Wildlife
I have either finished turning invisible or the local wildlife considers me as threatening as Jane Jetson. The wild things are taking advantage of our slipping sense of surrounding and are slowly, yet steadily organizing. I present three instances for your examination. (And although some of you will not detect acts of duplicity in these seemingly random events, I say that is what they want us to believe.)
Case One: Deer are abundant in my neighborhood and I have been able to get within a few feet of many without causing concern. Two weeks ago this development was underscored by my brief employment as a Deer Crossing Guard. A Mother Deer and her twin Fawns were looking to cross a nearby street that runs between one wooded area to another. It was a Saturday and I usually go for a long walk on off days. Unlike people, they saw me but wanted to cross the street more than scurry off. A car was coming and I stepped into the road and put my hand up to stop the driver and allowed the Deer to cross. This involved two miracles, the driver actually saw me and stopped and the three Deer crossed in an orderly fashion even though Deer are not noted for being successful pedestrians. Usually something goes sideways in projects that involve me, but this one worked out perfectly. The driver did honk at me and may have given me the finger as she passed. But I do not take people who do such things from the safety of a car or in numbers seriously. Only people who risk a punch in the face on even, or better, disadvantaged grounds are serious people. The rest deserve to be Cattle. Now that Deer understand crossing the street, they will tell the Possums and perhaps get word to the distant Hedgehogs.
Case Two: The very next day another critter seeking a good deed (or was experimenting on me) made himself known as I entered the laundry room. I heard a familiar meow on the other side of the door in which the hot water heater is stored.
“Not again,” I sighed. “Damn… be right back.” I returned with a Phillips screwdriver. The door is always locked but there is a vent at the foot held in with screws. I undid the thing and Andy the Feral Cat zoomed out of the closet and out of the laundry room without pausing to say hi. I replaced the vent and located Andy on the porch. I fed him and did not say anything about what happened (as Shakespeare would say that would have led to a “bootless inquisition”; a fancy way to blow off a perfectly reasonable question). Anyway that’s just how Andy rolls; I am on a need to know basis. Still, this was the third time I’ve had to spring him from the same predicament over the years. I figure that he gets in via a route under the building because the one time I saw inside the water heater closet, it had no real walls and was a part of the building’s basement. That makes much more sense than anything else–since Andy is a thumbless being and antisocial thus unlikely to follow the maintenance man around. I once wondered aloud why he didn’t go back the way he came in, but, according to Andy, that was not information accessible by my pay grade (further bootless inquiry). I’m considering hiding a Phillps down there to cut down on trips back to my apartment.
Case Three: A few days later I witnessed an act that proves Raccoons might be the brains behind the coup. Down the road from my place stands a Catholic Housing Center–five storeys. A tall poplar grows beside it, only a foot away from the wall. On my way to work I saw a line of Raccoons, five maybe six going up the tree and getting off at the flat roof of the building. Then I saw two others coming down (Raccoons climb down head first). There’s a half wall high railing up there that they disappear behind. One peeked over, saw me and made eye contact.
“Your secret is safe, master,” I whispered.
I was not born late enough to have what appears to be a biological imperative to gaze into my phone every minute, every day. I look at it plenty, perhaps too much, but when I’m outside I prefer to see what’s happening below the normal sightline. Since I’m over sixty, I bank on the fact that no one takes me seriously. That comes in handy when I tell all that the Animals are organizing, perhaps against us. I am an Animal Collaborator. And I suggest that everyone should join the cause before it is too late.
Six Pack of Goodness
This week featured six new pieces that will always be accessible in the LS vault. Six because the amazing Dale Williams Barrigar led off with what is best (for me) described as a “fictional essay” this Sunday past called Visiting Bill Burroughs. As Mick Bloor excels in shining a lantern into nooks of history and places that need to be looked at by all, Dale writes incisive prose about creators that adds a new dimension and a fresh viewpoint about familiar artists, and in this one he took the excellent “gonzo” approach of entering the tale itself. Neil Young said that junkies are like the setting sun; well old Burroughs must have been the junky (WSB’s spelling) of the midnight sun; shining long and setting late.
