‘The more computers infiltrate our lives, the more fucked and torn apart people become. Where dicks like Whitman went off and lived surrounded with the trees, now we disappear into web browsers. And while that’s starting to feel more and more natural, Twitter isn’t a lake, and ordering food off of Seamless doesn’t require any human interaction beyond opening the front door and grabbing a bag of food. Online, you can almost distract yourself enough with what you aren’t actually doing that you forget time is passing.

‘I imagine there’s some kind of new genre rapidly forming around the idea of the electronic self. Now it’s often not as much where someone is going or what they become, but more so the significance of what gets mentioned, collaged together, that makes the body of a work stand out: how it is said and in what order; what details recur and which do not.

‘I’m thinking about books like Sheila Heti’s How Should A Person Be?, Tao Lin’s Taipei, Sam Pink’s Person, David Foster Wallace’s The Pale King; and perhaps earlier, the writing and journals of Andy Warhol, Jean Rhys, and Alix Cleo Roubaud. In general these are works that, for lack of a better term, get called The New Sincerity, if often because what transpires is a product of the adaptation of a daily life in which almost nothing happens but the happening itself. These are books concerning the amorphously hellish feeling of being pressed continuously at nothing without ever knowing why besides the fact that you’re alive.

‘Though I don’t know enough about Amina Cain’s life to say how much of what appears in her writing is based on reality, the stories in her second collection, Creature, seem to share something of the sublime tone mentioned above. Nothing really happens in these stories: the narrators (whose voices frequently bleed together without being claimed as the same person) go about mostly quiet daily lives—working at a library, often interested in reading rather than interaction with other humans, constrained to awkward, quasi-philosophical conversation when they must, and above all continuously considering the silent nature of their surroundings.

‘Cain’s remarkable ability to render thoughts and observations simply and precisely carries the reader. Each scene accrues a rising sense of tension as it continues, without any sort of narrative twist or jut, and no reliance on internet memes or name brands for content. There’s not a sense of obsession with the self as much as there is a sense of the self unharbored, left living in a strangely ageless world somewhere between Emily Dickinson and David Lynch. At the same time, the book casually comments on its own creation, as if it is being generated right beneath the reader’s feet, like someone stranded in a haunted video game based on their own life: “Even though I don’t write stories I create them in my actions,” begins one story. “I create a feeling I don’t believe in and then I act on that feeling.”

‘That feeling of wanting something, waiting for something, floods through Creature, and in the waiting, there are hundreds of little corridors, and doors. Where many other creations would get trapped in their own ideas of pleasure, this one creepily shines.’ — Blake Butler

 

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Further

Amina Cain Site
Witchcraft and Brattiness: An Interview with Amina Cain
THE SPACE OF WRITING: A CONVERSATION WITH AMINA CAIN
Amina Cain @ goodreads
‘A Trace of That Darker History’
Eternal Present
Notes on Craft: Amina Cain
An Artist of the Floating World
Indelicacy: An extraordinary feminist fable about women and art
Patty Yumi Cottrell by Amina Cain
Book: I GO TO SOME HOLLOW by AMINA CAIN
“UMBRELLAS” BY AMINA CAIN
Amina Cain on the Value of Art That Disorients You
Pattern and Forecast (Vol. 2)
5×5: Brian Evenson, by Amina Cain
Audio:’ I Will Force This’ by Amina Cain
LITERARY HAUNTINGS AND NAMELESS CITIES
Amina Cain recommends 6 books
Amina Cain on Authenticity and The Maids
Book: ‘PARROT 13 Tramps Everywhere’ by Amina Cain
Buy ‘Creature’ here

 

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Extras

A Room With A View: Kate Zambreno & Amina Cain

Interview with Amina Cain at &Now Festival 2011

WRECKAGE OF REASON: Amina Cain

 

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Conversation: Amina Cain & Renee Gladman

 

Renee Gladman I want to begin by asking you about slowness. Very general, I know. But it’s something I think about when I read your narratives: the duration of a moment of perception. Or perhaps, the sense has more to do with a certain silence around perception, which I’m reading as speed, but which might have more to do with space. Where do words like “slowness” or “silence” land when you think about the nature of experience or subjectivity?

Amina Cain I do often see “duration” within perception as a kind of spaciousness (something I am always trying to find, both in my stories and in my life), but, interestingly, I just finished an essay on my relationship to writing and it’s called Slowness. In it, I talk about how drawn I am to films (like Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman) and books (like Clarice Lispector’s The Apple in the Dark) that seem to move slowly, or that when they do build up to something with some kind of energy, do so without the promise of “real” drama, not unlike what it is to prepare to meditate. In the Soto Zen tradition, which is the only one I really know, you go through a fairly momentous ceremony to simply stare at a blank wall, to arrive at something like spaciousness or slowness. On that blank wall is projected everything (after all, you can see your mind there) and also nothing. I like that relationship between drama and quiet, between moving towards something and then just sitting down upon arrival to experience what it’s like to be there. I like it in life and in writing.

I wrote another essay that thinks about the similarities between fiction and landscape painting (as well as character and landscape) because I’ve been realizing more and more how important image and setting are to me as a writer—in a way, even more so than language, and certainly more than plot or story. The question I am now asking myself, that I think I have always asked myself, perhaps without knowing it at first, is: can a story be like a painting, or a video or film, or can it allow for lapses into the space of one of these things for a little while? What happens when a narrative allows us to spend time with an image longer than we are “supposed” to, when it is just as arresting as the story being told?

But, in that second essay, I also talk a bit about Ana Patova Crosses a Bridge, about how the narrator “softens” (and what I mean by this word is that some kind of boundary breaks down) with not only the “architectured” landscape, but also with sentences, and with the physical act of writing. It feels to me as though everything in the book is passing through the narrator’s body or that the narrator’s body passes through everything. I wonder if these impressions mean anything in terms of the way you yourself see the book, if you thought at all about porousness or exchange.

RG Sometimes it’s difficult to separate a narrator from language or the idea of the body and text. I often think they are inextricable, but lately I think it’s more that the narrator (of most of my fictions) and the body (which people ask me about a lot) are sublimated figures. They belong to language; they are problems of language. The only reason there is a body is because there is a text, in this case a “bridge,” to make its form possible. I like when people talk about membranes in regard to writing, because it allows you to visualize a layer that potentially sits on top of language. Because, you see, I think the language of the book is passing through something as well, and it’s not the narrator’s body, rather some abstraction of itself. Language has a dream of itself and the book passes through the dream. The first part of the sentence forms the membrane and the second part of the sentence moves through it. In my mind, it looks like ribboning, but is colorless. Someone writes about language as a skin, which perhaps corresponds with your thoughts on porosity. I am interested in the idea that the skin is an organ, because skin is flat like landscape, like language. If we allow language to be skin in our imaginings then we can move immediately to all the processes happening below that level—so many systems at work with the skin (language) acting as protection, as boundary and container. I think about things entering that membrane and moving through the body beneath and try to imagine what that looks like, sounds like at the reading level. I want the language you see, particularly in Ana Patova, to be alive and in process.

