My boss is being interviewed by the New York Times right now, and the writer, RB, just said that he once went on assignment with a writer colleague to Brazil to find Mengele’s bones! Aw hell naw!
Archive for October, 2009
Macabre Little Errand!
October 20, 2009Questionnaire
October 19, 2009My roommate’s birthday was a little while ago, and so I wrote her a Questionnaire/Poem, because she told me once she used to write them for herself when she was a child and fill them out. It’s sort of fun! Send your answers back to me and I will respond with an essay (minimum three pages) detailing your psychological make-up, sexual proclivities and chances of dying in a natural disaster.
For L, On Her Twenty-Sixth Birthday
A little poem/game I like to call
A or B
Please circle one of the following:
1. black or white
2. day or night
3. up or down
4. chocolate or vanilla
5. fiction or nonfiction
6. early or late
7. fur or leather
8. hot or cold
9. empty or full
10. the chicken or the egg
11. my way or the highway
12. walk or talk
13. big or little
14. Ben Affleck or Matt Damon
15. city mouse or country mouse
16. fat or thin
17. whiskey or rum
18. the long or short of it
19. diamonds or pearls
20. spring or summer
21. stop or go
22. nurture or nature
23. left or right
24. DVD or VHS
25. sweet or salty
26. life or death
27. rock or hard place
28. same or different
29. French or Spanish
30. top or bottom
31. bed or breakfast
32. winter or fall
33. child or adult
34. apple or orange
35. World War I or World War II
36. Chinese or Japanese
37. rich or poor
38. east or west
39. fork or spoon
40. crossword or Sudoko
41. haiku or epic
42. oil or watercolors
43. salt or pepper
44. coffee or tea
45. cash or credit
46. burial or cremation
47. meth or crack
48. in the body or attachment
49. work or play
50. book or movie
51. silver or gold
52. silence or noise
53. crazy or sane
54. round or square
55. feast or famine
56. war or peace
57. The Beatles or The Rolling Stones
58. Freud or Jung
59. laughter or tears
60. Yankees or Mets
61. ballet or modern dance
62. socialism or capitalism
63. style or substance
64. ocean or lake
65. baroque or modern
66. yourself or someone else
67. caterpillar or butterfly
68. blood or sweat
69. moon or sun
70. toasted or untoasted
71. religious or secular
72. butter or jelly
73. rhythm or blues
74. birds or bees
75. walk or bicycle
76. Los Angeles or New York
77. the past or the present
78. love or hate
79. slap or pinch
80. easy or difficult
81. gay or straight
82. water or wine
83. fingers or toes
84. shower or bath
85. Superman or Batman
86. stars or stripes
87. meat or potatoes
88. North Pole or South Pole
89. Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty
90. question or answer
91. dumb or dumber
92. taste or touch
93. can or bottle
94. dirty or clean
95. paper or plastic
96. tattoos or piercings
97. cook or delivery
98. grateful or dead
99. fate or chance
100. beginning or end?
Failure is Exciting!
October 19, 2009So I actually got a rejection letter from The New Yorker! I feel kind of fortunate, as their website specifies…
“Although we do read all submissions, we cannot respond to them individually or return them.”
And yet!
“Dear ID,
We’re sorry to say that your piece wasn’t right for us, despite its evident merit and humor. Thank you for allowing us the opportunity to consider your work.
Best regards,
The Shouts Dept.”
And you know what? I think they’re being HONEST! It is fucking humorous and displays merit, but it’s a love letter to a heartthrob actor, so not really their audience. Perhaps if it was a love letter to (one of) my intellectual soulmate(s)???

I Luv GWS Trow!
The Tao says, PS, “Accept great misfortune as your own self.”
Something…
October 18, 2009sad?
“I have heard that staring is a predator’s first weapon…
“A moth saw a flame and thought what it saw was its heart and it said, “What is my heart doing over there, away from me?” And believing that it could not be whole without an organ it had never even used, the moth dove toward it, hoping to reabsorb it in open surgery, but instead there was a sound as empty as a lit match extinguished on water and in an instant the heart that had stood away from the moth became the central unimagined ecstasy the moth couldn’t live without…
“I pay you money so that we may share this kind of history…”
Thalia Field, A [three dots signifying “therefore”] I
Eerie
October 16, 2009There is something really eerie, Trow-ish about this question I was just asked when purchasing movie tickets online…
A portion of Brown Paper Tickets profits is given back to the communities we serve. You can help decide where the money from this sale goes by choosing a recipient category.
This sale should benefit:
A) Animals
B) Children
C) Environment
D) Human Rights
Why does this frighten me so!?!?
JACKPOT!
October 14, 2009I’m an unabashed Francophile, btw…
BA: I have a boyfriend for you
He is two
He is French and he loves to scream, “DON’T TOUCH ME!”
and he is the grandson of a former French president
ID: YES!
BA: french aristocratic baby soulmate

