoon TV thing. Hm. What a strange idea since the original is actually kind of great in its own way. Well, I only hope he wouldn’t bother to do that unless he has some twist up his sleeve. I don’t know you if ever saw Ralph Bakshi’s brilliant remake of the ‘Mighty Mouse’ cartoon series back in the, hm, 70s, early 80s? It was a model of remake goodness. I’ve heard that story about the girl bringing her fetus to a show as the inspiration for ‘Bodies’ so many times in so many contexts from the mid-70s until now that I think it might be the real deal. ** Kyler, Hi, K. You know Christopher Bram? I think I only met him briefly a few times over the years, but I think we were on a gay fiction panel together once. You good? ** Chris Goode, Oh, thanks, Chris! I’m glad you thought it turned out okay, and that’s huge thanks to you. I tried to do a Knowles Day a few years ago, and there was so little online that I abandoned the plan, but it seems that someone or someones who are into him have been stocking up the web more recently. Very best of luck with the memory cramming. Is it a thing where you memorize it word for word, or do you memorize more like talking points and then rely on a bit of improv in the performance? Or both? ** Steevee, Thanks a lot for the link! That’s great of you! Thanks much! ** Misanthrope, Hey. Footing it in LA is pretty unrealistic man, kind of surrealistic even. Maybe they can find a sack of money somewhere and be able to afford taking taxis? I get a neck pain vis-à-vis sleeping thing too sometimes. Could be the pillows, yeah. Or it could be my organic clothes! ** Dungan, Hi, Sean. Cool about the email. I’ll go get it. It’s a cavern? How trippy! They have lighting in there, right? I mean, it could look unbelievable. Yes, photos of the show are a must. I, of course, like the idea of you being interviewed onstage with mics at the opening. You’re all kind of LA suave/casual and you give off this relaxed vibe, and people will love you, man. ** William Keckler, Mr. Keckler! It’s a great honor, sir. Thank you so much. And yes, yes re: CK. Everyone, William Keckler does many amazing things including one of my favorite blogs/sites in the whole world, the sublime Joe Brainard’s Pajamas (The Sequel), which you simply must visit whether you have before or haven’t. Again, a great pleasure to have you here. My very, very best to you. ** Postitbreakup, Thank you, Josh. Hope your weekend ruled. ** Jax, Hey, pal. Awesome thoughts, history, take, and memories re: the old punk days, thank you. The LA punk scene wasn’t wildly arty, though. A bit, at times, but not compared to the NYC scene, for instance, which, well, I suppose was probably pretty queer friendly too in theory, even if I can’t think of too many queer early NYC punk band members, come to think of it. The pianist in Patti Smith’s band is the only one to immediately spring to mind. Strange. Oh, wait, The Mumps, Lance Loud’s and Kristian Hoffman’s punk band, of course. I think maybe the Bush Tetras were queer. It took me a long time to hear disco without having an accompanying mental image of a room packed with mustaches, but, yeah, even that has a nice melancholy about it now. Rave, however, sigh. I do seriously miss those days. Oh, gosh, on your query. Hunh. ‘Smoking the peace pipe’, ha ha? How strict are those censors? ‘Doing the Jethro Tull?’ Uh, hm, I hope others are of more help. I’ll keep thinking. ** _Black_Acrylic, Enticing about the ‘YnY’ futurisms. Yes, news when appropriate, thanks, Ben. ** Chris Dankland, Hi, Chris. Cool, glad it effected you. That sound/vid with the jeering is really intense. It was from an event at the dawn of Wilson and Knowles’ collaboration, and the audience thought Wilson was forcing Knowles to perform the text, not aware that Knowles had written it, and basically exploiting the poor lad. I guess that’s probably obvious just from listening. Very nice Burns quote. Hope all’s well with you. ** Statictick, Hey. Ugliness rather than filthiness, yeah, okay, that makes sense. My stuff still gets called hard-boiled sometimes too. If they only knew, right? Interesting about ‘Minus’. And sorry to be so random today. It’s now 7 am on Monday, and I’m trying to get a last few comments addressed before I split, and I am quite far from fully awake yet. ** Chris Cochrane, Hey. Wonderful! Yeah, send me he flight info when you can. Air France, good, that’s the easy terminal vis-à-vis getting the train back to Paris. ** Okay. I’ll continue tomorrow morning if need be. In the meantime, do your best to enjoy my Ohioan 70
s punk transitioning into post-punk oriented gig, if you will. See you in a few.