Earlier, in talking about meditation, you mentioned going through “a fairly momentous ceremony to simply stare at a blank wall,” as a way to describe your relationship to narrative. This is really exciting to me, a series of elaborate acts to prepare for one prolonged gesture. (Though I have a problem with the word “one” there. I’m not sure it’s countable.) How does this translate in writing? You talked about the wall, but I’m interested in the ceremony. Where does it take place? Is it outside of the frame of the narrative?

AC I like so much of what you say here, especially about language—what belongs to it (not possessively); what’s just underneath, moving; its dream of itself; the second part of a sentence moving through the first. I often want to ignore language, but of course I owe it everything because I don’t ignore it when I write and, thought about in the ways you describe, how could I? Here (and in Ana Patova) it’s as alive as a character (is character alive?), but it’s not character. It doesn’t want or need to be alive like that. It makes me think of language as a stage, the thing we all show up to see. A character may walk across it, but that is not the important part. Not that I think the two are pitted against each other, or ranked. It’s more about possibility (and I think there’s possibility everywhere in fiction). And the language in Ana Patova is always in process, yes. If a house has burned down in the first part of a sentence it is not necessarily so in the second part, and yet it’s not as if the first part doesn’t still exist. Nothing is reversed. This is something I love about the book. Sometimes an event that seems final happens again. The ribboning, colorless, makes sense to me. I also think of the sentence here as a kind of animal, drawn lightly. Maybe it’s my image-driven mind, but I sometimes felt in reading Ana Patova as if I were seeing drawings that flickered in and out of visibility.

The ceremony takes place in the narrative. Maybe the narrative is the ceremony, there to usher in a setting or moment that can then be stayed with for a while. Sometimes I feel as if I am a selfish writer (though I also think it might be okay), and that I write stories to get to something else, not the actual story. I don’t think that I “use” narrative or story in a negative sense, just that it’s a medium that allows me to get to these places, these moments. I don’t think I could get to them through poetry, for instance (or even through another kind of story with its other concerns). I’ll probably fumble a bit in expressing this, because maybe I won’t quite get to it, but it’s interesting to me looking here at how we both talk about our books, our writing. I have already brought into the conversation words like “character,” “setting,” and “story,” these classic elements of fiction. You and I both do and don’t seem to come to narrative in very different ways, and these differences in how writers arrive at and to their texts is endlessly fascinating to me.

RG I’m drawn to this idea of language as a stage that we all show up to see. First of all, it’s exciting to think there are objects in the field of language, that there are actually things to see, because often I find we leave the object world behind when we speak or write. Language is so abstract and goes on about its business of deducing, connecting, naming, expressing, etc. with nothing tangibly in play. You know what I mean? Language uses our memory of objects and our desire for meaning to world-build. So, if I’m inside your metaphor, and I’ve arrived at this stage upon which I will see language, I’m giddy, because I think I’m looking at nothing. Nothing is happening in my eyes. Though, somewhere else (perhaps through some other kind of seeing) shapes emerge. Signals go off and meaning parades through our brains. How fantastic is that? When I teach poetry, I like to ask my students where does the poem exist? Is it that thing on the page? Is it the words lingering in our brain, some feeling in the body? Where is it? The nothing that happens when one writes “Danielle is sitting in that chair” is incredibly compelling to me. And I think this is something you’ve mastered beautifully in your work—a surface that acts as if it’s devoid of objects, so that it’s less what the words say than how they behave. In “Attached to a Self” you write, “Sometimes there is a great emptiness, like shaking a box nothing is inside of; sometimes the box becomes warm.” I get caught up in the mystery; it’s a sort of displacement of consequence. Things take on surprising qualities in your work. And even though it’s the language that relays these effects, I find it’s more what is absent, what is pulled into an invisible but no-less-felt tautness that I’m waiting to see.

I wonder if you can talk about recent evolutions in your thinking about narrative—what you want it to do, what it actually does—and how the narratives you create correspond to those you experience in the world.

AC That’s really nice—waiting to see what won’t show up alongside of what does, and then, through that absence, being able to see a shape. A seeing without eyes. This might be true for many writers, but the way I’m able to tell if a text is finished is when I’ve cleared out enough space. If it’s too cluttered, certain relationships won’t be able to exist or make themselves known. It’s like a table with too many things on it. In a situation like that even the table is unable to be seen. Something about abstraction is hard for me, at least within a text, partly because it seems there is very little space in it. My feeling is that it gathers too many things around itself without clearing any of it out. Maybe that’s why I am always trying to use this thing that can be so abstract—language—to get to something else.

I don’t know if my thinking about narrative has changed necessarily, but definitely my understanding of what I do through narrative has evolved and become more visible. Mostly I feel I operate in the dark (while actually in the act of writing) and that my subconscious mind knows much more than the conscious one. But I do know that I want narrative to reveal, to let certain things sit next to each other; to catch abjectness and transcendence; and closeness and distance. In many ways, the narratives I write reflect what my experience has been in the world, or what I have been drawn toward, or repelled from, or what I find funny or sad. And, self-indulgently perhaps, as a writer I tend to plunk myself down in a narrative or setting or situation I want to spend time in, either because there’s something in it I want to imagine my way through or recreate. In my life, place has always been really important. This might sound bratty, but there are certain towns or cities that can crush me even if I’m just passing through for a couple of days, and these are not necessarily unliked towns/cities I’m talking about. Los Angeles is a place many people dislike (of course there are people who love it too), and yet for me it is almost therapeutic to be here. In the same way, place (and I might extend this to atmosphere, which brings in psychic as well as physical qualities) often drives my narratives. I take a long time to set things next to each other in a way that will hopefully make them alive and reveal something about their relationships to each other and create the space of the narrative.

What about you? Earlier you talked about language (and sentences) in a way that turned my head around and I really appreciated that. How does narrative fit in? What is the relationship between language and narrative?

And before I forget, I want to set this passage from Ana Patova here, because I want it to be in the space of our conversation and because it struck me so much when I read it:

“I wrote sentences about space so that I could stand up and walk down that hill. I wrote them, because the hill was too steep to descend gracefully with your body upright and steady. Spaces moaned when you crossed them; they didn’t know how to hold you.”