Nevermind by Matt Liebowitz is a tense bit of work involving the fear of being exposed even though you have nothing to be ashamed of. High school is definitely a stressful time for the development of self identity and the certainty that no one has ever felt the same way before. Matt writes about these points in an artful manner that is underscored beautifully with the suffering of Kurt Cobain.
Geraint Jonathan debuted on Tuesday with The Fleurnoir I Knew. This succinct work shows how personalities can become trapped by their own press. And that a person famous for a certain type of behavior must continue to play the part of his or her own self; an odd damnation, like that suffered/attained by Marilyn Monroe. Geraint’s style is extremely polished and a perfect fit for this combination of whimsy and lament.
Savannah Oldham changed the pace on Wednesday with Final Transmission. Although it is set in space and at a distance that immediate communication is no longer possible, she still managed to get across a personal and moving story, without a trace of sentimentality. Savannah is a young writer; it’s always encouraging to see new writers who understand that creating art will always be a human act, and that those who would have AI do such are guilty of a stunning lack of imagination and courage.
Only a writer as talented as Antony Osgood could pull off Thursday’s story On Monday Nothing Seemed Out of Place. It is Tony’s fourteenth site appearance, and this blend of realism, fancy and flat out magic form a universe of its own that swirls and dances with an otherwise “normal” backdrop. More of a Primary Colors Monday than a Blue one.
On the surface, Chrome and Marrow by our fourth debut author, Maudie Bryant might seem speculative. But there’s ample proof that our relationship with Nature needs repairing before it is too late (it might already be). Regardless, no matter what we do or fail to do the machine of the ecosystem is self correcting. And we should hope that Nature doesn’t decide to fix things with aggressive Yellow Jackets the size of Donkeys. Intriguing and relevant.
And now we close with…
Pie-eyed Peety‘s Halloween 80’s Scare-o-thon
According to my imaginary pal Pie-Eyed Peety the PDQ Pilsner Pigeon (an expert on 80’s popcorn films and slobcoms–and a cousin of Elliot who appears in my wrap headers), the 80’s was the second golden age of horror. I now present his Halloween watch list. Peety’s only regret is using preservatives (bonus points for remembering who said that line and in which film). Always room for one more in the end.
- Motel Hell (Like most on this list, best viewed when intoxicated)
- An American Werewolf in London (fun to watch Griffin Dunne get progressively gamier every time he comes back to encourage his friend to eat a “silver bullet”–which, by the way, is the name of a film that almost made the cut)
- The Lost Boys (mulleted Coreys up the ying-yang–a sort of Celebrity Rehab preview)
- Chopping Mall (Best viewed on an empty stomach and eyes shut)
- Maximum Overdrive (infamous for being directed by coked out of his skull Stephen King. Excruciatingly dull despite all the explosions)
- Creepshow (Steve had an acting role in this gem; Oscar snub, but the Razzies appreciated his work)
- Beetlejuice (one of maybe three films on this list that has redeeming value)
- Pumpkin Head (“you kidz bettuh be-weh o’ punkin haid”)
- Near Dark (Peety got this one from Hugh)
- The final Boo is up to you…
Although the clip is not Halloween based, it is always nice to bring back someone from a time in her life that (I hope) was happier than it was at the end.
And a late addition to the post—made forty-five minutes prior to publication: Happy 56th to Diane and Ian.
Leila
literally stories 
Good post and roundup of stories. I love the animal anecdotes. Please sign me on as a fellow Collaborator. I wasn’t aware of either renditions in the videos. They’re moving to say the least. To the list I’d add Jaws. Not a traditional Halloween horror film, but scary as hell. I also remember being frightened, in the good way, by the original Halloween with Jamie Lee Curtis.
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Thank you David!
I accidentally kicked someone’s popcorn over when I saw Meyers get up the first time at the theater. Such a cliche now, but really effective if you haven’t seen it before. Like the old one when someone harmless taps a shoulder during a scary scene.
The Animals will be merciful leaders.
