reading the epistolary correspondences of Charles Olson and Edward Dahlberg republished in Sulfur #1 (1981) is like listening to two mud slinging beef/battle rapper's at the top of their game...it's entertaining but unnerving...it's so fucking gossipy and mean and "oh damn, he didn't just say THAT..."...your momma jokes, fat jokes, who's your daddy jokes, racist jibes and innuendo...i can't put it down.
i've been the DJ to many rap battles in my day, most notably the raucous battle between M.O.S. (Misfits Of Style) and Top Ramen (LORDS/ Earthlings) where TOPR was very drunk and the guys from M.O.S. were very sober and TOPR kept bringing it to that level of "dude, what the fuck did you just say...not cool" to the point where i had to stop the record and tell him to cool off...M.O.S. were about to beat the hell of him and maybe deservedly so...lot's of punch lines about race (TOPR is white M.O.S. are black) and hygene...anyway, while reading Dahlberg's side of the correspondence i kept wanting to "stop the record" so to speak...all "Eddy, are you SURE you want to send that...i mean, just put the letter in a drawer for a week and let it marinate...and then if you still want to send it, then go ahead..." it's just that entertaining, yay.
thank you George Albon for selling your collection of Sulfur's back in the early 2000's to Green Apple Books and thank you mom and dad for paying my way through college so that i had enough chedder as a BA to basically buy the entire early run of Sulfur magazine when i randomly stumbled upon them that auspicious Wednesday in the Inner Richmond...
a taste? yes, yes a taste me thinks...
Dahlberg to Olson 4/25/47
I know the fable about Euripides and the dogs that tore him to pieces for his impiety. But what sacrilege have I committed against you? Did I say it, or did it not come out of your mouth, "I have betrayed two persons, my Father and Edward Dahlberg." Yor revile me as a base merchant. Have you shown gluttony for praise or reputation. Do I whore after people who can help me? Am I the consort of the merchants of Toledo, Carl Van Doren and Van Wyck Brooks?...Your book [Call Me Ishmael] written under the dominion of my identity, is the proof of that....Now, for the matter of paying some irreverence to your mother. You are again unjust: the one time I was your guest, I got the water and you the wine out of the Cana Pots. I am not a gross feeder, and what food is put before me does not matter, provided my host has the same frugal fare. You happen to be a rank eater, and if Plato and Socrates and the fable of Euripides and the dogs could not teach you that it is base to give your guest dingy food while you on the opposite him and eat large chines of beef, then your belly and your unflagging appetite should have given you such breeding and wisdom...
and then here's where Dahlberg goes for the throat, "oh damn!" moment...
"You will pardon this penultimate piece [o]f human malice: May God make Charles Olson a failure, may his Call Me Ishmael go as unsold and as unread as Thoreau and Herman Melville. Should this happen, maybe then some day in some chasm where Dante casts those caitiffs, like Edward Dahlberg who was for himself and not for Charles Olson, we can talk about grossness and shame and the dogs that tore Euripides to pieces"
i just wanted to extend a very heartfelt thanks to everyone who has been there for my brother and i over the past week, it has meant the world to us and we sincerely appreciate all of you for being so present...
last week today was the last time i spoke to Beck, to wish her a happy birthday and tell her i much i love her, i'm grateful that we got to have that conversation, i'm grateful i got to call her 'bestfriend'...
Rebecca Marie Susan Ohlson November 18, 1982 – November 19, 2007 Resident of SF and Brooklyn
Our beloved Rebecca, daughter of George Ohlson of Clayton and Sandra Ohlson of San Ramon, amazing older sister to Carl and Madeline Ohlson of San Ramon, the love of Jay Slack’s life and wonderful friend to hundreds from coast to coast passed unexpectedly on November 19 morning before sunrise.
Rebecca attended St. Francis of Assisi in Concord, a year at Northgate then Cal High in San Ramon. After graduating Rebecca had some college but she wanted to live and experience the things and places most people only write about and dream of. And yes, she had started that journey at 19 venturing from SF to NY, NY by herself where she met the love of her life Jay. She had moved back to SF in July and was planning to return to Brooklyn -- to her Jay, this coming February. They would’ve married and traveled the world together gathering friends throughout. Rebecca truly lived her life. She was the master of her destiny. In the short time we were fortunate to have her she personified the meaning of family and friend and realized true love. She’s our baby, our love, our shooting star and we will miss her so.
Friends and family are invited to a memorial service on Tuesday, November 27, at 1:30 at St. Joan of Arc Catholic Church, 2601 San Ramon Valley Blvd., San Ramon. Reception immediately following at the church for everyone until 5pm. A private burial will take place on Wednesday, at Chapel of the Chimes in Hayward.
As a memorial to Rebecca a tree will be planted in the two places she loved most, Delores Park in San Francisco and Prospect Park in Brooklyn. Contributions for the trees or in lieu of flowers, may be sent to POB 3332 San Ramon, CA 94583, payable to Rebecca Ohlson Memorial Fund. You may also visit www.RebeccaOhlson.com
met up with Armand "The Dandy" Capanna and hit up the Castle and hit up Matthew "leave a tip or get out" Arnone and ogled a gaggle (!) of foreign girls sitting in the booths
all i can really remember from the Castle is Armand and i agreeing that we're both into girls who dress 60's vintage...and then this overheard coversation
foreign boy to Kim the bartender: we heard that we're not supposed to tip?