It makes me think more about what language can do, in a text and otherwise.

RG In Ana Patova the city becomes a three-dimensional embodiment of writing, a world propelled by sentences. Sentences, thus, become both propellants and consequences of the events of Ravicka. Ana Patova writes so that she can act in the world. The writing is the site of that action. What happens in between, where she’s actually walking down the hill, is unmappable. I don’t believe that there is any language without narrative, but there seems to be (in Ravicka and in Providence, RI) plenty of language without events. In Ana Patova, I’m trying to follow the line of thinking, letting it pass through these sentence-corridors that are bridges, and I’m doing this because something is being produced through this particular shape. A crossing reverberates, something being crossed. One consciousness crossing another. One’s books crossing others’ books. One’s walking with another’s walking. One attempt to see the crisis with every other attempt, and not only by the one person but also every other person in the city. I think of narrative as the story of our thinking and of language as that material.

So, I’m in the process of writing a long statement on my poetics called The Eleven Calamities. This will be a series of eleven mini-essays on my eleven favorite words or compounds that organize my thinking about writing. The first six on that list are world-building, novel space, sentence, architecture, line, and time. What would be yours?

AC That sounds like a book I can’t wait to read, Renee. I think I would start with landscape, lightly, story-like, relationship.

 

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Book

Amina Cain Creature
Dorothy, a publishing project

‘Amina Cain’s Creature brings together short fictions set in the space between action and reflection, edging at times toward the quiet and contemplative, at other times toward the grotesque or unsettling. Like the women in Jane Bowles’s work, Cain’s narrators seem always slightly displaced in the midst of their own experiences, carefully observing the effects of themselves on their surroundings and of their surroundings on themselves. Other literary precursors might include Raymond Carver and John Cage, some unlikely concoction of the two, with Carver’s lucid prose and instinct for the potency of small gestures and Cage’s ability to return the modern world to elementary principles. These stories offer not just a unique voice but a unique narrative space, a distinct and dramatic rendering of being-in-the-world.’ — D,aPP

Excerpt
from BOMB

There is a tone I want, but I don’t know how to get it. A TONE IN MUSIC. I go to concerts (there are always concerts in the summer), trying to find something I can copy down or emulate. When I was a child I avoided music, but I have a very close connection to it now. I own a farm, but it’s been a long time since I have DONE ANY WORK ON IT. I’m rich from my farm; I can do other things.

In the fields the crops grow almost too tall, their leaves reaching into the gentle air. This makes you question everything. What is air? What is gentle? Also, what is a child?

It is horrible to lose someone and yet that has happened to me. Now I’m alone, but I’m not unhappy. It is hot and beautiful enough on my farm that I feel okay about being rejected. I have tried to make other people reject me so I can relive my trauma in the way a person is supposed to live it. So far it hasn’t happened, but JUST TODAY I SAW SOMEONE, and I think I can make this person do it. When I see this person I feel sick and I think this means I am on the right track.

This is something I concern myself with only in a “side pocket” sort of way. My priorities are with my compositions. I have thought about writing a farming manual, but I will have to think even more before I attempt it. I do write about my farm, but in a different way. I allow myself to inhabit my FARM poetically.

In the evenings I’m calm; I am hardly ever calm at any other moment. I wear what you think I would—long, flowing pants and a button down shirt made out of jean material. My hair is either pulled back in a bun or pulled back with barrettes so that my hair hangs onto my shoulders. I used to be a dancer—you can see this in my posture and in the way I carry myself. I’m graceful. I know this and I’m not afraid to admit it for it is the great triumph of my life. Also, this helps me with music. Now that I no longer dance I WRITE MUSIC I think other dancers would enjoy. My compositions are complex and moody. They’re not pretty, but they allow the listener a deeper relationship to my farm. At the end of the summer I will hold my own concert in this place.

My talents extend in every direction: farmer, possible writer of a farming manual, composer, dancer, possible musician. Now you understand why there is no time for me to actually farm.

Dressed in the way I’ve told you, I stroll about the fields and often right off of them. The palm trees have their own relationship to air and it is exquisite to see. One can only imagine how their fronds take it in and change because of its presence. The movement is very slow. This slowness is good for me to witness. One part of a frond is pointing up, even while the rest of the points move to the left, or stay entirely still.

Then there is the river, moving in its own slow way. To watch the movement of the river sometimes means lying down next to it to GET CLOSE to the miniature swells and waves.

In the evenings when I am not strolling about I am in my house, cradled by the land. I sit down at my desk and work. I can’t tell you what I look like when I’m working because I don’t know. MY DESK IS HUGE AND BEAUTIFUL, very expensive, how could I not want to work there. The wood is unfinished, but in a particular kind of way. When it’s touched it’s smooth.

The compositions come easily, simply because I am cradled and I am able to express this through music. I am able to picture the dancers on the farm and compose songs that are right and true for them to dance to. I am waiting for the right time, for when I CAN HAVE A RECITAL HERE. I will have to work for months before this can happen, because I haven’t yet matured into my craft. I haven’t matured into any of them. But my relationship to everything I do is serious. You can’t imagine how close I get to my work.

This person, the one with whom I would like to relive my rejection, is always in town. This person must live here now or at least be on a very long vacation. Sitting for hours in the café, not working at all. Or sometimes sitting in the rocking chair on the porch of the post office. But also, riding a bike or running along a path. This person is more relaxed than I am, but not healthier. No one in this area is healthier than me.

Imagine trying to compose something at the beginning of summer. Tonight I am an insect, a book, a VERY LARGE PLANT. Do you know what that’s like? It means I am light, pensive, and then finally bigger than life. The one time I engaged in a sitting meditation my hands grew. They were huge. This was only a sensation. Here in this room I have enough love for everyone. Even the men (and the one woman) who work on my farm. There is something I want to get through to you, but I don’t know how to do it. There is something I want to communicate about MY LIFE.

I have not always lived on this farm. I grew up in a city where I was taken everywhere I wanted to go. As a young woman I went to see aberrant things and this upset my family. I went to dance classes, where I was introduced to music. On cold autumn mornings the rain beat upon the windows and I exulted in my position in the class. I loved to dance. I even loved to wait on the floor until it was my turn to move across it.

Sometimes it is sensual just to be here, taking in the land, letting it wash over me. In certain moments I am a wild boar. I barely NEED ANOTHER.