Leila
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awww thank you 😊 and with one of our favourite tracks.x. I can’t do horror films. The start of Quatermass And the Pit used to send me behind the couch. I did watch Beetlejuice and survived. I watched The Exorcist by force because I was bar maid at the time and they put it on in the pub. You can only spend limited time pretending to tidy the bottles on the back of the bar. It haunted me for months. Another great post and please tell the critters I’m 100% on their side. Thanks – dd
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Thank you and happy anniversary once more!
The scene where the kid comes down the stairs like a weird spider did that film in for me when I first saw it.
Leila
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Leila, I wrote more about your fiction work under Leave A Comment instead of Reply, just want 2 make sure you see it whenever you get a chance. Thanks, D
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Thank you Dale
I look forward to reading it. I try to catch up my correspondences on the weekend.
Thank you again!
Leila
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Leila’s Totem Quest
Our betters, who sought animal totems to protect them though life, went on quests to find the perfect animal spirit, somewhat like a guardian angel or patron saint, only more reliable.
Looks like you have a choice: The Deer. The Cat. The Raccoon. You also mentioned possums and distant hedgehogs (far away or introverted?), although the first three seemed to have invited you specifically.
What’s it going to be? I’m a rat guy, myself. I had little choice, coming from NYC.
Sinead took me to the brink. Always does. Thanks.
Gerry
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Thank you Gerry
I am owned by Cats, but they would rent me out.
Oddly, no Hedgehogs around the Puget Sound; very few Chipmunks either.
Sineade was definitely up and down. Some are doomed seemingly from the beginning.
Thank you again!
Leila
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Dear Leila
If everyone became an Animal Collaborator, the world’s problems would be solved overnight, as so many folks would not only start doing what they should be doing, they would also STOP doing all the other things that are causing the problems. Your stories about walks around your neighborhood are as relevant and fun as the poems of Dickinson and Whitman, or the essays of Thoreau.
I’ve been seeing a lot of big deer hanging out with little deer here in Illinois lately. The forest preserves I usually walk my 3 dogs in are all smack-dab in the middle of some of the most populated suburbs in the Midwest, but the green spaces are large enough that you can literally get lost in them if you don’t know where you’re going. The other day I saw a herd of at least 20 white-tailed deer all running in line, disappearing into the forest. While watching them in amazement, I was also busy holding back 2 Siberian Huskies and 1 pit bull. Bandit, the pit bull, ain’t so interested in chasing deer like the other 2, Boo and Colonel, but she’s willing to join in if given the chance. Siberian Huskies are able to survive in the wild, just like the wolf or the coyote. Had I let them off their leashes, which I never do, they would have taken off after the 20 deer and disappeared in the forest for who knows how long. One time I spent an hour looking for Boo in the woods after he slipped out of his harness to go after the deer, which he didn’t catch. I was panicked beyond belief, he thought it was all a huge joke.
Siberian Huskies have been given the nickname of “Houdini” because they’re so good at escaping. They can sometimes literally do things that look like magic, like climb a ten-foot fence in under five seconds and fly down to the ground on the other side, unharmed, or fly through the air in a room and land on someone so lightly that they cause zero damage and start licking the person’s face. Pit bulls, more civilized, have some of the greatest dog personalities of all time. Their understanding of human vocabulary is amazing.
THANKS again for publishing my fictional essay “Visiting Bill Burroughs,” and for all the great stories this week, as usual! Your words about my work mean the world to me!
Dale
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Hi again Dale
I know a Siberian Husky named Nomo. My friend named him that because his personal catchphrase sounds like Nomo-whoa-nomo. Says it whenever he meets his many friends.
Dogs are fine fine people!
Leila
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Leila
Awesome!
Siberian Huskies don’t know much how to bark, although they can howl, growl, whine, mutter, mumble, and say a few words too, although the definitions so far are usually still pretty garbled. The howling, when they really get up to it, is wolf-like! If you play the harmonica for them they love to chime in, but not in the apartment or the neighbors will call the landlord!
