Supporters Update [August 6, 2020]
Folks, if you've not seen the excerpt webpage I added yesterday, please check it out. I am publishing the first "album" (collection) of Rock-n-Roll Reads this autumn ('20)—with GARDEN GNOME as a bonus track.
Thank you, Supporters. You help make this possible.
I obviously have a little something to do with it—given I'm writing the damn things.
Also to be insouciantly unchained and set loose upon the world in autumn 2020...
I'm publishing a long form story I wrote years ago. It may've been the first time I wrote about Pandora, Kansas and Ad Astra College. I am not positive. It is, after all, a little after 6AM. I woke up late, and haven't had my coffee, fuckers.
I never widely published this long form story. For a number of reasons: strategic & tactical, and personal & professional. Thinking about it all a bit more and writing here, now, this morning, I do think it was the first time I used these story elements. Years ago now.
God, feels funny scribbling that out.
Here we go. We'll be having us a time.
Thank you, Supporters. You help make this possible.
I obviously have a little something to do with it—given I'm writing the damn things.
Also to be insouciantly unchained and set loose upon the world in autumn 2020...
I'm publishing a long form story I wrote years ago. It may've been the first time I wrote about Pandora, Kansas and Ad Astra College. I am not positive. It is, after all, a little after 6AM. I woke up late, and haven't had my coffee, fuckers.
I never widely published this long form story. For a number of reasons: strategic & tactical, and personal & professional. Thinking about it all a bit more and writing here, now, this morning, I do think it was the first time I used these story elements. Years ago now.
God, feels funny scribbling that out.
Here we go. We'll be having us a time.
Sincerely,
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#FreeAndEfficaciousVaccine2020
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#FreeAndEfficaciousVaccine2020
Public Notices (some serious. some not.)
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DIGITAL YARDSIGNS
#KansasBallotForBollier #POTUSblank2020 #NoToJoe2020 #NoOnJoe2020 In this house, WE BELIEVE backyard squirrels and birds can share the seed feeders... because mixed meat dinners are delicious. DIGITAL BUMPER STICKERS Gonna Give Joe A Hard No. Regarding Joe: Fuck you, no. . . . from my cold, dead hands. 🍦🍨🍧 © 2020 DAEDALUS HOT WINGS / Allison Wonderland, Inc. It's not a rumor. I do hate you. #TwitterIsTrash #tycmasiuya #togaiadasstotw #ktaalGfsto #btbfh |
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Questions and Answers (some serious. some not.)
Why No Active Social Media Accounts?
They're used only to research comments/feelings of everyday persons. To temporarily and passively plug into the public sphere. However, I can and do block certain social media accounts, without regard to political affiliation, race, religion or whatever, to eliminate bullshit (propaganda, attention-seeking, lies, power- and platform-imbalance dynamics, hate speech, etc.) from my future search results.
Why Do You Occasionally Spell Words Differently?
Short answer: I am playing and having fun.
Long answer: My grandparents wrote and spoke their English words differently than we do in the States. That fact made an impression on me. Also, have you ever heard William F. Buckley Jr. speak? I once read or heard his voice described as pan-Atlantic. I grooved on that. It made a kind of sense to me, given the peculiar sounds and spellings extant in my own house (family) when I was a boy. Anyway, I decided I'd create my own little mashup and merge aspects of language from both sides of the pond. You know, I am playing and having fun.
Can You Provide Guidance or Assistance With Writing Query or Submission Letters?
No, aspiring writers focused on traditional publishing, I can't! Why? Because I have zero experience with such things. I've never pursued traditional publishing. So, I've never written a query letter. Not once. And I'm not ashamed of that, although some so-called "pros" in the leech-filled Land of Letters believe I'm somehow less than—and not serious about the craft—because of it.
Why Have You Shared Rough Drafts?
Because the starting point is important, and nothing to be ashamed about. Also, for all its talk about embracing and accepting it, Western culture punishes—and hides from—failure, the unpolished, uncouth and unrefined. The entrepreneur who "made it" is placed on a pedestal and is not only stroked, but stroked mighty hard. The business owner who lost everything and became homeless is mostly ignored, often mocked. I'm straight up challenging the lies and bullshit. My culture markets aspiration — "success" and "achievement" — harder than a fucking street corner dealer pushes heroin. Tastemakers can entirely fuck off.