Kim the bartender: who the fuck told you that? that's retarded...
(i love this city)
after the Castle Armand and i trekked across the street to Whiskey...
John to Ceasar the bartender: you're a total rockabilly
Ceasar the bartender to John: Mexicans aren't rockabilly...Mexicans are greasers dude...
John to Ceasar the bartender: you're a total greaser...
Ceaser the bartender to John: for sure
and then this Ethiopian-Greek Orthodox Agnostic chick who is into Armand showed up with her friends...i think her name was Ada...i thought Ada was this girl my brother used to date, Yohira...so when Ada walked up to armand i almost tackled her...naturally.
Me about to tackle Ada who i mistook for Yohira: heeeeey! (playfully grabbing and then slapping her hand as she extends it to shake)
Ada: have we met?
Me: i'm johnny! james's brother...! (ready to just fully pounce)
Me: ... (realizing that this girl is indeed not Yohira and being glad that i didn't like have her in a half-nelson or whatever)
and then Becky and Megan and Ryan and Becca and Nor showed up (sadly no photos of Ryan or Nor, dudes don't have myspace))...and Nor was on vicodin and whiskey and was acting like it...he was fabulous...and megan (www.workingclassmag.com) is just fucking cool as hell and i have a crush on her...and Becky was wearing my brother's fadora and looking like Star from Thrashin'...and Ada had cornered Armand but not before she had cornered us both, literarly, and mine and Armand's thighs were touching and it was awkward but neither of us did anything about it (well, we grinded on each other a little bit)...c'est la vie.
so me and Megan and Becca and Becky and Ryan and Nor all head back to Becky's up the street...i wrestled Becky and Becca and Megan on my brother's bed...i fucking took them all out...lot's and lot's of probably incriminating photos were taken, scratch that definitely taken...Ryan at the last second had the forethought to run to Salem Market to pick up a 12 pack...(and then Nor is just so totally the man and i'm so on standby for Nor, thanks Nor i owe you)...and then we drank the beers Ryan grabbed and took more photos, i remember someone shouting "everyone take off their shoes!!! everyone take off their shoes!!!" and no one doing it...so then everyone headed up to the roof to do what ever people do on roofs at 3am...Megan and i hung back in the kitchen and finished off the beers or whatever...
7am Walk of Shame:
from the TL to my place in the Lower Haight and my head really hurts but it's so beautiful out, and so quiet and foggy...and Van Ness is actually an incredibly calm place at that hour and i'd strongly encourage all San Franciscan's to experience that walk at some point in their lives...and i'm walking and hungover but smiling because last night was such a good time and satisfying and all that and i'm thinking i probably look like a crackhead with my hoody on all puffy/bloodshot eyes and a smoke dangling out of my mouth with a big stupid smile at that ungodly hour but i'm like, it's okay, i don't care what they think...you know?
do you remember Shelly Duvall's Faerie Tale Theatre, ran on Showtime in the mid-80's?...are you still thinking about it like i am? do you remember that episode concerned with radishes? do you still have nightmare's about that episode?
Now available: The Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel: Second Floor edited by Reb Livingston & Molly Arden.
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This page is the official MySpace of Dr. Joseph Suglia and has his full authorization. It is maintained and run, with Dr. Suglia's consent, by Las Vegas-based painter Cara Shaffer, one of Dr. Suglia's most devoted readers.
Dr. Joseph Suglia is the greatest author in the world. His masterpiece is the novel WATCH OUT.
WATCH OUT is the story of Jonathan Barrows, a man who falls in love with himself---literally.
WATCH OUT is the beautifully poetic expression of one individual's desire for himself and his own life.
Despite the beauty of its language, WATCH OUT is a deeply shocking book. It shocks even the most jaded of readers.
Dr. Suglia himself considers WATCH OUT to be his life's most significant accomplishment.
Dr. Suglia has been heavily praised by The Chicago Reader as one of the American Midwest's most promising writers of fiction. He is also far and away the most popular writer on MySpace.
WATCH OUT was an Amazon bestseller between the months of May and August 2007---quite an accomplishment for a non-mainstream writer.
A cinematic interpretation of WATCH OUT will be directed by the award-winning filmmaker Steve Balderson (Firecracker).
Dr. Suglia received a Ph.D. in Comparative Literary Studies at Northwestern University. He is regarded in scholarly communities as one of America's most profound literary critics.
Dr. Suglia is hard at work on a new novel; it is, to use his words, "a web of words, numbers, and images."