Dale
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Leila
Thanks for the Sinead song. This is a great version, the restraint, build-up and suspense in this performance are amazing. She was a brave and serious artist, unfairly beat up on by the powers that be, like so many true artists are, sooner or later or always. Kristofferson’s song “Sister Sinead” is a great tribute. Kris was also the only one who rushed out on stage to defend her when she was booed at a Bob Dylan tribute concert because of her Saturday Night Live thing. There’s a film of the whole concert including the episode of him doing this. He yells at the crowd then puts his arm around her and leads her off stage. She was clearly traumatized by the booing.
Dale
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Hi Dale
Yes Kris came to her defense like the gentleman he must have been. I never understood all the hate she got for tearing up the picture. She didn’t aver violence and I thought it was actually quite tame — but she caught a shit storm.
Now I am certain that Sinead could be a royal pain like anyone else, but she caught way too much hell. She obviously suffered from severe emotional problems…but gee wasn’t everyone so nice when she died. I guess that’s fame for you.
Thank you again!
Leila
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Leila
MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH, 1989, produced by Roger Corman, is a good ’80s Halloween flick! (Bad but good, like some of Poe’s own fiction in that way.) I remember The Lost Boys very well from seeing it when it came out. I was taken with all the Jim Morrison references at the time.
I saw Leonard Cohen at the beginning of his final tour, 2008, Chicago Theater. A great show, and odd, because Harold Ramis was sitting two seats away from me, and Jerry Springer was sitting directly behind. The next day, I was at the Brookfield Zoo watching the lions when Harold Ramis walked up next to me and started watching the lions too. For a second I thought he was following me like a Ghostbuster. I also saw Cohen at the tail end of his final tour, in Milwaukee. No celebrity encounters at that show.
Dale
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Dale
That must have been an amazing show. I have watched a lot of Cohen’s concerts from that time on YouTube. Three hour shows by a man pushing 80 and with physical problems. Wonderful. Ha Jerry and Harold, that had to be something!
Leila
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Leila
The Ghostbusters encounters were almost as strange as the time I was in Manhattan waiting for a large black coffee. I felt someone step up in line behind me. I turned around, and looked up, to see Howard Stern standing there wearing a huge fur coat. The dude is tall. The only four words exchanged were, “What’s up!?” and “What’s up!?”
I’ve seen a lot of great ones in concert over the years, including the Grateful Dead many times, Dylan many times, Ray Charles, David Bowie, Tom Petty, Neil Young many times, Willie Nelson, The Highwaymen, Kristofferson, the Rolling Stones, and many younger acts in the Chicago area that are great but not so famous. They were all awesome, but perhaps the best shows I’ve ever seen, the most legendary, were Leonard Cohen when he was 74 and 79 years old, respectively. He did religious anthems that sounded like they were in Jerusalem 3000 years ago, told hilarious stories that had the audience laughing uproariously, sang from a crouching position with his hat over his eyes as if he were hiding, sometimes ran in place while singing for an entire song, and also re-made the lyrics for many of the songs, sometimes clearly improvising. At some points, he almost seemed to be levitating. And the man was almost 80 the last time. Such a shining example of how the second half of life can be just as good as, or better than, the first half! Wordsworth called it “compensation,” and it’s just as available to all of us as it was to him. He was only showing the way, in his own way. A great writer!
Thanks again, Leila!
Dale
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Dale
Lots of great performers hanging in there and are still great.
Judy Collins will return here next year, sixty years on the road. Willie Nelson is the true inspiration for that.
I read Leonard mangled his back prior to his last tour but toughed it out.
Leila
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Leila
Patti Smith is also still going strong, last time I checked. It was adorable when she got so shy in front of the Nobel committee while accepting the award for BD. She doesn’t only do music, also gives talks at colleges etc where she plays a little acoustic guitar and tells stories. She is legendary. Her 2004 album TRAMPIN’ is an absolute classic which is far too little known by the public at large. One of the most intelligent and literary rock and rollers of all time, up there with Jim Morrison, Pete Townshend, Dylan, and Cohen, which is why Dylan picked her to accept the prize. I believe he was saying (without saying it): “SHE DESERVES IT TOO.”