What's your elevator pitch that describes you?
No pitch. A pitch implies branding. And the question reeks of personal branding. If you want to discuss personal branding tune-in and watch a particularly crappy "reality" TV show pushing conformance Capitalism, and the accompanying myth-building horseshit, airing on network television. I will, however, share with you a phrase describing me with a certain accuracy: A silhouette reminiscent of SHAW's unreasonable man admiring TWAIN's acerbic wit.
Didn't You Once Describe Yourself as a Recovering Accountant?
Yes, I did. However, I have fallen off the wagon and am using (capitalism) again. Now let me ask YOU some things: Do you assume I'll hide the delivery mechanisms feeding the junk into my bloodstream—the straws and needles? Believe I'll be a bathroom-stall-hideaway-closet-user like the elite members of the Center-Left Establishment, the privileged members of Media, Technology & Entertainment masquerading their greed and hunger for power? You think I'll engage in similar subterfuge?
What's the Meaning of Life?
I don't know. Go ask Conan the Barbarian or the living members of the Monty Python comedy troupe.
(Note: If you can speak with the dead ones I want to party with you.)
What's Your Proudest Moment?
It's not a moment—and certainly not something I am, like, "proud" of—but I totally fucking dig the fact I have performed at least two of the same jobs Alan Moore has.
What's the Best Way to Prepare Liver and Onions?
Don't.
Assuming it was the end of the world and mutually agreed upon by both parties and, therefore, a consensual act, would you engage in coitus with a certain famous author that gets under your skin and irritates you to no end and who also likely borrowed both storyline and protagonist elements from other authors and strategically overlooked and did not mention these influences during their rise to fame?
Honey? Is that you? It's you... isn't it? I mean this seems to be a pretty fucking specific question and fact pattern hinting at insider status afforded only to someone who is both intimately familiar with me and who was present when I may have answered a TRUTH OR DARE / WHAT IF? question during a game night session with family and friends during a Kansas winter holiday or while at a summer camp home in Maine. It's you, honey... right? Yeah? No? Hmm... Okay... then it's some lowly junior-level NSA analyst who drew short and pulled a weekend work shift to tap cellphone mics and was unlucky enough to unlawfully tap mine. What's your name, kid? You're a G&T Language grad, I bet. Am I right? Look here. I am sure you're swell and all but the role your playing is shit. Nothing patriotic about it. The job is a burning ember lit by a mage flame of paranoia and hegemony. I encourage you to consider other avenues of employment. It's the time of the plague. And kids, at least the kids here in my state, are going to have an extended summer. They need fun distractions. Something to reduce the stress. They need ice cream. Consider NOT spying for slack-jaw career politicians and their more furtive shadow government counterparts. Consider peddling ice cream. Cold. Refreshing. Tasty. Ice cream. Folks need cheering up. it's the time of the plague. And your job is shit, in case I wasn't clear earlier.
What's your favorite James Bond scene?
Oh! That's an easy one. It hasn't been filmed yet. Oscar Wilde plays the part of James Bond. I play the role of Auric Goldfinger. Oscar has just left the shower. He walks to the writing desk—where I am trying to work—and quite rudely grabs the pen from my hand. I look him in the eye and say: "No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to give me the pen and, for a change, you hold my nutsack while ** I ** write." It's sort of a weird, genre-crossover, double-dip fanfic thing I've been working on. Thanks for asking. Bet you're glad ya did.
They're used only to research comments/feelings of everyday persons. To temporarily and passively plug into the public sphere. However, I can and do block certain social media accounts, without regard to political affiliation, race, religion or whatever, to eliminate bullshit (propaganda, attention-seeking, lies, power- and platform-imbalance dynamics, hate speech, etc.) from my future search results.
Why Do You Occasionally Spell Words Differently?
Short answer: I am playing and having fun.
Long answer: My grandparents wrote and spoke their English words differently than we do in the States. That fact made an impression on me. Also, have you ever heard William F. Buckley Jr. speak? I once read or heard his voice described as pan-Atlantic. I grooved on that. It made a kind of sense to me, given the peculiar sounds and spellings extant in my own house (family) when I was a boy. Anyway, I decided I'd create my own little mashup and merge aspects of language from both sides of the pond. You know, I am playing and having fun.
Can You Provide Guidance or Assistance With Writing Query or Submission Letters?