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Welcome back to DC’s Writers Workshop. This is the thirteenth in a series of days on the blog where writers who are part of the blog’s community present work-in-progress in search of the opinions, responses, advice, and critiques of both readers who don’t normally post comments here and local inhabitants of this place. I ask everyone to please read these works with the same attention you give the normal brand of posts here and respond in some way in the comments section below. Obviously, the closer your attention and the more you’re able and willing to say to the writer the better. But any kind of related comment is welcome, even a simple sentence or two indicating you read the piece of writing and felt something or other about it would be helpful. The only guideline I’m going to give out regarding comments is that any response, whether lengthy or brief, praise filled or critical or anywhere inbetween, should be presented in a spirit of helping the writer in question. I’ll be responding to the work too in the Comments section towards the end of the weekend. So, I guess all of that is probably clear. Giving support to the artists of different kinds who read and post on the blog has always been a very important aspect of this project, and this workshop series represents an opportunity to make that aspect more formal and explicit. This weekend’s workshop features five very short stories by the writer and d.l. dayeyhoule. He asks for any thoughts, support, or criticism you can give him. I thank him greatly for entrusting his work to us, and I thank you all in advance for your kind participation. — D.C.

*

Serrano

—-In a forgotten stone cathedral off Michigan Avenue, Felicia attended a photography lecture sponsored by the Museum of Contemporary Art. She was looking for some insight into “art” or “life” – something to take her outside herself for the evening. What she got instead were beautiful, oversized color pictures of bodily fluids, corpses, and old, naked Hungarian women smoking crooked cigarettes. That the lecture was staged in a house of worship was supposed to lend a modicum of “gravity” or “reverence” to the sensational subject matter. Instead, the setting merely added insult to everything the usual Sunday morning faithful accepted as sacred and holy. But, Felicia figured, that was the point all along.

Crybaby

—-On the verge of his twelfth birthday, puberty was already turning Billy into something he wasn’t, but as his eyes bulged all heavy and clear in the bathroom mirror, Billy was turning into something he vowed he’d never be again: a crybaby.

The Dappled Oaks Assisted Living Retirement Community

—-Rose Dennison was a crow. And like a crow her eyes could bully. A small, severe woman – stooped over, rail thin, all hard angles – it was Rose who’d spread the rumor that Earl Kramer poisoned his late wife, Bethany, then blew the insurance money on the slots before he fell down the basement stairs and his children brought him here: The Dappled Oaks Assisted Living Retirement Community. But what Rose and her tar pit eyes were now proposing even her henpecked septuagenarian boyfriend Walter Kern could not abide. She wanted Earl dead.
—-When Walter refused to go along with her plan, she cawed. Rose thrust her head up and cawed.

The Dead Uncles

They were arranged, the kid’s dead uncles were, from left to right by order of death rather than birth order.
—-The first, a medium shot of a ten-year old George straddling a brown- and white-spotted horse, was the only color print. Squinting under a wide-brimmed hat, George leaned forward, bracing himself with his hands on either side of the horse’s thickly muscled neck. His eyes focused on something off the left side of the frame. A slight curl in one corner of his mouth could have been a smile, though it easily could have been a wince from the bright afternoon sunshine. George lay down on some railroad tracks when he was thirteen.
—-Next to him was a standard holiday portrait of Earl posed in front of a Christmas tree. He stared straight at the lens, his unlined child’s face unmoved by the camera’s attention. A striped turtleneck crept up his neck and seemed to push out his ears, both of which poked through the sides of an awful bowl haircut. At fourteen Earl hanged himself from the rafters of the rickety barn Grandma Clara soon thereafter burned to the ground.
—-Uncle Billy was the kid’s favorite photo of the four, not least because the then-twelve-year-old most resembled the kid at that age. Billy’s was a headshot, tight, lots of negative space, with only half his face crowding the grainy right side of the frame. His one visible eye was partially closed, caught in quarter-blink. The slur of freckles across his nose would disappear by the time Billy was sixteen and he threw himself off the Portage Dam two towns over.
—-Jack, though first-born, was the last uncle to die. In the only wide shot of the four, Jack sat hugging his knees to his chest on the front stoop of the uncles’ tiny boyhood home. It was late autumn judging by the skeletal maple tree dominating the foreground. The kid always felt a chill standing before these family ghosts, and Jack’s figure, a seeming afterthought in his photograph, made it worse. Jack put a gun in his mouth a week before his eighteenth birthday.
—-The four-by-six-inch dead uncles lined a darkened, seldom-used hallway leading from the laundry room to the kid’s father’s locked den. Each print was mounted between two thin rectangles of glass then hung from thin-gauged wire on its own clear thumbtack. This precarious presentation always struck the kid as angry, as if his father – who created the tableau – was just waiting for these memories to shatter, was asking for an excuse to duct tape the garage shut and then start the car.