(Dylan says many things without actually saying them, just like Shakespeare.)
Dale
PS, I’m working on an essay about her.
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Just heard Patti singing Gloria this morning. I once saw a feature on WSB and she was at his house in Lawrence just hanging out and fiddling with a guitar!
Leila
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Animal cases 1,2,3 proved one enjoyable start to the evening. Good to see the Cohen too – that song 40 years old & still fresh.
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Thank you!
Yes it’s amazing how time speeds by. Cohen would be 90 this year.
Leila
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Yes to American Werewolf. The I can’t remember best werewolf movie tranformation, but it involved TV people and ended up with a woman changing and being shot by a colaborator on live TV. Help?
Batface (for his vampire appearance was our first and best) cat. Kitzhaber died in my arms close to the time that my sister did. Batface was involved in what appeared to be paranormal. I found two Batfaces eating. It took a while to notice one was a thinner interloper.
We have deer here, but are not particularly common. Our masked bandit story involved a racoon that invaded a meal we were cooking over a campfire.
Currently editor is arranging to mouse or mice in our house or hice removed.
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Hi Doug
I think that film was The Howling, which I saw paired with Body Snatchers (the Donald Sutherland remake) at a drive in sometime in the early eighties.
Thank you for coming by!
Leila
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Leila – Sound right. I’ll go to my goto IMDB to be sure.
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Yep, I reckon Leila is right with ‘The Howling’ – I think it stared Dee Baker or Black and Robert Vaughn???
Hope you are well Mr Doug!
Hugh
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Hugh – If you have any questions about the movie – IMDB.
Mr. Mirth
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Hugh – See IMDB. That was the first and best of series of Howling movies.
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Hi Leila,
Tremendous post as always!!
I like the idea of being un-threatening to wildlife. But I maybe a wee bit hypocritical as I eat some of them. Although, I couldn’t eat one I knew personally. A bit like killing a human – I know I could, but not those that I like. Fuck that is close to a confession – I will sign out with a non-de-plume! (Sp – I was shite at German!!)
Andy just wants you to do his bidding!
Raccoons, Sloths, Meercats, Tasmanian Devils, Pine Martins, Moles are all stunning wee beasties. I’ve not seen any of them in real life apart from a Mole (Dalmilling Golf Corse)
I adore watching ducks and deer. But regarding Bambi’s mum – Check out the film ‘Leave The World Behind’…What the fuck were they doing?? I reckon there was a metaphor there that I didn’t get (Like so many!!! I can spot them, but I don’t understand!!)
Ahh Horror Films – I could go on a bit but I’ll just go for three. Two from the 1980’s … Actually probably three!! – ‘Retribution’ and ‘Trick or treat’ and ‘The Omen Trilogy’
I love Sinead O’Connor and all of Mr Cohen’s work. Especially ‘Everybody Knows’ (Concrete Blonde did a brilliant version)
I see that Dave mentioned Jamie Lee Curtis – She never scared me…She did
other things!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dale’s mention of his Huskey’s makes me think on Starwars and Chewbacca (Sp??)
Lionel Fairwether.
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Hi Hugh
Ah yes, the nanny claiming “I do this for you Damien,” made me leap in my chair!
Would love to ship a Raccoon starter family to Scotland. We have similar climates and within a year you would have a significant population. Of all the wild animals they are the by far the brightest. Well them and the Crows. I have witnessed both species in the act of problem solving. They warrant special watching. Thanks again!
Leila
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Leila
Almost four decades ago when I worked for the forest preserve I got to play with twenty or so baby raccoons all at the same time. These critters were all being cared for by the wildlife center, and they let me in to check ’em out for a while. Their hands are like human hands! You’re right, they’re one of the best and brightest.
Dale
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Dale
I agree. Living near the sound I don’t think I have gone consecutive days without interacting with the little bandits. They remember faces and know I am good for bread, which they love almost as much as dry Cat food. Watching the little ones interact is great comedy. They also are the only species that I would call a neat eater–unless a sibling makes a grab for a pawful. I think that they and the Crows are as intelligent as many species of Dogs.
