_____________

beyourself, 20
My fetishes are extreme. I like cock mutilation and extreme penis torture. My cock can calmly sustain permanent damage. I find Glans Spitting and Subincision particularly cool. Split my cock in two!
If my cock doesn’t bleed, it’s no fun.

In the long term, I would be grateful to my master if he performed a penectomy on me. Without a cock (but with balls) I’ll be horny all the time, with no way to get one down. The thought alone makes me horny.

You are also welcome to give me chems. Then I am really willing and like to make “stupid” decisions. You could e.g. me kidnap under Chem’s and so that I don’t run away, you cut off my cock in the first few days (the earlier the better).

Comments

beyourself (Owner) – August 24, 2020
If that’s too intense I also like to do cardio training with someone where the heart has to work hard at the same time. You would need to wear a nice watch, very much a fitness watch or smartwatch, but I also like normal watches very much.

 

_____________

blobby, 21
Looking to get ugly – not to become horrendous but would like to be less cute, stockier. The idea of being less good-looking really does it for me.

Comments

blobby (Owner) – August 9, 2020
I also think small penis humiliation is super hot but I’m not sure that my penis is small enough.

blobby (Owner) – August 8, 2020
I have no idea why I wrote that, boredom, drunk maybe both.

 

_____________

thankunext, 18
Someone please spank me this morning plz is there even a man that is anofe of a man to give me a spanking anymore i need someone to prove to me that there still a man that knows how to spank a boy like me and will spank my but black and blue

 

_____________

Luke2, 19
Want to be kept as a baby all the time, in a crib ready for you, kept segufixed to the bed in really thick nappies, with a dummy tied in my mouth, mitts over hands, and when not segufixed, in a harness at all times ready to be clipped onto reins, and really, yes 24/7 nappies, thick, bulky, large nappies that come up far too high on me, leg spreader and a inflatable rubber ring around my chest to ensure I can’t touch anything.

Comments

Anonymous – August 13, 2020
That sounds like hell on earth.

Luke2 (Owner) – August 13, 2020
I am also NOT violating the lockdown restrictions so everything would need to be within bounds of guidelines.

 

_____________

slave2take, 22
Take it and take them

My new motto is ‘why the fuck not’

Comments

wheels – August 11, 2020
You sound perfect!! I am married. I am in a wheelchair with 1 leg but doesn’t bother me. I would need to be picked up. I told the wife I was on a community site. I told her I was looking for a buddy to have a beer with play cards 👌

 

_____________

youngandthehorny, 19
I’m a dumb drooly perverted little trap/sissy slut who’s drunk as fuck atm and will do everything in your head and more things that you can image if it it happens right now.

Comments

DenimDad – August 9, 2020
You: a pretty boy always dressed in jeans and cowboy boots and hat. Me: The hot alpha cowboy of your dreams, athletic, confident, cocky and 56 years old. Think about it.

Sleepingbagger – August 9, 2020
Don’t contact me if you are claustrophobic. You’ll spend 99% of your time tied in a mummy bag, tied and gagged in strenuous positions and if not gagged, the draw string will be drawn shut and expect to be face fucked. Don’t worry, I’ll make a small hole out front for cock play and in the back so you can be bent over.

cayden – August 5, 2020
im a banker i have over 100,000 dollars in the bank and i want to share it with someone

Professorfetish – August 3, 2020
Based on the first review what would be the possibility of cleaning you out with as many enemas as you can handle then passing glassfuls around with my buddies and pretend it’s Octoberfest ?

Happy8Chappy8 – August 2, 2020
Just wow!!!!! I didn’t think I would ever say this, but he is the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my life, and I’ve fucked thousands of little traps! He was falling down drunk and I couldn’t understand a word he was saying but it was really, really worth it! Simply wow!!!!! Feeling his moist, warm anal passage encircle my cockhead then gradually inter and hug all 10″ as my groin pressed his cool, insanely smooth ass cheeks pancake flat then pack them in the little suitcase of his hipbones made every hair on my body stand up and do a rhumba!!!!

 

_____________

roadkill, 20
CASTRATION IS NOT A OPTION IT IS A RITE!!

LOSSED MY MASTER STEVEN SCHOCK 1 YEAR AGO AND STILL MISS HIM DAILY
RUBBER MAN ROB I AM SHOCKED AND SADDEN BY YOUR PASSING AND WILL MISS YOU MY FRIEND AND LONGTIME TORMENTOR!
JERRY SPRING WILL MISS YOUR FRIENDSHIP AND YOUR PERFECT ARMS TO WORK MY BACK WITH WHIPS AND MAKE ME HAPPY
MY HIGH SCHOOL LOVE PASSED AWAY ON 4/4/20 I HAVE LOST THE HEART OF MY SOUL ((.))((.)) VLS
MARK KILLER MY FRIEND AND BRUTALIZER FOR 3 YRS I WILL MISS YOUR PERSONALITY AND GUIDANCE
GOODBYE RIP MASTER CLAW best master in years! COSMIC BLOWING! Kept getting better! KEPT GETTING BETTER! WAS JUST THE BEST PERIOD! THE BEST……………NIRVANA!

Comments

Lookin4Object – August 26, 2020
Hit me up object

Petter – August 21, 2020
Big foot ready to crush you under it and ready to offer you that pain that you never ever felt before and many other unforgettable experience.

 

_____________

GodhatesSean, 20
It’s my Quarentine dream to serve as the lowest in a household, below both my Master and his dog(s) and cat(s). Yes, like that. I will serve all of you as my absolute superiors.

Would rather be bored being stored in a box between periods of use, than bored and left to my own devices.

Beond that, I always smoke green 24/7 and you must too. Drink a shit ton. Sing. Former star of high school’s Drama department.

No Way Out till there’s vaccine.

Moaning as the world burns down around us.

Comments

GodhatesSean (Owner) – August 16, 2020
Being in love is being in pain. You can’t tell if your love is real if the pain isn’t there.

GodhatesSean (Owner) – August 10, 2020
Now owned by BearTrancer.
BearTrancer is God.
That’s all that needs to be said.

GodhatesSean (Owner) – August 1, 2020
Come get me at Club Tabu in Lansing today at noon. Surpise me, drug me, seduce me, take me somewhere and brainwash me.

GodhatesSean (Owner) – July 27, 2020
Let’s share feelings as well as STDs.

 

_____________

tourist_trap, 19
Hey there, I’ll be visiting NYC soon, looking to be the normal tourist stuff like see a show, the Statue of Liberty, etc. I’d also like to spend some time in my hotel room hosting breeders.