***

—-Why the father never followed in the footsteps of his dead brothers the kid didn’t know; the father was tight-lipped about so many things. If once it was to spare Grandma Clara from yet another loss, she was long gone now and wouldn’t know the difference. Maybe growing up with all that death made the father appreciate life that much more. Maybe he lacked the internal resolve needed to overwhelm one’s will to live – that primordial battle’s a real struggle. Or maybe the father simply loved the kid too much to do that to him.

The Eighteenth Arrondissement
Or
The Novel I Would Write If I Were a More Talented and Serious Writer

—-The novel I would write if I were a more talented and serious writer would be 325 or 340 or 415 pages long, i.e., substantial but still tight, long enough to be considered seriously yet not so long to be considered “bloated” or “in need of an editor.” It would make a beefy, but not unwieldy, slab of a trade paperback (no hardcover edition; trade paperback only – like American Psycho). The spare, elegant cover design would feature a photograph with lots of negative space or a “naïve” line drawing with lots of negative space, both tastefully paired with either a sans serif typeface or some “naïve” hand-drawn lettering:

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p.s. Hey. So, I’ve pretty much laid out how I hope the workshop will work up above. I’ll just add that while the closer your attention is and the more detailed your responses are to daveyhoule’s stories, the better, of course, even a simple acknowledgment that you read the work and/or any thoughts you can share at all, however brief, would obviously be great and would mean a lot to the author. Thanks a lot for your attentiveness and participation. Like I said above, I’ll add my thoughts in the comments arena towards the end of the weekend. ** Misanthrope, Well, at least with news on the internet, you make choices, and you have be active and do things, and it’s a lot harder to sequester yourself with a single slant ‘cos the internet encourages you to move from place to place, keep moving, and you can check different perspectives so easily, even at the same time, unlike with cable TV news where you’re encouraged to be almost totally passive, pick one of the few channels, and let it flow into you. On American TV news, there’s barely any distinction between serious and celebrity news anymore. Gingrich loses his shit in a debate, and almost all you hear about the debate is how he lost his shit filtered through infinite spin about whether that’s good or bad, and the only real difference between Gingrich losing his shit and a Kardashian losing her shit is that you’re told that the former was a more substantive wack attack because he’s running for President, but it’s not more substantive, it’s just a guy in politics losing his shit. I don’t know. If you’re not in America all the time right now, America seems insane, almost lock, stock, and barrel. ** Kyler, Hey. I enjoyed the story a lot. It’s very sharp, and that sharpness has a lot going on in it, and yet it’s all very clear, and yet the poetry inside isn’t weeded out by the sharpness. Kudos, man. ** Ratty St. John, Hey! Ooh, nice sentence. That first one, or, wait, second one, i.e. ‘ … subjecting the norm to flakes of my freak’. That’s super good. So, you do mostly write fiction or you think of it that way. It’s especially hard to make the distinction when you’ve only heard someone’s work read aloud like I have with yours. Have you published your writing anywhere? I don’t need to tell you, I’m sure, to be wary of people who have issues with poetic passages in others’ work. They should be so gifted. There are people who are scared of the poetic or think that it surely must be some kind of mistake by the writer because, well, their imaginations are either losers or fascists, ha ha. If they only knew. ** Empty Frame, Hey. I’m cool, just *cue broken record* too busy. That’s going to be my lot for the next month at least. Michael S. does start crying in interviews sometimes. He’s very into it. He really cares about literature. I have a cuckoo clock in my LA pad. Well, it’s my pal/roommate Joel’s. From his grandma, and it doesn’t work, but I’m hoping some of those links on the post might help him figure out how to begin to fix it, which is easy for me to say since I wouldn’t have to