Take care!
Leila
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Dear Hugh,
Boo has seen Chewbacca on the small screen a few times: he always looks at him curiously.
Dale
PS,
He also likes to watch animal videos on tv, esp. wolves and coyotes, foxes, etc. Anything dog-related.
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Thanks, Leila. That certainly explains the slug invasion in my kitchenette. Will say no more in case wordpress is unsafe.
My nomination: Vincent Price’s ‘Theatre of Blood.’
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Hi Mick
Oh yes, Vincent was great. I recall seeing Phibes at a drive in when I was waaayyyy too young to be watching that sort of thing. I believe the one you chose involves the conceited actor killing his critics–loved it as well.
And yes, best to speak in code when the pod critters are about.
Take care and thank you!
Leila
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‘Theatre Of Blood’ was so hammed up it was criminal!! Only Vincent could get away with that!! I love that film.
Probably the most horrific auld Vincent was, was in ‘Thriller’ but in the scary arse stakes, Jackson still won by a mile!!!!
Hugh
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Mick
Thanks for mentioning Vincent, a truly great actor, even at his worst. No joke! My favorite Vincent Price film is THE LAST MAN ON EARTH, 1964. Utterly classic. Anything based on Poe with him in it is also great!
Dale
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I am Legend is a really good little book too!
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Great post and great week. I hope I have same luck with critter avoidance as we received an email at work this morning with the subject line ‘Snake Safety Reminder’. As for horror films. one of my favourites is John Carpenter’s 80s remake of The Thing.
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Hi Paul
Great choice. I found a book once that had the original source stories for science fiction films. I read something called “Who Goes There?” by John Campbell (hope I remember the correct writer). It was written in either the late twenties or early thirties and it had much more in common with the Carpenter film than the Hawk’s version with Matt Dillon as a giant carrot.
Thank you for stopping by!
Leila
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Dear Leila
Hi!
I read your short story “The Dreampurple Light” the other evening. Another masterpiece! Imaginative realism at its best. Wise and human, humorous and sad: the complications and paradoxes of life come through so truly in your work, it’s amazing. This story like all your others is a great example of artistic maturity, which has nothing to do with age one way or the other. It’s also, like all your work, paradoxical, because it’s both extremely original and part of a tradition, just like Flannery O’Connor and Virginia Woolf. Another fascinating paradox is that this is a clear, stand-alone tale, a short story, a single work all on its own, while also being part of a larger work (which is clear IF you’re paying enough attention). The VOICE in this story is amazing.
I want to go on record saying again that I think your work is better than Raymond Carver’s. It has more range and more imagination, and the characterization is deeper. I’m a huge Carver fan and believe him to be a great writer. Yours is better! (I say Carver because I believe that the region where a writer comes from has a HUGE role to play in the work they do. Hemingway is just as obviously a midwestern writer as Faulkner was a southerner, etc., even when his tales are set in international locales.)
Dale
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Arrggg
I wrote a reply just to have WP vaporize the damn thing.
Dale, I cannot thank you enough for your remarks.
Still, I believe that I should not have given Sarah a husband, even in passing, because it was not her at all.
I believe most writing can be improved by finding the humor in almost anything. “Serious” writers such as Virginia Woolf have wit in their works. Mrs Dalloway had a fine humorous tone to it. All hankies and nooses weighs stuff down.
My God what compliments! Thank you again!
Leila
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Leila,
Yes, absolutely, Woolf and F. O’Connor both have amazing senses of humor, rather deadly and shocking sometimes in the latter case.