Comments

greenmountainman – August 8, 2020
i want to make your boy hole wet n gape n scream n talk

velvetmature – August 8, 2020
Breeding you should be compulsory.

italiandick – August 8, 2020
I’ll fuck the shit out of you.

 

_____________

turnmeintogay, 21
A wedding I was dragged to by my parents, too much champagne, an encounter with a man who tricked me into an empty room and raped me… and suddenly I discovered not only who I am deep down, but what I am called to become. I now see that not only do I a need a man who can take me there over and over… is that you? But I have been seeking just such a man all my life. I’m usually free from like 11pm-5am pretty much.

Comments

abner31 – August 19, 2020
Looking for a big belly senior citizen clown dad older than 65 and over 300 pounds who is a heavy smoker and is taking the pandemic as seriously as I am to help me appreciate his boypussy, Sun (19th Aug), from 10am to 6pm.

Ghidaon – August 11, 2020
If you want to feel tingles and your heart to pound like a drum? Look into his eyes. If you want him to do absolutely anything you ask of him? Buy him 3 shots of tequila!

Jack47 – August 2, 2020
If white men having young, pretty, fem Philippino partners didn’t immediately signal to everyone else in the world that they’re sex obsessed pedos I probably would have asked him to marry me.

 

_____________

Fuckedinthehead, 22
Due to this Coronavirus situation I have had to postpone my original plans, however, by the end of the year/beginning of next year I’m going to be snuffed and carved into steaks out in California. I just can’t wait!

Comments

Fuckedinthehead (Owner) – August 21, 2020
Hegel was my grandpa.

 

_____________

inbornobject4sale, 24
i am selling this inborn slave object for hard set sadist own it rest of its life. its only for place where its kept outside of society for become step-by-step turn into what it were born to be, a subhuman animal slave.

it is inborn slave and meant to be owned and lived with its hard sadist who put it suffer and living in misery. it is not person, it dont have a personality or identy. it dont have any opinions.

this faggot 4 sale is inborn thing and it is is an inferior life form. It is live-stock in human form that functions, acts, performs in whatever manner is required so that its Superior SADIST owner can enjoy an enhanced and more comfortable lifestyle. Thank You!

Comments

badthingsyo – July 30, 2020
Based on how it was when it was free leave its face covered in spit, cum, puke, blood, and then wash it down with piss.

Anonymous – July 25, 2020
Last November I damaged the sciatic nerve in his left foot and his mobility is now severely compromised.

Joeevil – July 16, 2020
Had it once last year. Can recommend: repeatedly choking it until it see stars and start to fade, slaps, punches, tied up/handcuffed with duct tape over its mouth, whipped, flogged, belted, enema torture, its hole forced open with fingers, dildos, other objects you want, being made into a filthy (and I mean filthy) toilet, brutally fisting it as it screams and weep with its face buried in a pillow, etc.

 

______________

davidbowie, 20
Come dose my ass. Fill it with pills, 420 smoke, meth rocks, alcohol, whatever you want, then let the chips fall where they do.

At a certain point, we all accept who we truly are. At my core, I am a slutty insatiable medicine cabinet and I totally embrace that.

But my friends know me as an educated technology professional.

Comments

davidbowie (Owner) – August 12, 2020
Ok maybe once my GF leaves town for grad school (2 years).

Nogames668 – August 12, 2020
To be more specific, I have a fetish for hypodermic needle play, so it would happen by giving you injections in various places like the soles of feet, arms, nipples, cock, tongue, etc, first just harmless water then sedatives of an increasing strength leading to a fatal overdose that I guarantee would give you (and your corpse) a blissful smile. For the sake of transparency, I’m also a necrophile, but whether that’s a fetish of yours or not doesn’t matter obviously.

davidbowie (Owner) – August 12, 2020
You gotta be real special for me to consider that.

Nogames668 – August 12, 2020
You want a billionaire owner and live in a castle? I will end up snuffing you at some point I hope this is not too much to ask.

davidbowie (Owner) – August 9, 2020
I collect old movies on VHS tape.

siares – August 9, 2020
either you collect old movies on VHS tape or your photos are really old

davidbowie (Owner) – August 6, 2020
If you take it too seriously I will laugh in your face no matter what position you have me tied in.

davidbowie (Owner) – August 6, 2020
No I didn’t. I thought you were a joke.

PleaseUseYouPig – August 6, 2020
He crawled out of MY sight – once I was done with him – whimpering, most likely bawling and goddam grateful to escape the humiliation I afflicted on his inferior non-person-self.

 

______________

guywiththehair, 18
My Vibe?

Watching the sun go down while sitting on a roof of a skyscraper and listening to Siloh. That’s my Vibe.

Not free.

Comments

guywiththehair (Owner) – August 16, 2020
I don’t know exactly what am I doing. Quarantine makes me a little insane.

guywiththehair (Owner) – August 12, 2020
My biggest passions is the spiritual world, I live a life of love and unity with the universe.

guywiththehair (Owner) – August 10, 2020
You can be a 1000 years old or an ugly toad as long as you have weed and a games console.

 

________________

boo, 20
My list of what I’ll do or not so far:
1. Scat (shit) – no
2. piss – yes
3. extreme throat/skull fucking – yes
4. eating armpits – yes
5. worshipping feet – yes
6. puppy play – think it’s silly but yes
7. CBT – yes
8. bondage – yes
9. Hot wax – yes
10. spit – yes
11. snot – no
12. Underage – so tempting but no
13. Permanent marks – no
14. Women – huge no
15. Public – yes
16. Group – yes if it’s many
17. Extreme pain – talk me into it
18. Humiliation – huge yes
19. Anal – huge and all encompassing yes
20. Death threats – huge yes if drenched in irony

Comments

boo (Owner) – August 22, 2020
I am a desert and we should annihilate the patriarchy

fudgepacker – August 22, 2020
When was the last time you did something for the first time?

 

______________

object4snuff, 21
No limits. Make me understand, in a conscious way, this kind of need.

Comments

BrianTrevor – August 6, 2020
Hey real quick? WHY?

dyl98789 – August 4, 2020
Keen

object4snuff (Owner) – August 4, 2020
I can’t accommodate so you’ll need a venue for the carnage.

 

______________

Photogenic, 21
I’m an escapee from small town Missouri dreariness. Moved to Kansas City last year hoping to break out.

Straight but been feeling in a really gay mood lately. Need someone to help me embrace it even more.

For those in Kansas City you might’ve caught glimpse of me at Missie B’s and Hamburger Mary’s before COV came down.