hear it go off hourly. Cool that you scored that very well placed hotel. The ticketed events … You can buy tickets now. I’m going to add the ‘buy’ links when I post the final schedule. I don’t think you need to worry about tickets yet, at least for ‘Them’. Let me find out the score on that stuff once I start working full-time at the Pompidou late next week. I love Steven Millhauser. He’s definitely one of my favorite American writers. His recent short story book was on my 2011 ‘best of’ list. I think he’s wonderful. A great, unique writer. Porn film, interesting. You don’t know what genre? Hm, very intriguing. Sneak more info to me as you learn it if you can. ** David Ehrenstein, ‘Celine and Julie’ are on youtube! That is a new development, right? Happy Birthday to Federico! ** Casey McKinney, Hey, Casey, old buddy! You awesome? Thanks about the cuckoo clock post. It had some of my sweat and blood in it. Mousetrap Day: You mean, like, the game ‘Mousetrap’? The one where you build that kind of Rube Goldberg-esque plastic toy labyrinth with the rolling ball and all that? I love that game. Is that what you mean? I will totally try to do a Day on that. Or do you mean on mousetraps that, like, trap mice? That could be edgy. Man, it’s awfully nice to see you! ** Kiddiepunk, M-ster! Those new animal spirit things of yours fucking rock, man! Ooh, pre-production! So, having Bene out of the house slaving over dolls has had a good side, it seems? Want to see you. I’ll call you today. Also, nachos must be eaten by me soon while in the company of illustrious guests like you, don’t you think? ** Sypha, Hi, James. Oh, right, Bieber’s a serious Christian, right? And a Republican, anti-abortion, anti-gay marriage, the whole right wing shebang but without the insane lunatic fringe part, right? I think I read that. ** Alan, Hey. Yeah, I do know about that book, but I didn’t know it was out until you presented that link. Bill Mohr, the author, was in the LA poetry scene, and he was one of the few older, old school poets who liked and hung out with us young rebel types. He’s been working on that book for at least a decade. I think he interviewed me for it ages ago. I’m actually quite excited to read that book. A lot of us have been hoping for a serious book about the history of LA poetry for forever, and I’m pretty sure Bill has done a great job at realizing that kind of book. Thank you a lot! ** A.r., Hi, A. The AV Festival, cool. I’ll look that up. It sounds really fantastic, actually! March 17th. I’ll probably be preoccupied dismantling the ‘Teenage Hallucination’ festival then, but I’m going to see if there’s any way I can go to that. Cool thanks, my man. Great weekend of heavily gilded etc. to you. ** Todd (once IF), Hey, Todd! Wow, really great to see you! Awesome news there on your end all the way around! That’s really, really happy making. Yeah, I saw an email from you in my box this morning before I was caffeined enough to see straight much less read, and I’ll get to it and write to you about all that this weekend for sure. Cool sounding agent there. Man, yeah, lovely to see you, my friend, and more soon from me, and, yeah, just great all around, Todd! ** MANCY, Oh, man, thank you for the links and info ‘cos I did decide that, yeah, I want to do a French BM post of some sort, and that’ll be a super huge help. I’ll try to do it justice. I’ll hope that my semi-virginal approach will lead to something interesting. Yeah, I really, really appreciate that! Awesome news about the zine and the other RA-destined thing. Yes, please, alert me when it’s up, and if by any chance you want to use the blog to help let people know about the zine, I would be very happy to have a post here doing just that. Just say the word and we can sort it out, if that’s of any interest. ** Allesfliesst, I’m going to try with the Pompidou. I’m not sure if I’ll lay out the craziness that could result from such a booking first thing, though. I can tell just from the big hassle surrounding the dead animal component in ‘Them’ going on right now that it’s probably best to get the Pompidou excited without introducing the possibility of reservations first. Well, please do participate in the writers workshop, obviously. If you want more pressure, give me a hint about how to apply it respectfully. I love the jellos. I ‘liked’ them, and I like them, and I want to eat them, even