At the first concert of the summer season I lie in the grass. Those closer to the stage sit in seats, and though I can afford to sit with them I prefer it here. I have always loved grass. The musicians are far away on the stage, but there are things about them that stand out all the same. They wear dark SKIRTS OR PANTS AND LIGHT shirts. They hold their instruments close to their bodies, or, if the instrument is on the ground they draw near it, hovering just above. I haven’t yet put myself in the right proximity to an instrument. I have held a fiddle too far from my body.

The music is soft, then loud. Too loud. I look up at the sky. I had no idea it would be such a noisy concert and it hurts my ears. If I picture dancers now they are completely in crisis. They are violent criminals wearing costumes dyed a deep red. To picture this makes me nervous, as if I will be attacked before I get back to the farm. And of course there is nothing for me to copy down. When I hold a recital the music will be soft, so soft it will be hard to hear it. My talent lies in gentleness, even if I am not a gentle person.

Walking through the streets when the concert is over, the warm air pressing delicately against the night, I feel my future. The person I want to reject me is standing next to a palm.

“Hello,” I call gently.

“What?” the person answers. The shadow of the PALM IS DEEP.

“It’s so warm. And beautiful.”

“It’s always warm here.”

“That’s true. My farm is a bit farther down the road. Would you like to see it?”

This person takes so long to answer I’m afraid nothing will be said. But, finally, “I don’t visit the farms of strangers.”

I breathe out an audible sigh, like I have been taught to do in yoga, but I don’t think this person understands anything like that. This person is gone before I know what’s happened, leaving me completely alone. What I appreciate most about compositions, dance, and the air is what I appreciate about people. To go out and meet them you must go incredibly far.

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** John Newton, Hi. No, no interest in doing a ‘Sluts’ sequel. When I start a new novel, I need to feel like I’m starting from scratch and that everything about the novel is a challenge, otherwise I don’t feel interested enough to try, so I never return to my old things. The escort and slave posts are kind of an informal sequel to ‘The Sluts’ in a way, I think. But I’m happy you liked the novel, thank you. I wasn’t consciously on Tribe.net, no. I’ve heard of it, but that’s all. My social media involvement is super limited. I was on Friendster, and I switched to Facebook, and that’s it. I look at some sites to make some of the posts, but only as an anon lurker. That site sounds wild obviously. I hope your weekend rocked. ** Dominik, Hey, hey, D!!! ChooseMe was spooky, I’m with you on that. My weekend wasn’t a ton of fun. That hacking assault continued hour after hour the whole weekend and is still ongoing this morning. I get email notifications about the attempts every thirty seconds or so, so my email box is full of hundreds of those emails and ever more of them. It’s very stressful, and that kind of messed my head up and the weekend a consequence. But I had a great book club Zoom meeting with my US writer friends, and I finished a commissioned writing piece and sent it in, so it was all right under the circumstances. Did you get a lot of SCAB time in over your weekend? And/or exciting new outside work? Ha ha, I was pretty taken with the image of his face popping like a balloon, I will admit. Also the accidental beauty caused by the writer thinking ‘great’ is spelled ‘grate’. Love like a peaceful email box (sorry, but my love has that hacker on its brain), G. ** David Ehrenstein, Hi. Yeah, thanks, I can’t believe that hacker is still going at it. Sorry about the agent. But an agent who picks and chooses based on saleability is a toughie. As I’ve said, I’m bad about agenting. I’ve only had two in my whole life, and the first one retired, and I’m not happy with my current one. As my French remains very piss poor, I don’t know how the book would translate. If you mean would people here possibly be into it, sure, unless it’s ‘too American specific’, I don’t see why not. ** James Champagne, You’re you! No, I don’t like ‘NoE’ at all, but god knows shit happens. Well, you writing experimental fiction is certainly a highly intriguing idea, so I’ll be quite curious to read that. ** Bill, Hi. Yeah, the hacking fucker(s) hasn’t let up for a second. Wtf. Ha ha, I actual held off taking the extraterrestrial escort profile for about a week after I spotted it hoping some interstellar comments might show up, but no, sadly. ** Conrad, Hey! Ah, I see. Quitting sugar sounds smart. I barely eat sugar too ‘cos I’m in a vegan phase, but once in a while … I’ll look for Sébastien Dégardin. My ultra-favorite patisserie right now is La Pâtisserie du Meurice par Cédric Grolet, 6 Rue de Castiglione, 75001. This. Their pastries are pretty much edible artworks. Cool, let’s figure out a gallery day. I’ll see what’s up and especially tempting. ** The Black Prince, Hi! I’m starting to wonder if the hacker will ever eff off. I never do the lists with the slave posts, only with the escort posts where the potential customers want to know what they’ll get for their money. Oh, ‘Torn from Something’ is actually a piece from my novel ‘I Wished’, but it’s been revised some since the version you saw. I’m happy you liked it! Great about your new story and, especially, your excitement about it! Commissions can have a nice after-effect when you’re really lucky. Great! Nothing better in the world than writing something you’re extremely into. Thank you, I’m hanging in here, and I hope your week starts lustrously. Love, me. ** wolf, Whoop! (as opposed to ‘whoops!’). Got me about the hacking thing. All I know is it’s a not uncommon type — Brute Force. It might be doing its thing on hundreds of other WordPress blogs at the same time. I have no idea. I keep ‘praying’ that it gets exhausted and gives up, but do bots get exhausted? Yeah, they were slaves, guys whose fantasies aren’t influenced-to-driven by their monetary needs/wants, or not overtly. Nice to hear Ian MacKaye’s bellowing in my head while reading that quote. I think I need to pound some Fugazi into my brain to quash hacker stress. Ha ha, I did make a note about ‘geodesic asshole’, you know me well. How did your Monday differentiate itself from your Sunday? ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi. Ha ha, Yeah, I remember there’ve been certain times when I was visiting London where I couldn’t even access my own blog due to UK censorship. Did you get the hoped for news about the transfer today, I ask plaintively? Yay, about the board of trustees add! That sounds really impressive. Board of trustees, wow. ** Brian O’Connell, It is indeed March, Brian, and there ain’t nothing we can do about it. The hacker’s motivation is, and will likely remain, a total mystery. All WordPress can do is tell you (me) to get maximum security and wait it out, if I’m lucky, apparently. Nice weekend. What’s the mini-project? Is it interesting to you? Hope your week doesn’t get heavy. Other than getting the new film’s budget sorted and a consequent big Zoom powwow with the producers to work out the fundraising specifics, my week is pretty open. Hopefully work on writing stuff and get out and about while I still can. (Another threat of a possible lockdown is the air yet again.) Have a Monday of historic proportions if possible. ** Okay. I recently read this earlier book by the excellent writer Amina Cain and really liked it, so I thought I’d train my blog’s spotlight on it. Pretty simple. See you tomorrow.