The book that is my past is currently in flames i.e. those days are over.

My only limit is dissolution. I don’t engross in such like.

Comments

berowne – August 17, 2020
drank my cum from the spout, took my cum up his nostrils and in his ears, took an ass-full of my cum, fingerpainted himself with my cum, made me proud.

ITMan – August 11, 2020
Don’t spend a great deal of time talking with him due to his distractive nature.

GAustin – August 1, 2020
walk in and start slapping him across the face hard. pull his pants down at the back, eat his lettuce, fuck him hard and raw against a wall. seed him. snog to reharden. repeat.

 

______________

BillySuffers, 21
ex straight boy.. NOW.. EXPOSED BI BTM
Meet up and lets have a lot of drinks
Im dumb and i hope u are too!
if i dont respond after two days, give up

Comments

BillySuffers (Owner) – August 23, 2020
My entire life is a lie. i hate it

inner-city-man – August 22, 2020
Dislikes gays, thinks himself superior with his disgusting hot body disgusting cute ass and is just there to make emptying your balls the worst night of your life. To flee!

ithinkyoushouldleave – August 18, 2020
He was out of his mind of some drug or other. Very defiant. Total dumbass, can’t be reasoned with. If I’d known I would have brought my gun and maybe an armed friend. Managed to get him down and makeout with his asshole and fuck him six ways from Sunday but I pulled a muscle in my bicep in the struggle.

BillySuffers (Owner) – August 15, 2020
so let me be clear.. i consider being BI BTM the worst gift God has given to me

 

______________

sludge, 19
WHO IS THIS BITCH ? Know the face, but can’t place the name ?

Was it the high schoolbitch ? Or the clubbitch ? Perhaps it was the teen idler flashing its arse outside the gents ? Or was, a long time back, a thing in kindergarten, batting its eyes at other childs’ fathers ? Later, could it have been the filthy roadsweeper ? Or that lavatory attendant, always attentive, always willing and more than available if the toilet paper ran out ? Or even the pervert haunting the cardboard city under the arches at Waterloo, the one who stripped naked for photo or videos, unpaid of course but anxious to make its name as porn film actor ?

Name it !

Comments

Anonymous – July 17, 2020
His name is Tim Robinson. I was going to say Rim Jobinson, ha ha ha. You’re hilarious!

edenbcn – July 12, 2020
I don’t know who he is but my dream is to put an arm up his ass to the shoulder one day. And I’m 6’7″.

 

______________

loveinsert, 24
looking for hard fucks (quickies only!). i have place and will provide lube (or u can use tongue and spit). NO to kissing and blowjob. im straight but like to party, and when I party i like be fucked. U can watch porn while fucking my ass. Im not picky, i dont care if you are ugly or have a small dick or if u cum really fast. i also sell high fun stuffs low cost one gram 3000/-

Comments

loveinsert (Owner) – August 13, 2020
If ure having a bad day just remember u suck and tomorrow will be worse.

Benoit – August 10, 2020
If you feel ugly enough to not put a picture of your damn face, I’ll find you too ugly so fuck u.

Alexmone – August 10, 2020
Tight ass! He barley could take my big cock. Painful face? You never seen such a painful face! I really enjoyed it!

i_likefuckasshole – August 8, 2020
He’s really Hot and cute asf and cldnt give a f and he’s everything a Man wants.

 

______________

include, 23
Widowed May 8, 2020…. from a man I could not live with except when we could be together in hotel rooms within 8 hours driving time from me. He remained married to his second wife (ten years his senior who rescued him financially in certain ways, and who died only a year before he did.). His skills (mechanical, hydraulic and coordinating with electricians) were in demand internationally, but he worked only in Continental USA (by preference & possibly capacities). Extremely coincidentally, after about 10 months, I realized his name (excepting the middle one) was identical to the work of the Scottish CERN physicist whose work I am studying as part of preparation for my oral examination …. for admission to Doctoral candidacy.

Trained (partially & initially, age 14) by a slave to the developer of the Leather Pride flag & co-founder of The Leather Archives & Museum (Dr. Anthony DeBlase, deceased). [also second owner of Drummer Magazine]. I found out just today that my first leather master, R.M. Died on Dec. 12, 2019 on what would have been my father’s 65th birthday.

employee of a huge international banking system starting age 16. Quit early as my productivity declined significantly after finding out the date of death of my 18 year biker Buddy & Master—- a year and a half later!!

Classically musically trained 6 years, continued on my own until age 18, publicly performed on piano January 8, 2019; wowed a Master Class audience (and teacher ?); ~2 years accordion, ages 8-11, piano, medieval recorders, violin, guitar, Great Highland Bagpipes (with Long Island Ravens Pipe & Drum Band …performed in Canada 3x & around the NE area 2018-19…. the first lesbian & gay Pipe & Drum Band as instructor to new pipers).

Physical overpowering, capture, abduction, permanent bondage sought.

Comments

include (Owner) – August 2, 2020
There are also photos of me suitable for everyday use.

 

______________

NOWIAMFAMOUS, 18
I have a fetish where I love to see european white men get grabbed by their shirt or tie, I love pulling white guys ties, also like when guys bite their shirt collars, so I’m looking for a man to help my with my Dreams,I’m only into European white men and in general white men from North America or elsewhere, my only requirement is white men, I need a white men in my life, I am happy to be here because I know I will get what I want here soon.

 

_____________

Dinnertime, 23
Perfect turkey or piglet boy for your dinner table.
I’d like to be collected and prepared for dinner. Whole turkey boy roast or butchered up pork chops… you choose.

Can also be kept prior to be milked for juices if you wish.
Bound to the wall cock milked all day long to produce a stream of milk.
I live in Oak Ridge, Tn in The Perserve neighborhood off Gallahar road.

 

______________

servantforarab, 18
Spanish boy, discreet, thin, submissive, with a sexuality that depends directly on pleasing Arabs. I am looking for an Arab Master (macho, possessive, of Arab life and customs) because he is the macho model with whom I can develop and give utility to the submissive boy that I am. I would like to learn your culture until I make it my own, even become a Muslim (I say this with all the respect that religion implies for an Arab). I am a Spanish boy who understands that I am in a territory that does not belong to me, but to the Arab Male. I am a submissive boy of those who if someone tries to harm my Master or his (family, friends, etc.), I become an animal. I’d rather watch straight porn than gay. And from there, my sexuality will be what my Arab Master says. My submission and servitude is directly linked to your macho, very dominant, masculine and disciplined Arab behavior. Your attitude ties me not your violence, although I love that you are violent.