that murky one. Murk is good when it wiggles. ** Wolf, You did, you did! I can’t wait to hang out too. And the falafel thing is already RSVPed. Or it is now. Gosh, okay, I’ll see what I can coax out of Stephen in terms of a musical portrayal of his brain in your private regard. He’s in a good mood right now, so heads up. Skiing! You skiing! You know, why the hell not? I am impressed. That’s the God’s truth. I was just reading yesterday that there’s going to be this new amusement park built here in France near Paris called Napoleonland. Yes, it’s true. And I mention this because the ride they’re hyping the most is some thing where you’ll fake ski down some mountain through piles of bodies of dead soldiers representing the soldiers killed by Napoleon and his military dudes at some battle that I think took place on the land where the amusement park is going to be built. Can you believe that shit? I am, duh, excited. ** Pisycaca, Hi, Montse! Oh, I see, that makes sense. It’s lame of me, but I always forget about the War and the unbelievable toll that took on Spanish culture. Anyway, Val del Omar is obviously really special, so I imagine he’ll be a lot better known within a few years. Thank you so much again for yesterday and for all it wrought. Great weekend to you with much love attached. ** Statictick, Okay, cool, about the questions, no problem. I’m just blanking on what Minus is, but I guess I’ll find out. Cool that you Matthew are going to meet, and, yes, Jack is a pip among pips, that Jack. And cool about your approach to the workshop, of course. ** Rewritedept, Oh, shit, that’s the name of a strip club there? Busted? No, I don’t know what the zipline is. The name suggests certain properties, but I’ll google it. I haven’t been to Vegas in, god, 7 years maybe? Whoa. I think Siegfried & Roy were still in one piece. I think Cirque de Soleil was still a cool, underground thing to go see. That long ago. I think your clothes thing sounds totally legit and non-rank. Nice busy day you had there, or, is it today? It’s hard to tell with the time difference sometimes. Enjoy or enjoyed as the case may be. Excellent weekend to you as well. ** Frank Jaffe, Hey Frank! 400 is a real crowd crowd, and, yeah, I still get stage fright, or at least whenever I can see the audience from the podium or whatever. When they’re blacked out, I’m usually okay. Yeah, I got the email and awesome! #2 looks possibly even greater than #1, to judge by the samples. One thing: When is the zine coming out? In other words, for when should I schedule the post? Tell me, and it will be yours. Thank you! I did Ecstacy a fair bit, but not since the mid-90s, I don’t think. If I’ve done MDMA, I didn’t know it. For me, Ecstacy was great for being in stimulating environments and having fun more than, say, for hanging out and watch TV or something. Actually, I had an amazing time being on Ecstacy at Disneyland, but a friend of mine who was also with me and was on Ecstacy had a bad time and got paranoid and stuff. Dancing is a good way to spend it, obviously. Just be sure to stay hydrated. Yury has done MDMA a bunch of times, and I think he would caution you not to take too much of it. He overdid it a couple of times and had really bad experiences. Anyway, that’s the extent of my knowledge/advice for now, I guess. Very cool weekend, F-ster! ** STOVALLSTOVALL, Hey. You’re back where you came from, safe and sound. Well, I guess it’s not where you came from, it’s where you … usually don’t leave? I’m pushing it with the thinking things out angle here. Sorry. Cool about the classes except for that gsi. It has been raining here too. I know there must be some way to walk around holding an umbrella over your head that doesn’t feel like you’re just missing out on seeing stuff. You probably don’t use umbrellas, right? I don’t know why I think that. I see you taking the hood approach or just letting the sky happen to you unabated. Maybe I have this weird idea in my head that people in the Bay Area don’t use umbrellas, I have no idea why. Or why I’m even talking about that, ha ha. Fine weekend on your end, I sincerely hope. ** Right. Please let your kind attention, concentration, and thoughts/ comments of all sorts rain down on our pal daveyhoule this weekend, okay? Thank you very much. And I’ll see you in the comments area once Sunday is on its last legs, at least here in Paris.