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LoganWasThere, 21
I’m a super small and skinny twink (4’11 and 80lbs when I’m lucky). My biggest fantasy is for a big (6’0+) man to throw me on a bed, pin my hands and lay full weight on top of me, not caring one bit if I can breathe or if he breaks my bones or not. And he exposes my neck. He starts licking it slowly, teasing me, making me tremble. And then I feel his huge cock shredding my tiny hole, inch by inch, destroying every tissue in its path. Then when I least expect it, he starts sucking hard on my neck, leaving lots and lots of hickeys. Then, he starts biting. I try to move under him, but his heavy weight keeps me in place, and he chews and fucks, and there’s blood, on me, on him, all over, and then … I have no way of knowing. The only thing I ask is that he is emotionally available.

Comments

demonicmusclegod – Feb 23, 2021
He looked scared at first, but after a few minutes it was cool again.

 

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wreckedtwinkslut, 19
I’m a depressed stoner and couch poateto who smokes tons of weed.

I’ll do whatever you want.

Make clear what you want, I’m not here to be a shrink.

Fuck up my appearance and make me ugly too.

Fuck lockdown!

Comments

wreckedtwinkslut (Owner) – Feb 9, 2021
Your silence is excruciating.

wreckedtwinkslut (Owner) – Feb 2, 2021
I’m open to any kind of compromise.

wreckedtwinkslut (Owner) – Feb 2, 2021
My limits are blood and death.

 

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RodeoCalf, 23
I am asexual and I love being a calf in a rodeo. I love getting lassoed and hogtied by cowboys and country boys. I also love getting gagged with bandanas and muzzles and bit gags. If you are a cowboy and want to calf rope me or ask if I want to be in a rodeo, let me know. If you are two team ropers, I can do that too!

Comments

RodeoCalf (Owner) – Feb 11, 2021
To be clearer I am an unnaturally born calf in a human body who identifies as a calf and is one when I can and when possible. I think it’s time to finally find an owner who can help me achieve my goals of becoming completely a calf. Ideally would want to be owned 24/7 as a calf so I can put all my focus in on that new chapter of me. It does sound kind of intimidating but I know it’s something I would not regret in the long term.

 

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chlorodrughypnometeen, 18
“Hello and thank you for ordering from Snuff Bunnies Inc. I am Henry, your personal Snuff Bunny and here are your free set of pliers. Please feel free to use them to torture and snuff me whichever way you like. I am yours for the rest of my life, which as you know must end within the next 24 hours. There are no limits to the amount and kinds of suffering you may inflict on me and I am eager to take them all for you. I am authorised to tell you that it takes an incredible amount of discipline not rage to take a pair of pliers to a boy’s body and leave nothing untouched. Please capitalize a random letter in your message so I know you read and know what I am talking about.”

Comments

AttackOfTheDeadMen – Feb 13, 2021
no real emo woUld wear a metallica t-shirt you lying fuckface

Kiesling – Feb 10, 2021
You’ll note his profile is in quotes. Where I come from, putting something in quotes denotes an affectless ironic tone. Sorry, irOnic tone.

Hallenbarry3 – Feb 10, 2021
I’m Hallen Barry from North Dakota am looking for serious relationship with young boy that can lead to mArriage.

itsHector – Feb 8, 2021
He’s completely serIous.

 

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WhyEvenTry, 22
Recently left a 3 year abusive alcoholic during Thanksgiving, been roaming PDX/SEATAC homeless camps and couch surfing.
Long story short, I’m the reason for his drinking so I left him and all my belongings behind and told him he doesn’t have a reason anymore.
I have stable weekly income, looking for a SAFE/STABLE/NO DRAMA household to be a Service Body.
I am drug free/nicotine free/booze free.
Need LTR because of the intensity of my horniness.
I was choked out 3 times by the abusive ex, the last time was intentional the first two times were accidental. The intentional situation i passed out and came to with a loaded shotgun up my ass. I think he woulda pulled the trigger but his mother called.
I would be willing to repeat that. I think about it constantly.
Recovering from Hip/Thumb fractures.

Comments

Starintrovert – Feb 2, 2021
sorry for the rude side trip WhyEvenTry i would love to strangle you unconscious while my forearm is elbow deep in your whore ass you look like the sexy kind of trash i love to abuse high on my to-do list is to choke you out repeatedly and you wake up each time with a different arm pumping into your hole.

parvenu – Feb 2, 2021
have u ever choked out a total newbie faggot and then fisted him? i have. did he bleed? did u feel any mercy? mine was this skinny 18 year old and i loved how confused he looked when he woke up.

Starintrovert – Feb 2, 2021
i second doing LittleCumSewer i love it when he passes out and goes limp so i can shove my arm up his ass while he is unconscious and by the time he comes to some random stranger is fisting my load into his guts and i’m long gone.

TheWhiteRabbit – Feb 1, 2021
Guys, if you can’t get with this boy and if you’re ever in Toronto hit up LittleCumSewer That faggot is a total whore and loves getting strangled. I have used a rope, a belt, my hands and even a noose on that fuckboy and strangled his skinny neck so hard I left bruises.

 

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lostcause, 24
I’m a lost cause but somebody recced me this app so I decided to try it.
My name is Buddy I’m a sissy slave loser from Australia.
I’m a golden shower toilet sissy slave loser.

Comments

Anonymous – Feb 14, 2021
It is what it is.

curtis58 – Feb 9, 2021
i’m the best thing that has happened to this cheap little whore in its whole life.

ailing077 – Feb 6, 2021
This slave was nothing, it was worthless, it wasn’t even worth as much as the cum smeared rag I used to wipe myself down when I was done with it.

 

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castingcall, 24
Cast fetishist #1! Medical casts, fiberglass, plaster, etc.!

Comments

castingcall – Feb 25, 2021
I don’t know, man. How should I know? What a strange fucking question.

Rodinho – Feb 25, 2021
so what would i get out of it?

 

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cold_heart420, 21
I am from United state America and I want to live with someone 24/7 so they can fist me, fuck me, and have their feet down my throat or in my ass all the time.

Comments

itsmeandyou – Feb 26, 2021
I own him! Every inch of his skin and every hair on his body! Being a brainless bimbo just comes so naturally to him. I’m so proud to own a cute bimbo… yay! Of course there are occasions when this type of relationship has to be less obvious in certain places and situations, like last night when we went to a football match to watch Northampton.