Comments

servantforarab (Owner) – August 5, 2020
Um.. no I didn’t.

cocksuckermachine – August 5, 2020
Um … you had a cock and balls 3 nights ago

servantforarab (Owner) – August 5, 2020
I guess I should mention I was born male and read as a cute male in public and use male pronouns but I had a Vaginoplasty in February 2020.

Jeofil – July 31, 2020
He’s a happy go lucky person and has positive outlook on life.

 

_____________

usemyasss, 24
Hello SIRS I am a former waiter and laundry manager.

I have come only for straight males who are bored with pussy.

Full package (eat, explore, fuck, breed, stretch, toys, fist, gape) – 30,000
Prolapse + play – 20,000
Full package + rough SM – 35,000
Fuck, breed – 12,000
Rim, lick, eat – 8,000
Group -?
Full ownership + relocate – 80,000

You may go broke.
You won’t get bored.

Comments

lecherous – August 20, 2020
HIGH PSYCHOLOGOSEXUAL LEVELS

usemyasss (Owner) – August 12, 2020
yup, i am that shit

LargoRican – August 12, 2020
Did you used to call yourself chlorodrughypnouseme?

SexWishlist – August 9, 2020
You can do pretty much anything you can’t afford and then coincidentally do it with him.

MAN_NO_RUN – August 6, 2020
Most expensive great ass you will ever find

 

___________

Femmebitch, 18
I’ve stretched and ruined my arse with huge toys and tried to fist myself to the elbow with no luck (fuckin biology) feel free I would love to see what it feels like to have a hand rummaging inside my ribcage

Comments

Anonymous – August 22, 2020
What it feels like is you’ll be vomiting uncontrollably and having seizures but if that doesn’t bother you I would so fucking love to.

 

___________

SmashIT, 18
This account is shit. I made a password and later, I forgot the password to change my mail. Also the mail is no longer used! Can’t accept the verification. Fuck Fuck Fuck! Why am I have to be so forgetful!

Now I’ve gotta say yes or no to people without seeing their pictures! Shitty memory!

I’m gonna make another account with same picture of me, I can’t delete this account like I said. I forget the pass, this is fucked up. So to people who have texted me here, please kindly search the same account name. But a bit different, 2ndSmashIT. So go over there and let’s have some fun fuckerzzzz!💦💦

 

___________

GameboyAdvance, 20
i’m a nice boy who is ready to be kidnapped, mind fucked, broken until it’s time to snuff me. i also like it when a guy can turn-off the evil murderer trip and just, like, be a human person. i also like being called a filthy ***** while a dude ***** my ******. i also like being mummified and choked/suffocated for 6 hours. i don’t like having my legs broken unless it’s snuff time but breaking arms and ribs are fine.

Comments

GameboyAdvance (Owner) – August 27, 2020
i guess i also like being talked out of it cuz i have a boyfriend now. later.

 

___________

BreedMyNephew, 18
I am looking to drug my hot, obnoxious nephew into an unconscious state and watch Black men fuck and breed and fill him full of cum in a dark candle lit room.

Comments

BreedMyNephew (Owner) – August 4, 2020
His name is Marty.

wind_flower – August 4, 2020
I know this guy. Used to have friends come over all the time, we’d hang out for a bit, maybe have some bud, and then watch some home movie kind of videos of his nephew swimming and skating and goofing around while we jacked off.

 

_____________

🚽, 24
Just a very good looking boy who wants to let some guy take my entire body, dehumanize it, “install” me as a real white porcelain bathroom toilet object for use forever.

Used to CD for someone a while back but ever since the COVID period I never really got back into it, thus my body hair is average because there’s quite a few places i can’t reach to shave at all, but trust me i would kill to be smooth again.

I do not show my very attractive face due to i have a lot of stuff going on in my life. I just can’t risk it. Also I find a calm cultured toilet user far more attractive than a sweary shouty one.

Comments

AgelessAl – August 18, 2020
Toilet now installed in my apt. in central Stuttgart. Make my toilet public on this schedule:

Thursday – from 17.00 clock
Friday – from 13.00 clock
Saturday – all day
Sunday – all day
Monday – from 17.00 clock
Tuesday – from 17.00 clock

 

_____________

GarconTurbulent, 20
I like everything, I like nothing.
Here to meet and have sex. Possibly, forever.
I like sex, computers, (bad) food.
Are you Arab, renegade, Asian, Australian, French, or even Argentinian? I do not care.
Are you a young person? Not so young? An old? A really old? I do not care.
Are you an ass man? A cock sucker? A violet psycho? A kindly, adoring type? I do not care.
Are you looking for a fuckhole? A bastard? A nice boyfriend? Best friend? Worst enemy? Someone to just discuss shit with? Something else? I do not care.

Comments

GarconTurbulent (Owner) – August 5, 2020
Deleted the app for a brief second cuz a guy broke my jaw, but ready to get started again if you can deal with a swollen bruised face.

BusinessVisitor – July 18 24, 2020
I hooked up with him pre-pandemic. Top areas of satisfaction in no particular order.

1. Rough anal
2. Big toys
3. Fisting
4. Rough fisting
5. Punch fisting
6. Fuck machine
7. Rape

And yes he truly did not appear to give a shit.

