Archive for March, 2012

I Want To Do This

March 12, 2012

Buuuuuut it’s in ORLANDO.

 

JACK KEROUAC WRITER-IN-RESIDENCE PROJECT

Location Orlando, FL. Provides four residencies a year to writers of any stripe or age, living anywhere in the world. Each residency  consists of approximately a three-month stay in the cottage where Jack Kerouac wrote his novel Dharma Bums. Utilities and a food stipend of $800 are included. Entry fee: $25. Deadline March 31, 2012.

Random Thoughts: Sunday Blues Edition

March 11, 2012

1. I resent the nice weather for making me feel bad about doing nothing today.

2. A good insult to someone you’ve recently met would be: “I wish I could write off my impression of you as a douche bag as an  uneducated judgment on my part, but unfortunately, I’m pretty sure I’m right.”

3. If suicide is cowardly, why, when someone manages to do it, do they call him/her “successful”?

What I’m Doing Over the Weekend

March 9, 2012

… a la a lot of nauseatingly cute lifestyle blogs that focus on pics taken on iPhones, recipes for organic homemade pinatas, and other examples-of-why-the-blogger-is-better-than-you-are.  (A curious many of said blogs, I’ve realized as of late, are written by Mormons?)

DISCLAIMER: I may actually do none of this shit and instead sit on my ass and think about pizza.

Saturday:

Wake up

Take much-needed shower

Eat an enormous brunch, preferably involving eggs

Go visit the Armory Show (see below)

To quote Frank McCourt, "Tis."

Play, and win, at ping pong

Convince boyfriend to go out for a nice Mediterranean dinner

” ” to dance at the local dive, described by one reviewer as “Cleveland circa 1973″

” ” to give me piggyback home

Sleep

Sunday:

Wake up

Eat bagels

See boyfriend off

Mope about boyfriend’s departure

Read, with a strange glee, The Leftovers, which is about inconsolable loss, cults, and broken marriages

Decide which of two sad movies will be better to combat Sunday Blues: the one described as “tightly structured” and “compelling” or the one described as “a terrifying, delirious exercise.”

Finish letter to Marina Abramovic (mum’s the word on this, for the moment.)

Finish The Leftovers

Sleep

Have nightmares.

Self-Mutilation With Pearls

March 8, 2012

This beautiful picture of models in the recent Chanel show…

They also make pearl bobby pins (Chanel does, that is) and you should buy them for me.

Reminds me of a favorite story of mine, that I once posted here… an excerpt, for your continued enjoyment:

I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but we’d had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back I figured she’d be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when she walked in and sat down next to me.

“Well, bastard, I see you’ve come back.”

I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into her face.

“God damn you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?”

“No, it’s the fad, you fool.”

“You’re crazy.”

(Charles Bukowski)

So Of Course

March 7, 2012

When websites or hotline numbers are mentioned in works of fiction, I tend to call them, particularly after a few years ago when I called a 1-800 number offered up by a faux-Oceanic Airlines commercial during Lost and there WAS A RECORDING AND I FELT LIKE I WAS ACTUALLY PART OF THE MYSTERY, so yesterday I visited http://www.guiltyremnant.com and emailed join@guiltyremnant.com, and got this response:

—-

from: join@guiltyremnant.com

to: itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com

dateTue, Mar 6, 2012 at 2:37 PM

subject[Auto-Reply] I am interested in joining

hide details Mar 6 (1 day ago)

Dear So and So,

Thank you for your interest in the Guilty Remnant. If you’d like to know more about our organization, you should read The Leftovers, by Tom Perrotta. For a closer look at our community, feel free to drop by our compound, located on Gingko Street in Mapleton. Guided tours and overnight visits are available by reservation. And don’t worry: There’s always room for one more.

Join the Guilty Remnant. Belong to the New World.

Sincerely,

G.R. Staff

I don’t want to say I BLAME Tom Perrotta for this, but I just wish the mystery were more comprehensive and nefarious.  Sigh.  At least I have a desk, and an office, and my health.  Boring.

I Am Resorting to Reblogging

March 7, 2012

I don’t like reblogging but there’s some original shit I want to say and based on my personal method-in-madness idea of aesthetics, it’s time for an image!  I want this piece (despite its being overpriced)/wish I had thought of it first.

It says, "The entire life of this pen." Seriously, though, this is a piece I wish I had made. I just love scribbling for hours on end.

First World Problems

March 7, 2012

“Wait, did I purposely procrastinate getting my recommendation forms ready for my application to volunteer at Sunshine Camp for Poor Amputee Babies because I really wanted to spend all my vacation days at the beach with my boyfriend?  Does the fact that I won’t be playing with toddler burn victims this summer mean I’m a bad person, or does the fact that I made the effort in the first place mean I’m better than most people are?  … wait, does the fact that I’m imagining self-worth as a graduated and competitive system mean I’m a  bitch who is only concerned about what I do relative to what other people do, or just a realist who sees that altruism is never a pure and untainted act? … wait…”

Sometimes, you just have to laugh at yourself and say, “Fuck the kids!  CABO!”