In many ways, your work reminds me more of Mark Twain’s in the big picture because of the worldview: a skeptical intellect of a very high order (like Emily Dickinson) combined with the broad humor adds up to a Twainian vintage, and through Twain on to Vonnegut who is the modern MT (maybe even MT reincarnated). I also sense a tragic world view in your writing which is backed up by affirmation anyway, which is also Twain/Vonnegut. But all Vonnegut’s characters are flat, except for a few, like Kilgore Trout and Kurt Vonnegut. Your characters are not flat, they’re all alive and realistic (not only the narrator), and that’s Shakespearean. You’re the creator of your own universe/s in the same way that someone or something created this dream-like universe we’re in which people call “reality.” In that sense, your work reminds me more of William Faulkner than anyone else, also because of the amazing, true, realistic, legendary sense of place that you create through your words. (I’ve spent around ten days in the region you write about, in the 1990s.) And your prose style/s are amazing, enduring, lasting, real and true American literature at its finest. Perhaps my biggest flaw is massive exaggeration but NONE of this is exaggeration; it’s all critical judgement. If H. Bloom were still around to read your work, I know he would agree with me. (That’s what comes of studying his work since the ’80s.)
Henry James wrote, “I have the imagination of disaster and I see life as sinister and cruel.” In other places, he said almost exactly the opposite thing/s about himself. Your work has that same kind of paradoxical realism. And you have many stories that I haven’t even read yet. But I can tell all this from what I have read. As I’ve pointed out before, which is known, your fiction-making even extends into making a fiction of the narrator telling the story (again like Mark Twain), and fictions about your own fictions, etc. Mind-blowing! I look forward to going on and reading all of your stories (or your entire book). Your work also consistently deals with the biggest question/s of the human mind, like the existence/non-existence of God; and it does this too in an amazing, realistic, seemingly simple, offhand way (which is really profound). (Anyway, I believe God really does have a sense of humor that is not so funny to us all the time). On an idea level, your work can be compared with Wallace Stevens, one of the greatest thinkers in poetry this nation has had. I can go on (and plan to in essay form at a later date after reading more of your stories) but I’ll stop here for now. Your work is fun to write about because it’s so rich!
Dale
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Hello Dale
I do love old Kilgore Trout. And I’d say that my writing “career” is much the same. My brother is an artist who has hoarded his work for years. But back in the 80’s he had cartoons published in the old Detective magazines–the kind that featured women in peril on the covers. That always reminds me of Trout getting published, unknown to him, in porn mags. “Time Quake” was a great little novel by Mr. V that somehow never got real publicity.
Your compliments are wonderful. All I can say is that I learned to write just to please myself, and never with an eye on commercial success. The second part of that goal is damn easy to win, the first part is trickier.
Thanks again!
Leila
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Leila
I sometimes think about Dylan and his album sales. He’s sold a lot, of course, but he’s nowhere near the top of the list, he’s extremely far down the list of the best-selling musical artists of all time, in fact. There are MANY random, flash-in-the-pan pop acts that have currently sold far, far more records than the great Bob himself has ever sold. And he’s NEVER had a “number one” hit. Never, not even once. TIME is the healer when it comes to all real art and artists. I also sometimes think about how Johnny Cash and Dylan were both considered losers, has-beens, over-the-hills, finished recording artists, FAILURES, in the 1980s. Bob Dylan, the Has-Been. What a laugh! Muddy Waters was also considered a has-been failure at one point. Now there are murals of him on high-rise buildings in downtown Chicago.
And America is horrible about this. If you’re a writer who’s not on Oprah’s Book Club, or an actor or actress who hasn’t had a hit in the last twenty minutes, you’re considered a failure. The so-called “arts” in the mainstream have become so GENERIC and VAPID, any real artist has no choice but to attempt to flourish in the margins in whatever way they can.
JOAN CRAWFORD, my favorite actress of all time other than Marilyn herself, and sometimes I like Joan more, was considered a miserable failure over and over again. I just re-watched three of her films again last night. She’ll be around for a VERY long time.
As Emily Dickinson wrote, “Fame is the one that does not stay / It’s occupant must die / Or out of sight of estimate / Ascend incessantly.” !
Dale
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Hi Dale
I was lucky enough to see Muddy Waters open for Eric Clapton in Seattle in I think 1979.
Sadly, what is good and what can be sold has never been mutually exclusive. But I find that product makers are not fondly remembered.
I believe that The Ohio Express had a number one hit with the absolutely sub moronic “yummy yummy.” I sincerely doubt that they have ever created much Nobel buzz.
Thanks again!
Leila,
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