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** Ferdinand, Hi. Cool, thanks. I learned Dutch to some degree when I was living in Amsterdam, not well enough to read lit. with any complexity, but I tried. I like the Dutch language. It’s very passive aggressive in a strange way. Very locked down but easily filled with insinuation. I even like the way it sounds. It’s rare that I find anyone who agrees with me about that. There’s a great mostly English language bookstore here, After8. It has a strong visual art leaning but a good selection of fiction, poetry, theory. It’s really the only place to find US small press books, especially of a more experimental bent, which is my thing. Otherwise, Shakespeare & Co. is pretty okay with poetry and books about Paris, but its fiction and stuff is basically mainstream literary. Not useful for me except on very rare occasions. The Red Wheelbarrow is nearly all poetry and quite good. WH Smith is great for English language magazines and journals but its book selection is best sellers-only. I have to order a lot. Luckily presses and writers send me books a fair amount unsolicited, so that’s my big reliance. ** JM, Hi. The purchase appeared to go off without a hitch. Thanks so much for helping out, man. ** David Ehrenstein, I think Gavin lives in some heavily rural area in the South, so maybe that has something to do with it? Everyone, Mr. Ehrenstein is selling this at the bargain price of $100. Hit him up @ cllrdr@ehrensteinlnad.com. ** Bill, Hi. Yeah, that was wack, no? Dear ‘god’, hopefully Paris will be open to visitors by early next year, and I hope I’m not dreaming when I say that because I’ll be stuck here until that happens. Well, not stuck because I love it here, but … you know. I do know Collectif Jeune Cinema, yes. One of the great benefits of being here, that project. Get some sweet winds? ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi. Yeah, that Leckey was new to me too. ** G, Hi, G. Oh, great, I’m happy it proved full of goodies! Building posts like that are labor intensive, for sure, but I seem to take some nerdy pleasure in hunting under a thematic rubric since I seem to be doing it a lot recently. Looking forward to the new episode on Wednesday! I love ‘Funeral Rites’. It’s my favorite Genet. Oh, I saw the film of ‘Equus’, like, a very, very long time ago, but I don’t remember very much about it. Really only the last line: ‘There’s a chain in my mouth, …’ I don’t think I ever saw it staged, and I haven’t read it. I have friends who are hugely into that play. I didn’t get to the manga store because my toe was still making big walking trips uncomfortable. You know, I’m actually really weak on the manga genre. I’ve read them and liked pretty much everything I remember reading, but no single one springs to mind. It’s an area in which I need/hope to educate myself better. I haven’t thought more about ‘The Weaklings XL’ republishing ideas. I guess that’s what agents are for. Maybe I’ll ask mine if she wants to query presses, although, as there’s little to no money in it, she probably won’t be interested. Happiest Monday! ** Misanthrope, Slammed and mysterious. Can be an interesting combination. Ouch. I do highly recommend chiropractic treatment. But you need to find a good, recommended one. I’ve been to miracle workers but also to ones who didn’t fix squat. When it works, it’s a fucking magic act. George, I have to say I had this feeling that David fitting so smoothly into that job was a little too good to be true. I’m so sorry. His unwillingness or inability to get beyond his need to immediately and easily satisfy himself is worrying. I don’t know what you do in a situation like that to change things and help him. I fear he’s heading for a big crash, something serious that he won’t be able to finagle and charm his way out of. I hope not, but … yeah, I’m so sorry to hear that, man. ** Steve Erickson, It’s based on an arcade game called ‘Hogan’s Alley’. I noticed ‘Beyond the Curve’ on a freebie streaming site somewhere. I’ll try to re-find it. ** Okay. The last day of the month means you get to see your slave pals again, or, rather, a whole new batch of submissive potential friends. Party down and choose wisely. See you tomorrow.

—-

 

‘Though his books — including Springer’s Progress (1977), Wittgenstein’s Mistress (1988) and This Is Not a Novel (2001) — were often admiringly reviewed, Mr. Markson was a novelist well known largely to other novelists. This was partly because he was a central figure in the Village writing scene in the 1960s, a frequenter of literary watering holes like the Lion’s Head, but also because he eschewed conventional novelistic forms and tropes. Like other experimentalists, he made the form of the novel, at least in part, its subject.

‘Mr. Markson’s books expressed, both mischievously and earnestly, the hem-and-haw self-consciousness of the perpetual thought-reviser. He wrote mostly monologues, or at least the narration seemed to emanate from a single voice, though the books were not necessarily narrated in the first person. (The writer at the focus of This Is Not a Novel, for instance, is called Writer.)

‘Mr. Markson did not much bother with character development or plot; nor, as his work evolved, did he care much for devices of organization like chapters, or even paragraphs. Rather, he built his books in nuggets and epigraphs, oddball observation by peculiar found fact, to portray the mind of the narrator, who was generally an artist in some state of mental distress.

‘True to its title, This Is Not A Novel doesn’t, at first glance, appear to be a novel at all. As in his 1996 book “Reader’s Block,” Markson assembles a series of notebook-like entries that relate historical facts, philosophical observations and nasty gossip about the lives of great writers and artists throughout history. A typical item: “Trollope, as remembered by a schoolmate at Harrow: Without exception the most slovenly and dirty boy I have ever met.” The book begins with an entry that declares, “Writer is pretty much tempted to quit writing,” which is followed by “Writer is weary unto death of making up stories.” “Writer,” whoever he is, pops up now and then after that, complaining more about his writerly ennui and various physical ailments and declaring his determination to create a book that lacks every standard feature of the traditional novel, from story to setting to social themes, but — through sheer force of Writer’s will, perhaps — will somehow still be a novel.

‘Several themes recur; we read of coincidences involving well-known artists, writers and other historical figures, and of their personal hygiene and causes of death. “Pound died of a blocked intestine,” we learn, and “Tennessee Williams choked to death on the plastic cap of a nasal spray,” and “The first English translation of Madame Bovary was done by a daughter of Karl Marx. Who would later take her own life much the way Emma does.” With what seems a special delight, Writer also makes us privy to famous artists’ stingy estimations of other artists’ talents and achievements: “What a coarse, immoral, mean and senseless work Hamlet is, Tolstoy said,” for example.

‘The mix includes a few aphorisms and odd facts that don’t quite fit any pattern but share the mischievous, curious, witty and unapologetically dark spirit of the whole enterprise. “A double play gives you two twenty-sevenths of a ballgame. Pointed out Casey Stengel”; “Was Plutarch the first writer ever to counsel kindness to animals?” There are a few running jokes. “Writer’s arse,” runs a line that recurs after entries that relate preposterous assertions, such as Harold Bloom’s claim that he can read 500 pages in an hour.

‘The challenge he’s taken on, Writer says early in the book, is to make readers keep turning pages even while denying them all the traditional pleasures they open novels expecting. “Is Writer thinking he can bring off what he has in mind?” he asks early in the game, but the reader is left with few doubts. Somehow, the momentum of the book is as forward-moving as any narrative. As you turn the pages, you realize that there is a story being told, the story of a character you come to care deeply about. When Writer reveals a devastating truth on the book’s very last page, one that puts in context all the preceding preoccupations, your heart wrenches.