Anonymous – Feb 17, 2021
You looks grate fuck you so hard your face will pop like a balloon!

cold_heart420 (Owner) – Feb 16, 2021
I used to date a man who’s favorite thing was asking me to run on a treadmill for a hour, then he squeezed the sweat out of my sopping underwear into a glass added a few splashes of vodka and drank it!

 

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Anyway, 21
State your intentions immediately.

Comments

Anyway (Owner) – Feb 15, 2021
Getting the feeling this isn’t a fetish site so much as a place where the falsely intelligent go to hold power in their small worlds.

Anyway (Owner) – Feb 2, 2021
Don’t let the beauty fool you.

 

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SellMySoulToDemon, 18
Sell my soul to demonic ritual.
Use me for demonic rituals. Or anything like that.
Top when it comes to sex however I wish I don’t have to penetrate my dick into your ass hole.

Comments

SellMySoulToDemon (Owner) – Feb 4, 2021
My exactly trip is NOT GAY OR BUSEXUAL STRAIGHT GUY JUST HERE FOR SELLING‼️ Selling demons my whole body with face.

whothefuckisalice – Feb 4, 2021
You’re so hot but what exactly is your trip?

 

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SpookyPig, 19
THIS PROFILE WILL NOT BE DELETED

I’ve decided to kill myself, but I’d like someone to offer to help me “go out with a blast.” So you would arrive, with an assortment of tools, knives and whatnot. What you use is mostly up to you, though I personally would prefer knives over others. You’ll have a hold over my death, whether you let me bleed out by cutting my arteries or cut my throat, or shoot me, it’s all at your disposal. The only requirement is that I die, whether by the end or sometime along the trip. You could call me names, carve them into my skin, tie me up, burn me, anything you want.

Comments

BuildABoy – Feb 27, 2021
Before you get too excited this is a fake revenge profile put up by the jilted ex of the guy in the photos

SpookyPig (Owner) – Feb 20, 2021
Lucky.

JackBruce – Feb 20, 2021
No, that Jack Bruce is dead.

SpookyPig (Owner) – Feb 20, 2021
Thurmont Maryland
Are you Jack Bruce from the band Cream?

JackBruce – Feb 20, 2021
Where are you?

 

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Extraterrestrial420, 19
Only searching for sex with Extraterrestrials ❤ Im not interrested in anything else, so please don´t be mad if i won´t respond to your message. ^-^ Dont tell me you like me humans, waste of time

 

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theonewiththe, 18
Muscular hunks’ asses are the thing I worship 24/7 from afar since childhood and I’d like them to be the thing that destroys me. Let’s use one another & pursue peace. Write to me and tell me about your delightful needs.

Comments

theonewiththe (Owner) – Feb 6, 2021
I AM ALSO A GOOD PSYCHOLOGIST AND I CAN OFFER AS WELL THERAPY SESSIONS.

theonewiththe (Owner) – Feb 3, 2021
🇫🇷/🇪🇸/🇲🇦(+🇱🇧)/🇺🇲/Cat./(+/-🇳🇱) Yes, I do speak that many languages but the most important is the language of rim.

 

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pieceofshitsissy, 18
How old do you want me to be. I can be it. What I need is Europe.

Comments

Kyzungu – Feb 19, 2021
Berlin is the gay cherry, on the wealthy creme of Germany, on the cake first world castle Europe.

Onebigdude70 – Feb 17, 2021
i want you to be 65 years old

pieceofshitsissy (Owner) – Feb 11, 2021
I’m just scary about all that stuff, but I’m really interested in.

pieceofshitsissy (Owner) – Feb 11, 2021
No.

BDSMSirMASTER – Feb 11, 2021
I want to tie you up, rough fuck your mouth and ass, stretch you wide open, take videos and pictures, have you gang banged, restrain you on fuck benches, in slings, make porn with you, kiss you, take you in my mouth and worship your beautiful cock, fuck you over and over, own you for the weekend or more, make you my houseboy, piss on you, consensual non-consensual, and a lot more. Are you interested?

 

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KidnappingLivraison, 20
Hello I am a slave boy. my name is Erwan i escaped from my master. he finded out where i am hiding he orders me to be kidnapped & delivered back to my superior master!

just reply if you are able to do what the profile says

the trip
Departure from Paris
arrival Bourg-en-Bresse

I hope to find the one who wants to bring me back to my master

Comments

stardriver – Feb 24, 2021
I gave him the ride. I stopped en route, got us a hotel, turned him into an abyss and explored it for two days, happily I’ll add.

 

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theaggressiveboy, 22
everyone’s so technically sound, comfortably suffering, more and more and more, everyone.

Comments

wavess – Feb 22, 2021
He loves scat washed down with stale urine.

Redletter – Feb 5, 2021
His asshole is geodesic.

 

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TheWanker, 21
I try everyday to become a good guy. Sometimes I don’t what people enjoy in breaking other people’s heart and make them wanna commit suicide.
I don’t really drink a lot and I don’t really go out a lot but once a blue moon I might go out.
I am a chronic masturbator. Always have been and it’s been worse with covid.
I enjoy watching old movies such as an officer and a gentleman, terms and Endearment, and all my time favorite Smokey and bandit.
I love all kinds of music especially some classics. One favorite all time best song is Endless love.

Comments

M200 – Feb 22, 2021
MASTER and OWNER of slave Wanker (TheWanker); Proud Owner and Master of my slave TheWanker, SLRN 792-223-677; we have been Master and slave for three and a half days and we have been living together for three and a half days. I am very proud and happy to be the Master of the lovely, cute and sexy slave TheWanker.

TheWanker (Owner) – Feb 18, 2021
As of now (11/02/2021), I am owned by M200. If you want me, you would need to kidnap me from M200 which would be impossible. Thank you.

TotalPackage – Feb 3, 2021
Fucked him 8 Times at Mariott Hotel

ShadowSlaved – Feb 1, 2021
I am an average guy, being straight fags never really intrigued me but looking at your ass and how much better it is got my attention so here I am!

 

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ChooseMe, 23
I am seeking someone who can accept me for being mentally ill and can make his face go red and blowing into a condom and hit water bottle once in a while as well as puffing his cheeks in and out and mastibating my penis for me. I like holding your biceps and hand and having my arm around you.

 

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Tear_me_apart, 22
fucktoy with a death wish. Rape me, castrate me, amputate my limbs, bash my skull in…

Comments

jose_martinez – Feb 5, 2021
not really sure how i feel about confessing that on here as the site seems to be full of dodgy cunts but oh well 🤷🏻‍♂️

jose_martinez – Feb 5, 2021
died from gunshot wound to head while riding his bicycle 13/02/21

Tear_me_apart (Owner) – Jan 28, 2021
I don’t have a knife anymore, i promise.