Feel free to post comments on this page; however, Dr. Suglia may not read them. He only visits this page once a month.
are driving around our neighborhood in David's Electra 225
lot's of people are out, Treat and Oak Grove is packed with shoppers, loafers, folks waiting for the County Connection etc. it's dusk, everything looks Sepia. i'm in the front seat, with David driving and Leo in the back. i'm really drunk, David is nervously sober and Leo might be stoned or something. David is drinking a bottle of water and blathering about the new Zelda or graffiti or whatever. As David is making a left turn into Cork n'Bottle he drops his water, it rolls around for a second then lodges under the brake peddle. David starts to panic because he can't stop the car, we're making a left turn and he's trying to reach down and unlodge the bottle while controlling the wheel the whole time all "yo yo yo yoyoyyoyooyo yo yo..." and so i grab the wheel, and Leo takes off his walkman all "shit shit oh shit shit" and David dives down into the driver's leg area, ass in the air, and knocks the bottle clear of the brake peddle, we're still careening towards the liquor store at 15 miles an hour, David quickly rights himself and slams on the brakes. Now i'm laughing and David is all "yo, yo yo YO!?" and Leo is laughing and starts ad-libing a lewd R&B song that goes something like "she had big titties! and we slammed on the brakes!!! i said 'have my baby!!! before it's tooooo laaate'!!!!"...now David is laughing and is telling us to "shut it down." For some reason i'm craving vodka tonics. i tell David to drive around the corner to The Captain's Chest David sort of looks at me sideways and says "you wanna go to the Captain's Chest right now?" and i smile stupidly all "hell yessssss!"...and Leo is laughing and taps David on the shoulder and says "hell yesssssss!"...and David is all "simmer down..." and asks me if i've ever read Thus Spoke Zarathustra.
i'm going to go to bed and have anxiety dreams about being "let go"...
UPDATE: my work related anxiety dream from last night: i walk into my office and notice my phone is missing, i ask M. if she knows who took my phone, M. says that it was stolen but she doesn't know by who, i think to myself i can't get any work done without my phone, i think to myself "i'm fired"
i watched Zodiac this afternoon and really loved it.
had a very bizarre photoshoot with Armand over at his place on Saturday night. i have a feeling that the photos aren't going to come out very good. i think Armand and i look fat in most of the photos. i'm wearing a bolo tie though. i think the photos might look like Varnet ads from the 80's.
i'm going to blog something about Books & Bookshelves in SF tommorrow maybe, or possibly just this week...hi david highsmith.
i threatened to smother EC on Saturday night. EC was smothered.
in the last three days i've eaten cous cous, spanakopita, giant hunks of feta, trail mix from the korean produce market, sausage, yogurt covered raisins, persimons, banana, pears, beers...
i got hit by a car in the Castro on saturday morning and walked away pissed off but laughing.
i skated all day on saturday and now have a giant red/purple bruise on my left whatever-you-call-that-area-above-the-hip-bone...i think it's pretty, i think it looks like a delicious sorbet. skated from the Castro with my brother (on his bike) down Market over to the Piers and then over to Aquatic Park and looked at one girl in a bikini and drank water. then back up Polk St. and through the TL and down Van Nes over to Hayes and then up Fell and then over To Haight where i stopped into D-Structure to hang out with Sylvia and Devan for a second and then home.
i left all my tinysides and my sunglasses at armand's house. i'm a little horrified at the prospect of riding the 6 line tomorrow morning without my sunglasses.
today, I went into the Sauna, was reading an article on the 20th anniversary of Appetite for Destruction...in there with one other dude...dude, gets up & comes & sits next to me...same dude who has been winking at me for a few weeks now...dude says "hey", I say "whats up" while not looking up from my article...after about 30 seconds, motherfucker says "hey" again but this time, is rubbing my arm, so I do what any sensible person would do & knocked his hand off my arm, looked at him, swayed my pointer-finger in his face & said "Don't you ever fucking touch me" & I didn't even say it in a mean way but rather in a way "hey, i'm not cool with that" kinda way, & he, obviously being either retarded or deaf asked "No?" in a very whiny tone & I responded "What did I just fucking say?!"...dude, apparently, unaffected by this continues to sit next to me for a few minutes until another dude comes in & he finally leaves. As I exit the sauna, I go into the showers, taking a shower I look up & see touching-dude is looking at me in a way [i.e. staring at my junk], that still leads me to belive touching-dude didn't understand what I said so I said to him "You know what, don't even fucking looking at me"
Can a man not sweat in peace? This is a recurring theme, you know , dude going to town on himself & then trying to touch me etc. Each to his own obviously, but c'mon personal boundries...at least ask "can i touch your stinky-sauna-sweaty-body?"--the SF ladies should take note! I'm apparently prime fucking Italian sweaty Sauna Meat!
on a side-note, i get free passes to the gym...you want to hit up the sauna with me? I'll give ya a killer shoulder-massage...think of those photos
The Islands (Nightboat Books), "now, 1/3" and thepoem (BlazeVOX Books) Chinese Notebook (Ugly Duckling Presse)
Maribor (The Post-Apollo Press)
Rude Girl (BlazeVOX Books)
Rave On! (Lew Gallery)
Gary Gygax (Cy Gist Press)
Rude Girl (Duration Press)
The Moveable Ones (Transmission Press)
Benthos (Silas Press). Lives in Oakland. Works for Small Press Distribution.