‘Mr. Markson excavated the history of literature and art for eerily resonant and often amusing, petty or scandalous tidbits of biography and juxtaposed them with declarations about the narrator’s state of mind. Such was the form of many of Mr. Markson’s books. And though readers who crave narrative may have been put off by them, reviewers almost always found themselves succumbing to what many referred to as a cumulative, hypnotic effect. His admirers included Amy Hempel, Ann Beattie and David Foster Wallace, who referred to Wittgenstein’s Mistress — a monologue by a female painter, evidently mad, wandering the globe as the last surviving person on earth — as “pretty much the high point of experimental fiction in this country.”’ — Maria Russo & The New York Times

 

_______
Further

‘David Markson: Address Unknown’
David Markson: An Introduction
Buy David Markson’s books
‘An Author’s Personal Library: Lost & Found’
David Markson Page @ Facebook
‘A Passionate Reader: On DavidMarkson
‘TINAN’ Resource Page
Stephen Mitchelmore on ‘TINAN’ @ Spike Magazine
‘TINAN’ reviewed @ Salon
‘TINAN’ @ Goodreads

 

_____
Media

David Markson reads @ the 92nd Street Y

D.M. on drinking w/ Malcom Lowry & Dylan Thomas

Neil Halstead – David Markson’s Wittgenstein’s Arm

Inspired by This Is Not A Novel, authors of non-traditional fictions discuss their work.

 

_________
Interview
from Bookslut

 

Is there something about people at the edge of sanity that appeals to you?

No, not at all, it’s just inviting. What the hell, craziness is a lot more dramatic to handle than sanity. Which Dostoevsky proved all those years ago — trying to write a book about a perfectly good person and it’s the one volume among all his major works that’s a total botch. Unlike all his others, filled with lunacy and suicide and murder, et cetera. Or think about ninety percent of all the literary protagonists we find most memorable — Ahab, Heathcliff, Stavrogin, even all the way back to Don Quixote — every one of them is certifiable.

Madness and religion do often get coupled too, as a literary theme — in your work as well as in those.

It’s much more symbolic than real, of course. When Fern lifts her hand in front of the blind infant and its eyes seem to move — as if she’s some sort of sainted prostitute out of old hagiography or some such. But of course it’s just that she has turpentine all over her hands, from her painting, which I mention several times. I didn’t do that in Wittgenstein’s Mistress, I don’t think, because I was too preoccupied with all the philosophy that’s buried in there. Wittgenstein himself, but Heidegger also, though nobody’s picked up on him. But with Going Down, yes, even if it’s frequently a matter of local Mexican superstition rather than religious per se. I had a head full of it, after three full years in the country. Indeed, one of the loveliest compliments I ever got was from a bright Mexican gal who used to call me “el estúpido gringo” because my Spanish was so bum — but when the book came out all those years later she said, “All you ever seemed to do down here for three years was drink, but damn it, you were paying attention.”

You’re something of a token underappreciated author. How do you feel about that?

Token, I love the word, yes. I seem to get written about that way, lately. Somebody sent me a clipping from the Los Angeles Times, and somebody else sent the same thing from The Chicago Tribune, about some bloggers banding together to promote authors they feel haven’t reached the audience they deserve — such as “the David Markson’s of our world,” or something like that. And then in the Times here in New York there was something similar, a passing mention of little-recognized writers, and naming me among them. One of my friends told me to be careful before I become well known for being unknown.

How does it make you feel, not being as widely acclaimed as many of us believe you should be? Is it frustrating?

Listen, you write the way you do because you have to, and because it’s who you are. But nice things happen too, reputation or no. Just recently, for example, a letter from someone here in town, whom I don’t know at all, wanting nothing, simply telling me that if I need anything — if I want to say “lift this” or “move that” — I should give him a call. Or someone else, saying that he’s recently read Wittgenstein for a second time, and that he did it aloud, sitting alone in his apartment and speaking the entire book to himself, simply to capture the rhythms and taking two days to do so. Or then again, on a much more concrete level, at least two books about my work are being written that I’m aware of, and several essays or chapters in critical studies, and so forth. What more can someone in my position ask for? In some small way you’re finally paying back the debt you owe to those books that moved you and got you started in the first place — books like Lowry’s, in my case, Willie Gaddis’ The Recognitions, Joyce, any number of others. Or am I making all this sound precious, here?

Speaking of influences, of other books — I want to make a point to mention the size of your personal library, hanging on all the walls surrounding us, floor to ceiling.

Actually, there were more. I’ve sold off quite a few in the last ten years or so, just for breathing space. And in all honesty, I’ve been very tempted lately to dump the whole lot of them.

Wow. Why would you do that?

For starters, I’m seventy-seven — toward what eventuality am I holding onto them? How many of them am I going to reread? Over there to your right, the fiction — Hardy, George Eliot, Dickens, even Faulkner, whom I once worshipped — am I ever going to open 99% of them again?

Some of them might be worth money?

No, virtually none. If you look closely you’ll see that they’re all worn and faded — well, I’ve never kept dust jackets — plus, they’re written-in and whatnot. A lot of the spines are even so tattered that they’re scotch-taped to hold them on.

First editions?

Oh, sure, some. My Catch-22, probably. I knew Joe Heller before he wrote it, so I bought it as soon as it came out. Portnoy’s Complaint also, since I’d read excerpts beforehand. Four or five Faulkners. And others, I’m sure. But they’re all in the same beat-up condition as the rest.

Are any of them inscribed?

Some are, yes. But I’ve generally been so broke that the most valuable of those I’ve sold long since. Like my Under The Volcano, say, or Dylan Thomas. Or an On the Road. Which, incidentally, Jack was so drunk when I asked him to sign it that he jammed the pen right through the flyleaf.

Kerouac, Lowry, Gaddis, man. Quite a roster of past masters. Where did I read that you no longer pay attention to more recent fiction?

It’s true. Any fiction, really. I hate to admit it, and I don’t really understand it, but it’s some years now — it just seems to have gone dead for me. Not just recent stuff, but even novels that I’ve deeply cared about — I try to reread and there’s none of the reaction I used to get, none of the aesthetic excitement or whatever one wants to call it, all a blank. With one exception of course — I can always reread Ulysses. In fact I went through it twice, consecutively, just a few years ago. But hell, that’s not like reading a novel, it’s more like reading the King James Bible. Or Shakespeare. You’re at it for the language. But even The Recognitions, which I think is categorically the best American novel of the twentieth century, just doesn’t do anything similar for me. It did, the first four times I read it — and four is not an exaggeration, by the way, in spite of its length — but the last time out it just went flat. It’s not the books, I’m sure, it’s me — I’m just not bringing the same receptiveness to them that I used to.

No other exceptions?

Oh, well, there are books by friends, that you do give yourself to. You approach them with a different psychological stance, somehow, wanting to enjoy. And doing so. As with the most recent Gil Sorrentino, for instance. Or Ann Beattie’s new collection of stories. But there’s simply no impulse toward anything else, and certainly not toward the latest generation. They all seem like they shouldn’t have driver’s licenses, even. You do become aware of the names, of course. Who are they, Lethem, Foer, Eggers? Are they mostly named Jonathan?