Be Still My Heart!
October 14, 2009“Thought Problem”
by Vijay Seshadri
The New Yorker, October 12, 2009
How strange would it be if you met yourself on the street?
How strange if you liked yourself,
took yourself in your arms, married your own self,
propagated by techniques known only to you,
and then populated the world? Replicas of you are everywhere.
Some are Arabs. Some are Jews. Some live in yurts. It is
an abomination, but better that your
sweet and scrupulously neat self
emerges at many points on the earth to watch the horned moon rise
than all those dolts out there,
turning into pillars of salt wherever we look.
If we have to have people, let them be you,
spritzing your geraniums, driving yourself to the haberdashery,
killing your supper with a blowgun.
Yes, only in the forest do you feel at peace,
up in the branches and down in the terrific gorges,
but you’ve seen through everything else.
You’ve fled in terror across the frozen lake,
you’ve found yourself in the sand, the palace,
the prison, the dockside stews;
and long ago, on this same planet, you came home
to an empty house, poured a Scotch-and-soda,
and sat in a recliner in the unlit rumpus room,
puzzled at what became of you.
Words Of Which I Always Forget the Meanings
October 14, 2009…or get oh-so-slightly wrong.
Tautology
Teleology
Scatalogical
Trope
Apotheosis
Apotheopesis
Apostate
Apostolic
Polity
Pedagogy
Do They Offer Scholarships?
October 13, 2009I kind of have a thing for kitschy psych schools of the seventies…kitschy is so not the right word here but humor me.

The Original!
“A thirty-year-old man, whom I shall call Gary Hillard, was relating with great feeling how his parents had always criticized him, had never loved him, and had generally messed up his life. I urged him to call out for them; he demurred. He “knew” that they didn’t love him, so what was the point? I asked him to indulge my whim. Halfheartedly, he started calling for Mommy and Daddy. Soon I noticed he was breathing faster and deeper. His calling turned into an involuntary act that led to writhing, near-convulsions, and finally to a scream.
“Both of us were shocked. What I had believed was an accident, an idiosyncratic reaction of one patient, had just been repeated in almost identical fashion.
“Afterward, when he quieted down, Gary was flooded with insights. He told me that his whole life seemed to have suddenly fallen into place. This ordinarily unsophisticated man began transforming himself in front of my eyes into what was virtually another human being. He became alert; his sensorium opened up; he seemed to understand himself.
“Because of the similarities of the two reactions, I began listening even more carefully to the tapes I had made of Danny’s and Gary’s sessions. I tried to analyze what common factors or techniques produced the reactions. Slowly some meaning began to emerge. Over the next months I tried various modifications and approaches in asking the patient to call for his parents. Each time there occurred the same dramatic results.
“I have come to regard that scream as the product of central and universal pains which reside in all neurotics. I call them Primal Pains because they are the original, early hurts upon which all later neurosis is built. It is my contention that these pains exist in every neurotic each minute of his later life, irrespective of the form of his neurosis. These pains often are not consciously felt because they are diffused throughout the entire system where they affect body organs, muscles, the blood and lymph system and, finally, the distorted way we behave.
“Primal Therapy is aimed at eradicating these pains. It is revolutionary because it involves overthrowing the neurotic system by a forceful upheaval. Nothing short of that will eliminate neurosis, in my opinion.
“Primal Theory is an outgrowth of my observations about why specific changes take place. Theory, I must emphasize, did not precede clinical experience. When I watched Danny and Gary writhing on the floor in the throes of Primal Pain, I had no idea what to call it. The theory has been expanded and deepened by the continuing reports of one patient after another who has been cured of neurosis. This book is an invitation to explore the revolution they began.”
– from The Primal Scream by Dr. Arthur Janov, 1970
In My Next Life…
October 12, 2009
I want to be a goldfish!