No, aspiring writers focused on traditional publishing, I can't! Why? Because I have zero experience with such things. I've never pursued traditional publishing. So, I've never written a query letter. Not once. And I'm not ashamed of that, although some so-called "pros" in the leech-filled Land of Letters believe I'm somehow less than—and not serious about the craft—because of it.
Why Have You Shared Rough Drafts?
Because the starting point is important, and nothing to be ashamed about. Also, for all its talk about embracing and accepting it, Western culture punishes—and hides from—failure, the unpolished, uncouth and unrefined. The entrepreneur who "made it" is placed on a pedestal and is not only stroked, but stroked mighty hard. The business owner who lost everything and became homeless is mostly ignored, often mocked. I'm straight up challenging the lies and bullshit. My culture markets aspiration — "success" and "achievement" — harder than a fucking street corner dealer pushes heroin. Tastemakers can entirely fuck off.
What's your elevator pitch that describes you?
No pitch. A pitch implies branding. And the question reeks of personal branding. If you want to discuss personal branding tune-in and watch a particularly crappy "reality" TV show pushing conformance Capitalism, and the accompanying myth-building horseshit, airing on network television. I will, however, share with you a phrase describing me with a certain accuracy: A silhouette reminiscent of SHAW's unreasonable man admiring TWAIN's acerbic wit.
Didn't You Once Describe Yourself as a Recovering Accountant?
Yes, I did. However, I have fallen off the wagon and am using (capitalism) again. Now let me ask YOU some things: Do you assume I'll hide the delivery mechanisms feeding the junk into my bloodstream—the straws and needles? Believe I'll be a bathroom-stall-hideaway-closet-user like the elite members of the Center-Left Establishment, the privileged members of Media, Technology & Entertainment masquerading their greed and hunger for power? You think I'll engage in similar subterfuge?
What's the Meaning of Life?
I don't know. Go ask Conan the Barbarian or the living members of the Monty Python comedy troupe.
(Note: If you can speak with the dead ones I want to party with you.)
What's Your Proudest Moment?
It's not a moment—and certainly not something I am, like, "proud" of—but I totally fucking dig the fact I have performed at least two of the same jobs Alan Moore has.
What's the Best Way to Prepare Liver and Onions?
Don't.
Assuming it was the end of the world and mutually agreed upon by both parties and, therefore, a consensual act, would you engage in coitus with a certain famous author that gets under your skin and irritates you to no end and who also likely borrowed both storyline and protagonist elements from other authors and strategically overlooked and did not mention these influences during their rise to fame?
Honey? Is that you? It's you... isn't it? I mean this seems to be a pretty fucking specific question and fact pattern hinting at insider status afforded only to someone who is both intimately familiar with me and who was present when I may have answered a TRUTH OR DARE / WHAT IF? question during a game night session with family and friends during a Kansas winter holiday or while at a summer camp home in Maine. It's you, honey... right? Yeah? No? Hmm... Okay... then it's some lowly junior-level NSA analyst who drew short and pulled a weekend work shift to tap cellphone mics and was unlucky enough to unlawfully tap mine. What's your name, kid? You're a G&T Language grad, I bet. Am I right? Look here. I am sure you're swell and all but the role your playing is shit. Nothing patriotic about it. The job is a burning ember lit by a mage flame of paranoia and hegemony. I encourage you to consider other avenues of employment. It's the time of the plague. And kids, at least the kids here in my state, are going to have an extended summer. They need fun distractions. Something to reduce the stress. They need ice cream. Consider NOT spying for slack-jaw career politicians and their more furtive shadow government counterparts. Consider peddling ice cream. Cold. Refreshing. Tasty. Ice cream. Folks need cheering up. it's the time of the plague. And your job is shit, in case I wasn't clear earlier.
What's your favorite James Bond scene?
Oh! That's an easy one. It hasn't been filmed yet. Oscar Wilde plays the part of James Bond. I play the role of Auric Goldfinger. Oscar has just left the shower. He walks to the writing desk—where I am trying to work—and quite rudely grabs the pen from my hand. I look him in the eye and say: "No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to give me the pen and, for a change, you hold my nutsack while ** I ** write." It's sort of a weird, genre-crossover, double-dip fanfic thing I've been working on. Thanks for asking. Bet you're glad ya did.