You know of them, but you’re not interested in reading them?

Seriously — to paraphrase Ezra Pound, there’s no record of a critic ever saying anything significant about a writer who came later than he did. You grow up getting interested in books, and the writers of your own generation or the generation or two before your own are the ones you pay most attention to. But listen, I’m scarcely as bad as some of the people I know. But good lord, some of the people I went to college or even graduate school with pretty much quit about nine days after they got their diplomas. And haven’t read a poet since Auden, or a novelist since Hemingway. There was one fat novel I did read. In 1996, in fact. I remember the date because my novel Reader’s Block had also just been published: Infinite Jest. Before I’d heard of David Foster Wallace, way back in 1990, he’d written a very perceptive long essay on Wittgenstein’s Mistress for a periodical. Even though I was never able to solve the structure of his novel, to understand why it ended where it did, I admired the hell out of it. Eight or nine years ago even, I wasn’t reading with the equipment I possessed when I was younger. But pat me on the head, I did manage to get through one novel that long in the past decade.

 

___
Book

David Markson This Is Not A Novel
Counterpoint Press

‘The novel, as a literary form, relies on a number of strategies to tell its story. Plot, characters, and settings are just a few of the formal qualities that we expect when we pick one up. But consider, for a moment, the word “novel” itself. It is ironic that what we call a “novel” is bound up in a relatively stable set of conventions which belie the novelty or newness its namesake suggests. It is this tension that makes David Markson’s This Is Not a Novel an ambitious and compelling postmodern work that makes one think about the process of reading itself.

‘Markson’s text begins, “Writer is pretty much tempted to quit writing,” and from there the reader is presented with 190 pages of anecdotes, quotes, and the “Writer’s” comments on his own writing. As a whole, the book presents an interesting collage of the history of art and literature, peppered with artistic and literary obituaries like “Tennessee Williams choked to death on the plastic cap of a nasal spray.” This litany of figures is both humorous and depressing, considering that many of the writers and artists eulogized died miserable or unheroic deaths. When one considers the juxtaposition of the “Writer” who chimes in from time to time, it becomes clear that he acknowledges that he too will someday be added the catalog of the dead.’ — Davin Heckman, PopMatters

_______
Excerpt
borrowed from The Evening Redness in the West

Writer is pretty much tempted to quit writing.

Writer is weary unto death of making up stories.

Lord Byron died of either rheumatic fever, or typhus, or uremia, or malaria. Or was inadvertently murdered by his doctors, who had bled him incessantly.

Stephen Crane died of tuberculosis in 1900. Granted an ordinary modern life span, he would have lived well into World War II.

This morning I walked to the place where the street-cleaners dump the rubbish. My God, it was beautiful. Says a van Gogh letter.

Writer is equally tired of inventing characters.

Bertolt Brecht died of a stroke. Terrified of being buried alive, he had pleaded that a stiletto be driven through his heart once he was declared legally dead. An attending physician did so.

Mr. Coleridge, do not cry. If opium really does you any good, and you must have it, why do you not go and get it? Asked Wilkie Collins’ mother.

William Blake lived and dressed in inconceivable filth, and virtually never bathed. Mr. Blake’s skin don’t dirt, his wife Catherine contributed.

When I was their age I could draw like Raphael. But it took me a lifetime to learn to draw like they do. Said Picasso at an exhibition of children’s art.

A novel with no intimation of story whatsoever, Writer would like to contrive.

And with no characters. None.

The Globe Theatre burned to the ground on June 29, 1613. Did any new play of Shakespeare’s, not yet in quarto publication, perhaps burn with it?

Albert Camus, on the one occasion when he was introduced to William Faulkner: The man did not say three words to me.

Nietzsche died after a sequence of strokes. But his final illness, and his madness, were almost surely the result of syphilis.

W. H. Auden was once arrested for urinating in a public park in Barcelona.

Frans Hals was once arrested for beating his wife.

Plotless. Characterless.

Yet seducing the reader into turning pages nonetheless.

No one was injured in the Globe Theatre calamity. One man’s breeches were set on fire, but it is on record that the flames were quenched with a tankard of ale.

When Dickens shocked Victorian London by separating from his wife, it was Thackeray who let slip that it was over an actress. Dickens did not speak to him for years.

Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon.

George Santayana, reading Moby Dick: In spite of much skipping, I have got stuck in the middle.

Thales of Miletus died at his seat while watching an athletic contest.

But I knew that Monsieur Beyle quite well, and you will never convince me that a trifler like him could have written masterpieces. Said Sainte-Beuve.

Actionless, Writer wants it.

Which is to say, with no sequence of events.

Which is to say, with no indicated passage of time.

Then again, getting somewhere in spite of this.

The old wives’ tale, repeated by Socrates, that Thales was also frequently so preoccupied with gazing up at the stars that he once tumbled into a well. And was even laughed at by washerwomen.

Jack Donne, the young John Donne was commonly called.

Oedipus gouges out his eyes, Jocasta hangs herself, both guiltless; the play has come to a harmonious conclusion. Wrote Schiller.

Verdi died of a stroke.

Puccini died of throat cancer.

Indeed, with a beginning, a middle, and an end.

Even with a note of sadness at the end.

What porridge had John Keats? Asked Browning.

What is the use of being kind to a poor man? Asked Cicero.

Bertrand Russell was so inept, physically, that he could never learn to make a pot of tea. Immanuel Kant could not manage to sharpen a quill pen with a penknife. John Stuart Mill could barely tie a simple knot.

The sixth-century legend that St. Luke was a painter. And did a portrait of the Virgin Mary.

Tartini’s violin. Which shattered in its case at his death.

Insistently, Brahms wore his pants too short. Sometimes actually taking a scissors to the bottoms.

A novel with no setting.

With no so-called furniture.

Ergo meaning finally without descriptions.

André Gide died of a disease of the lungs. Rereading the Aeneid on his deathbed.

It was while they were making copies of the Masaccio frescoes in the Santa Maria del Carmine as young apprentices that Michelangelo criticized the draftsmanship of Pietro Torrigiano: Bone and cartilage went down like biscuit, Torrigiano would later tell Benvenuto Cellini. Re Michelangelo’s nose.

The greatest genius of our century, Goethe called Byron. The greatest genius of our century, Byron called Goethe.

Ivan Turgenev, at nineteen, during a shipboard fire: Save me! I am my mother’s only son!