Anonymous – Jan 28, 2021
Watch out for him! Drugged underpass-stealing jizz!

Anonymous – Jan 21, 2021
If you’re worried about getting away with it, he’s in Honduras. Boys there get assassinated by rival gang members all the time. Their dismembered bodies are found on dirt roads every day and no one even blinks at this point.

 

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adamlt, 19
New in France from Algiers, passive faggot boy looking for a home. No sex dates. If you want my bod you have to house it. And in a nice city, not some shithole like Marseilles.

Comments

RickOwensOfficial – Feb 21, 2021
Interest here, but I need to see you nude obvs.

anonuser806 – Feb 18, 2021
His hair style is chic in Algiers he says. He’s deadset on becoming the “it” boy/ top model/ most coveted sugar baby/ Kardashian-alike celebrity of the high fashion world in Paris. Weirder things have happened but not many. I housed him for a few days in Lyon and if you’re into being made to feel insignificant, irrelevant, stupid and small by a prick teasing bimbo who screams bloody murder if you even vaguely suggest having sex, he’s your guy.

Anonymous – Feb 10, 2021
Miss Curls. What a horror.

 

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BREATHCONTROLsub, 22
Hi SIR, thank You for visiting “it’s” profile! “it” is grateful for Your visit, SIR! May “it” please YOU with some of the following, SIR?

BAGGING, plastic bag closed by Your hands, belt, a collar or a cord – Watch with pleasure – sub starts to run out of air SIR!
HOODS, a tight fitting BC hood secured with a padlock. You are in control of sub’s air!
CLING FILM or tape – enjoy watching sub squirm, convulse, … SIR!
STRANGULATION/strangling/choking with gloved hands, lifting “it” up on tip-toe! Thrilling SIR!
GAROTING with a cord pulling “it” backwards!
NOOSEPLAY with a rope, belt, collar, or chain, raising “it” up past the tip-toes! Exciting SIR!
METAL COLLAR with chain, fastened to a hook above and again raising “it” up past tip-toes as high as you want SIR!
DUNKING upside-down or horizontally in a tub or bound, knelt into a container
AIR-TIGHT CONTAINER – trunk or box, closing the padlock – knowing sub will run out of air!
OUTSIDE NAKED, hooded/bagged, bound and vulnerable in the cold! You look through the window with pleasure at “it” shivering, SIR!
AND EVENTUALLY IN TIME, fully in a bath, face down held under by Your boots or pulled under by sub’s ankles until “it’s” finally unreviveable SIR!

Every time SIR decides to bring “it” back to life with electro paddles or adrenaline shot or chest compression etc, “it” will hug SIR in gratitude and thanks!

 

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TheBestYouHad, 20
When I was 13 a man made me undress. Took a choke hold on me and slapped me across my face. It made me cum, just like that.

I’m looking for a Master that doesn’t understand the words “No” or “limits”. Keep moving if those words don’t confuse you.

Ideally I’d love a trauma-informed leftist Master under 30 who’s high risk for COVID so he can’t go out, and if you do gtfo.

Comments

AstonMartin3 – Feb 7, 2021
luckier than him, that’s for fucking sure

Anonymous – Feb 7, 2021
you’re the luckiest motherfucker in the world!

AstonMartin3 – Feb 7, 2021
yep

Anonymous – Feb 7, 2021
he doesn’t respond. did somebody already take him?

 

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dontspeaktoomuch, 21
I am completely 100% straight. Trust me, I know.
I have intense fantasies of being raped that won’t leave me alone. It’s driving me crazy.
Men don’t turn me on at all, quite the opposite, and believe me I’ve imagined being romantic with every kind of male, young and old, even drag queens. Nothing.
But I’ve gotten off hundreds of times to the idea of being brutally raped. Whether is against a tree in the woods, on my childhood bed, or on a dirty motel floor by every pervert, crackhead, and unwashed socially awkward dude I notice on the street.
I don’t expect to get off or like it. In fact feeling permanent lifelong regret and having nightmares afterwards is the hottest thing about it.

Comments

dontspeaktoomuch (Owner) – Feb 21, 2021
been through hell

GiveHotGuysGifts – Feb 20, 2021
I genuinely fucked out his asshole to the extent that anyone who cares to look can tell he’s a bitch.

 

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Tommy, 18
Please get drunk & high with me. Boo! I’ve been watching the most hardcore dark web porn lately & rock hard whilst doing so, I think I need a bit of that action. So I just let my boyfriend go, because from the inside, I am burning. Btw the tats are fake.

Comments

Ash – Feb 8, 2021
Hi Cheese, it’s Ash. (His friends call him Cheese.) Maybe this is the right occasion to tell you what I really think about you. I think you’re an insufferable phoney and I hate your guts. I have always wondered what it would feel like if you were dead. About 65% sure I’d like it. And you know there’s a time in life where you need to experience things.

Tommy (Owner) – Feb 4, 2021
I don’t know what “orifice fantasy” is so yes.

Real_Three_and_Group – Feb 4, 2021
do you accept orifice fantasy?

loveblowandfuck321 – Jan 25, 2021
this boy can drink let me tell you. i wouldn’t want to be his liver.

 

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davidkovac&, 21
We are 2:
I am a crazed hung PNP act and my best friend is a delirium cute from the netherlands into architecture and design.
I want to slam my best friend and get everything from him at once but he’s tall and anti drug so I need a 2nd PNP act.
I am told his ass is like gold.
I want every fluid in him, cum, piss, and especially spit.
I prefer to think he has a pussy and not an ass hole, I hope you do the same.
I am only being this open because I know it won’t happen.
Go away if you are a fucking vanilla.

Comments

Dilix – Feb 20, 2021
I’d rate your profile a like, pig face and upward arrow.

 

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trytrymaybe, 24
Straight loser for € 100 per night.

That means 12 hours of sex for only € 100.

I’m actually straight, but most women and couples want pocket money and that’s why I don’t get a wife.

Now I want to go buy it myself so I can pay women.

I would knead and lick your balls extensively, wank and suck your cock extensively, ride extensively on your cock and you can fuck me in all positions.

I also swallow your sperm and you can slap me and piss in my mouth.

Every time immediately after you cum, I’ll make him hard again and then it can go on.

We have 12 hours for 100 €.

If you fuck me brutally enough so that I get respect for you and I am a slave to you, you can buy me and rent me and we both get 50%.

But in order for me to have respect for someone, He would have to cause me great pain.

Would you also choke my throat until I turn red and start to fidget?

Or that you box and punch and kick me and then brutally rape me to make me feel like a piece of dirt.