Groups I’d Like to Join

March 6, 2012

“You started seeing them around town the following autumn, people in white clothing, traveling in same-sex pairs, always smoking.  Laurie recognized a few of them –– Barbara Santangelo, whose son was in her daughter’s class; Marty Powers, who used to play softball with her husband, and whose wife was taken in the Rapture, or whatever it was.  Mostly they ignored you, but sometimes they followed you around as if they were private detectives hired to keep track of your movements.  If you said hello, they just gave you a blank look, but if you asked a more substantive question, they handed over a business card printed on one side with the following message:

WE ARE MEMBERS OF THE GUILTY REMNANT.  WE HAVE TAKEN A VOW OF SILENCE.  WE STAND BEFORE YOU AS LIVING REMINDERS OF GOD’S AWESOME POWER.  HIS JUDGMENT IS UPON US.

“In smaller type, on the other side of the card, was a Web address you could consult for more information: http://www.guiltyremnant.com.

“… Laurie had read an article about the Guilty Remnant in the local paper, so she knew that there were at least sixty people living in their ‘compound’ on Gingko Street, an eight-house subdivision that had been deeded to the organization by the developer, a wealthy man named Troy Vincent, who was now living there as an ordinary member, with no special privileges.”

~ Tom Perrotta, The Leftovers

My only question, though, is can I keep my white veil in accordance with my membership in the Union of Hideously and Improbably Deformed?  Can I break my vow of silence to speak in my UHID group sessions?

“Happy” Monday

March 5, 2012

This gives me joy in the same way that a missive from a someecard my friend once sent me did –– the card read, “When work sucks, just remember that some day you will die.”  So nice to remember there’s a light at the end of this tunnel.

Euthanasia Coaster by Julijonas Urbonas

The Euthanasia Coaster is a roller coaster designed to kill you.  From Urbonas’ website/mission statement:

“Euthanasia Coaster” is a hypothetic euthanasia machine in the form of a roller coaster, engineered to humanely – with elegance and euphoria – take the life of a human being. Riding the coaster’s track, the rider is subjected to a series of intensive motion elements that induce various unique experiences: from euphoria to thrill, and from tunnel vision to loss of consciousness, and, eventually, death. Thanks to the marriage of the advanced cross-disciplinary research in space medicine, mechanical engineering, material technologies and, of course, gravity, the fatal journey is made pleasing, elegant and meaningful. Celebrating the limits of the human body but also the liberation from the horizontal life, this ‘kinetic sculpture’ is in fact the ultimate roller coaster: John Allen, former president of the famed Philadelphia Toboggan Company, once sad that “the ultimate roller coaster is built when you send out twenty-four people and they all come back dead. This could be done, you know.”

On the website, it has a very interesting hypothetical play-by-play of what a rider would experience, along with a great interview with the inventor.

Wee!

My favorite:

Question: Do you really believe it’s more humane, say, than a lethal injection? 

Answer: First of all, we need to clarify what do we mean by saying “humane” as there is quite a myriad ways of understanding it. Of course, the key description might be something which is painless, pleasant, basically referring to some kind or level of pleasure. But the human being is a cultural being and therefore, in my opinion, we have also refer this term to dignity, compassion, benevolence and meaningfulness. The latter is exactly what a lethal injection lacks. It is highly hospitalised and not much different from a mundane injection of medicine. There is no special ritual nor death is given special meaning except that of the legal procedures and psychological preparation. It is like death is divorced from our cultural life as much as the death rituals in our secular and postmodern Western society. But if it is already legal, why not to make it more meaningful, not in a way the aboriginals mourn the deceased by ecstatic singing and dancing around a bonfire, for example, but as a ritual adapted to the contemporary world where churches and shrines are being replaced by theme parks or at least achieving the equal power of producing spiritual effects (more and more people attend theme parks for self-meliorative purposes — relaxation, self-cultivation, socialisation). This is, of course, a food for thought.

It has been observed that the jumpers, people who commit suicide by falling to the ground, often demonstrate some sort of aesthetic preference for a nice place or structure to kill themselves, for example, by traveling long distances for that, but also performing some forms of rituals such as folding their clothes neatly before the jump or holding a hat on the head with both hands all the way down. What’s more, sometimes the jumpers fall undressed or perform some choreography — it seems that they care about how their bodies meet the air. All this testifies that self-murderers are not apathetic in relation to the ritual of killing themselves, and seek some sort of aesthetic meaning in it.

My coworker and I are going to get tattoos of this shape.

In fact, falling is a unique experience that sets itself apart from other types of death: while rushing towards the ground or, in the case of the Euthanasia Coaster, towards the loop, knowing and anticipating with the whole body the exact time of death, there is still a fraction of time for reflection. Its real-time interface and inherent dramatic structure — the leap, the fall, the impact — a three act tragedy, are not present in lethal injection, shooting yourself or in overdosing on drugs, for example. Pull the trigger and you receive the shot — there is no gap between the act and its result, while with lethal injection or overdose there is an unknown time interval. In the Euthanasia Coaster the ritualistic drama is exaggerated even more: there is a lift up the tower, the drop, the serpentine fall, the vertiginous and euphoric entry to a series of the loops, and, eventually the fatal ride within the loop. Moreover, another unique thing is that this dramatic spectacle is open to the public, be it the relatives of the rider or the victims of the sentenced to capital punishment, revealing the full drama of their demise. Given all that, the coaster incorporates the private and public aesthetics of a humane and meaningful death: for the faller it is a painless, whole-body engaging and ritualised death machine, for the observers — a monumental mourning machine.

SO CLOSE TO THE END OF FRIDAY OMG OMG OMG

March 2, 2012

Someone find a way for me to see PEGGY AND FRED IN HELL!