Catullus, who loved a woman he called Lesbia, but whose real name may have been Clodia. Propertius, who loved a woman he called Cynthia, but whose real name may have been Hostia. Both, two full thousand years ago.

Gustav Mahler died of endocarditis.

Louis-Ferdinand Céline died of a brain aneurism.

A novel with no overriding central motivations, Writer wants.

Hence with no conflicts and/or confrontations, similarly.

Rudolph Kreutzer never performed the Kreutzer Sonata.

One of the ennobling delights of Paradise, as promised by Thomas Aquinas: Viewing the condemned as they are tortured and broiled below.

The friendship of Samuel Beckett and Alberto Giacometti.

Richard Strauss: Why do you have to write this way? You have talent. Paul Hindemith: Herr Professor, you make your music and I’ll make mine.

Porto d’Ercole. Where Caravaggio died. Most probably of malaria. In a tavern.

Georgia O’Keeffe died blind.

I saw Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, played, but now the old plays begin to disgust this refined age. Says John Evelyn’s Diary for November 26, 1661.

With no social themes, i. e., no pictures of society.

No depiction of contemporary manners and/or morals.

Categorically, with no politics.

Vulgar and dull, Ruskin dismissed Rembrandt as. Brother to Dostoievsky, Malraux called him.

For whatever reason, Jean Sibelius did not write a note in the last thirty years of his life.

Kierkegaard died of a lung infection. Or a disease of the spine.

Karl Barth’s surmise: That while the angels may play only Bach in praising God, among themselves they play Mozart.

Theophrastus pronounced that flute music could cure sciatica. Not to mention epilepsy.

Alexander Pope died of dropsy.

John Milton died of gout.

Theophrastus said flute music would have cured that, also.

No one ever painted a woman’s backside better than Boucher, said Renoir.

A novel entirely without symbols.

Robert of Naples: Giotto, if I were you, in this hot weather I would leave off painting for a while. Giotto: So would I, assuredly—if I were you.

Matthew Arnold died of a heart attack while running for a streetcar in Liverpool.

Among Dickens’ children: Alfred Tennyson Dickens. Henry Fielding Dickens. Edward Bulwer-Lytton Dickens. Walter Landor Dickens. Sydney Smith Dickens.

Among Walt Whitman’s brothers: George Washington Whitman. Andrew Jackson Whitman. Thomas Jefferson Whitman.

Elizabeth I, visiting Cambridge University, delivered a lecture in Greek. And then chatted less formally with students in Latin.

Thomas Mann died of phlebitis.

The likelihood that Anne Hathaway could not read.

Anne Hathaway.

The perhaps less than idle speculation that Columbus was a Jew.

Space is blue and birds fly through it. Said Werner Heisenberg.

Ultimately, a work of art without even a subject, Writer wants.

There is no work of art without a subject, said Ortega.

A novel tells a story, said E. M. Forster.

If you can do it, it ain’t bragging, said Dizzy Dean.

Xenocrates died after stumbling into a brass pot in the dark and cracking his skull.

Brunelleschi had a temporary restaurant and wine shop constructed in the highest reaches of the Florence cathedral while building his great cupola—so his workmen did not have to negotiate all that distance for lunch.

Maxim Gorky died of tuberculosis.

Or was he ordered murdered by Stalin?

Baudelaire died after being paralyzed and deprived of speech by syphilis.

I was tired and ill. I stood looking out across the fjord. The sun was setting. The clouds were colored red. Like blood. I felt as though a scream went through nature. Said Edvard Munch.

Can only have been painted by a madman. Said Munch of the same canvas.

Pico della Mirandola, not yet thirty-one, died of an unidentified fever.

William Butler Yeats died of heart failure.

The day of his death was a dark cold day.

Leigh Hunt once saw Charles Lamb kiss Chapman’s Homer. Henry Crabb Robinson once saw Coleridge kiss a Spinoza.

Lamb was in fact known to pretend surprise that people did not say grace before reading.

Horse Cave Creek, Ohio, Ambrose Bierce was born in.

Giorgione probably died of plague.

Ninon de Lenclos.

The solitary, melancholy life of Matthias Grünewald. Was he wholly sane?

Is Writer, thinking he can bring off what he has in mind?

And anticipating that he will have any readers?
—-

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** Ferdinand, Hi. Sorry, I haven’t given your piece my full brain yet. I had a last minute deadline hit me, but I will. Thanks about the gif thing. That was just a simple toss off, but I’m into the medium for sure. ** David Ehrenstein, Thank you for the very kind words, sir. And ‘TMS’ and ‘PGL’ are probably my favorite things I’ve made, plus maybe ‘ZDB’, so that makes me happy. xo. ** Tosh Berman, Hi, Tosh. Thanks, man. I’m very appreciative of Diarmuid’s book in all respects plus that it exists at all. My read on my work is just that, and I have zero interest in writing any kind of autobio/memoir kind of thing — even though ‘I Wished’ is very me and about me — so I’m just interested to see what people think about what I do whether it aligns with my intentions or not. I appreciate you using your barely caffeined mind to be here. It’s interesting: in my writing back and forth and Zooming with US friends, those based in LA seem the most hard hit and suffering under the pandemic, and I think about why that would be a lot, and the answer is ever-formulating but quite fascinating. And sad, unfair, painful to watch and feel. You putting a new book together and writing is clearly the rich way to get through this. I’m happy to hear it, T. ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi, Ben. Bracing: I think that’s kind of the most I hoped for. Same in the US: the election and etc. has revealed disturbing new interior lives of people and turned many against each other. I’ve had to rethink a number of acquaintanceships of mine. It’s a telling and very unpretty time. ** JM, Hi. That is really lucky. I had the huge luck of growing up in LA at a time when there were two incredible film series dedicated to experimental film. Discovering and getting to concentrate on that work as a teen literally shaped me as a person and artist in a vast way. I saw an email from you! Thank you, thank you. I’m excited to get into it and put it up. Have a great, great one. ** G, Thanks, pal. I was kind of imagining that all of the explosions were repeats of the bottom one but with its star getting blown into tinier and tinier bits over and over. Happy Friday. ** Steve Erickson, It won’t surprise you, I’m sure, that I know about that doc and am anxiously awaiting the opportunity to see it. I did a post about the park that doc is about here ages ago, which also won’t surprise you either. Thanks for the heads-up and your thoughts. ** Okay. Today I’m directing you at another book, this time the great and seminal ‘po-mo’ classic ‘This Is Not a Novel’ by the general maestro scribe David Markson. If you don’t already know it, I’m very pleased to make the introduction. See you tomorrow.