Even if I am afraid of war and will bitterly regret it, because I would certainly be in great pain.

But in my opinion, losers deserve nothing else.

But you still have to pay for the first meeting.

Meet either at your place or your hotel room, in your car, or outdoors.

I don’t care about the cold, because when you fuck it gets warm.

And in theory you just need to get your cock out.

And that’s all the time, either in my hand, or in my mouth, or in my ass.

 

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slavepuppyteen, 18
I’m a very young and thin puppy but I want to be a slave and I feel like it’s a huge part of me to be one so ideally 70% of the time as a slave and 30% pup.
I want to learn how to become ok and accept the fact that this is what I want and need for my life.
I’ve also had a small attraction to becoming a quad amputee so even if my being a slave/pup isn’t your cup of tea, you could replace that with a 90% quad amputee and 10% slave/pup. Anyways, yeah.

Comments

MasterxLogan – Feb 22, 2021
I am Master Logan, a Theistic Satanist and owner of slaves both Satanic and otherwise. I am the current Master of slaves LimitlessWhore4All and DegratedSlave16. I am constantly on the lookout for more slaves either to own or sell to fellow Masters. My slaves are available to serve any man in the area as long as they are used violently and raw, no exceptions. I suffered a stroke recently, so I apologize if I’m sending you a message again for I do not recall who I have owned and haven’t owned. If I’ve already owned you then remind me.

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. Just to follow up on yesterday, the blog has continued to be the target of a relentless, non-stop hacking attempt that is still ongoing since I posted here yesterday. I know zip about this stuff, but WordPress tells me it is what’s called a Brute Force Attack. Basically, someone(s) has trained a bot on the blog, and it is ceaselessly attempting to figure out my password, switching to a new IP every time one gets blocked by WP, in order to get inside the blog for unknown reasons. I have upgraded to the highest level of security, and that’s apparently all I can do until whoever/whatever either gets inside or gives up. WP says the blog should hold against the assault, but we’ll see. But I have been getting email notifications of the latest 15 – 25 attacks literally every 30 seconds since I last saw y’all, and it’s a stressful thing, let me tell you. I don’t recommend it, ha ha. Fingers crossed pleased. ** Tomk, Hi, Tom. Yeah, I can’t say that I find this particular hacker very romantic. Weird to wonder, Why me? I didn’t know you’re in the UK! Welcome back! Strange timing, yes, but I think you guys are easing open at least. Awesome, man. I’m at the same stage with my novel. Exciting, yes! ‘Seventh Mansion’ is wonderful, yes, get it when you can. ** Dominik, Hi!!!! My, of course, total pleasure. I’ll take that love you sent to the deepest part of my heart, thank you. Love turning whoever is attacking my blog into a cute Japanese anime figure and dumping it in the deepest, most horrifying depths of gurochan, G. Have a big fun weekend! ** David Ehrenstein, Hi. I like Jarmusch’s aesthetic consistency but I do find the results pretty inconsistent personally. But, hey, gimme him over the vast majority of other American filmmakers in a heartbeat. Great, high hopes and all fingers crossed about the possible agent! ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi, Ben. ‘Ghost Dog’ is one of my very favorites of his too. And a great score by RZA. So curious to hear the workings of your colleague! Everyone, Ben ‘_Black_Acrylic’ Robinson’s great Play Therapy is temporarily out of commission but … here’s Ben: ‘My DJ colleague Il Discotto aka Paul Shark has a show here at Tak Tent Radio!. His mix is very different from the Play Therapy fare, more of a dystopian sound collage with Adam Curtis samples on top. I’m very much impressed with what he does here.’ Thank you, buddy. ** Bill, You would think someone would have a billion more interesting things to do than hack my blog, but since it seems to be a bot turned loose, I suppose whoever is doing this has all the time they need to do whatever else they want, fuckers! The zombie movie is probably his worst film IMO. I liked ‘Paterson’ quite a bit, and it uses the poetry of the very great Ron Padgett. I hope your weekend involves beaucoup de-busying. ** wolf, Wicked canine! Mm, my favourite Jarmusches are ‘Ghost Dog’ and ‘Dead Man’. I also quite like ‘Mystery Train’, ‘Broken Flowers, ‘Paterson’, ‘Limits of Control’, ‘Only Lovers …’. I fear that the ones I can’t stand might be ones you particularly like, oops, sorry: ‘Coffee and Cigarettes’, ‘Night on Earth’. And the awful zombie one. And his Stooges documentary was very disappointing. I even wanted to strangle Benigni in ‘Down by Law’. I’m hardcore. Thanks for the verbal assault on my wannabe hacker. It’s fucked. I feel like I’m hiding in a bomb shelter during a heavy bombing. Ugh. Superior weekend to you! ** Brendan, Hi, B. Here’s heavily hoping the slow reopening of LA is the beginning of the end, or the beginning of the beginning, I guess. Thanks, I’ll check my email, new photos, super! ** Conrad, Hi, Conrad! Great to see you, my crosstown friend. So happy that the recent posts gave your imagination such helpful fodder. Awesome! I haven’t been to the galleries in a few weeks, and I might just go today because I think the shows have changed by now. Boris Lumé’s pastry shop, no. I totally spaced out. Good, thank you, I think I might just head over there today since it’s lovely out. Ooh, yum. I did however go to ‘C’est mon Donuts in the 11th. You have to like American style donuts, but, if you do, they’re yummy and a sight for sore eyes. Have you seen any good gallery shows? Maybe we should go gallery hopping together? Have a sweet weekend. ** Steve Erickson, I saw your email, but my box is being packed with hundreds of hacking notification emails with a new one every 30 seconds, and I need to sort through those first. There’s no real way to track the hacker since his bots are switching IPs every minute or so. Ouch, I hope the muscle relaxants prove relatively godlike. Everyone, Steve Erickson reviews Julien Baker’s new album here. ** Jeestun, Hi, Jeestun! Top of the morning to you if that’s your blog visiting timeframe. It’s certainly true: his own man-ness and the valuable rarity of that. Wild, I didn’t know that about the Sara Driver film. Wow. I’ll hunt it down for all kinds of reasons. Thanks! Prayers that the blog is a sufficient toughie. Thanks! ** Jack Skelley, Mr. Skelley! Oh, whoa, that’s very cool: your Memphis jaunt and tour. Never been there. Weird. Close on a road trip a billion years ago, but no cigar. And I will see you so very happily tonight/this morning! ** Okay. Slaves will see February, the blog, and you guys to the exit door whether you like it not. Assuming my hacker doesn’t manage to destroy the blog this weekend, I will see you on Monday.