Tag Archives | Literature
I burst into my home at about 1:30 AM, and there she was, John Tim in tow. Before I could even eek out a proper greeting, she let out a bellow, the kind you’d expect from a tortured owl. Planted herself into the middle of the living room, still howling she grabbed and tugged at the clothes of the four gentleman present. She was wobbly and reeked of peach schnapps, and we weren’t gonna have any part in it. After her first assault failed, she looked up and smiled, “Don’t you guys get it? I love you all equally!” and then continued howling, this time the shrieking of holy orgasm. She then tried to mount my roommate sitting at his computer desk, no take, so she went on to just spread her legs as wide as possible, still moaning. She tried removing her top, that attempt was stifled.… Read the rest
… Read the rest
Since we saw in Paper No. 1 that the self and the other are inseparable, we can also begin to see how one of the biggest tricks in The Language Show – “sawing a person in half” – is achieved. Two aspects of the same self can be made to look like completely separate parts thanks to the old magic dividing wand of “I”, which forces a person into a very narrow position with a limited view of reality.
The trick is very easy to perform: an unwitting actor’s attention is directed away from their true centre by making them focus on a magic dot in their limited field of vision while a bend is made behind them. This results in the victim maintaining that they are an individual, which always gets a big laugh from the audience, who fail to realise they are also victims of the same trick.
This interview is with Benton Rooks, author of the TRETA-YUGA graphic novel trilogy, writer for Reality Sandwich and Disinfo, and a generally awesome guy. In 2014 he co-coined the term “entheodelic storytelling” with Graham Hancock, shamanic filmmaker/author Rak Razam, and Jeremy D. Johnson, editor of the psychedelic culture section of RS.
We speak about the often-marginalized power of the storytelling narrative in fiction and literature, the role of mythology in contemporary culture, altered states for creativity, and generally what it's like to be a fringe-writer in the modern world.
As long as I live under the capitalistic system, I expect to have my life influenced by the demands of moneyed people. But I will be damned if I propose to be at the beck and call of every itinerant scoundrel who has two cents to invest in a postage stamp.
This, sir, is my resignation.
In case you aren’t aware, Aldous Huxley was George Orwell’s French teacher at Eton College. The below letter contains Huxley’s brief review and initial thoughts on Orwell’s iconic masterpiece.
… Read the rest
21 October, 1949
Dear Mr. Orwell,
It was very kind of you to tell your publishers to send me a copy of your book. It arrived as I was in the midst of a piece of work that required much reading and consulting of references; and since poor sight makes it necessary for me to ration my reading, I had to wait a long time before being able to embark on Nineteen Eighty-Four.
Agreeing with all that the critics have written of it, I need not tell you, yet once more, how fine and how profoundly important the book is. May I speak instead of the thing with which the book deals — the ultimate revolution? The first hints of a philosophy of the ultimate revolution — the revolution which lies beyond politics and economics, and which aims at total subversion of the individual’s psychology and physiology — are to be found in the Marquis de Sade, who regarded himself as the continuator, the consummator, of Robespierre and Babeuf.
If it was good enough for your grandfather, forget it … it is much too good for anyone else!
GRAMPS FORD, his chin resting on his hands, his hands on the crook of his cane, was staring irascibly at the five-foot television screen that dominated the room. On the screen, a news commentator was summarizing the day’s happenings. Every thirty seconds or so, Gramps would jab the floor with his cane-tip and shout, “Hell, we did that a hundred years ago!”
Emerald and Lou, coming in from the balcony, where they had been seeking that 2185 A.D. rarity—privacy—were obliged to take seats in the back row, behind Lou’s father and mother, brother and sister-in-law, son and daughter-in-law, grandson and wife, granddaughter and husband, great-grandson and wife, nephew and wife, grandnephew and wife, great-grandniece and husband, great-grandnephew and wife—and, of course, Gramps, who was in front of everybody. All save Gramps, who was somewhat withered and bent, seemed, by pre-anti-gerasone standards, to be about the same age—somewhere in their late twenties or early thirties.… Read the rest
“Young Goodman Brown” By Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864), 1835
YOUNG GOODMAN BROWN came forth at sunset, into the street of Salem village, but put his head back, after crossing the threshold, to exchange a parting kiss with his young wife. And Faith, as the wife was aptly named, thrust her own pretty head into the street, letting the wind play with the pink ribbons of her cap, while she called to Goodman Brown.
“Dearest heart,” whispered she, softly and rather sadly, when her lips were close to his ear, “pr’y thee, put off your journey until sunrise, and sleep in your own bed to-night. A lone woman is troubled with such dreams and such thoughts, that she’s afeard of herself, sometimes. Pray, tarry with me this night, dear husband, of all nights in the year!”
“My love and my Faith,” replied young Goodman Brown, “of all nights in the year, this one night must I tarry away from thee.… Read the rest
“The Nose” by Nikolai Gogol, translated by Claud Field.
On the 25th March, 18—, a very strange occurrence took place in St Petersburg. On the Ascension Avenue there lived a barber of the name of Ivan Jakovlevitch. He had lost his family name, and on his sign-board, on which was depicted the head of a gentleman with one cheek soaped, the only inscription to be read was, “Blood-letting done here.”
On this particular morning he awoke pretty early. Becoming aware of the smell of fresh-baked bread, he sat up a little in bed, and saw his wife, who had a special partiality for coffee, in the act of taking some fresh-baked bread out of the oven.
“To-day, Prasskovna Ossipovna,” he said, “I do not want any coffee; I should like a fresh loaf with onions.”
“The blockhead may eat bread only as far as I am concerned,” said his wife to herself; “then I shall have a chance of getting some coffee.” And she threw a loaf on the table.… Read the rest
… Read the rest
Kurt Vonnegut claimed that his prettiest contribution to culture wasn’t a popular novel like “Cat’s Cradle” or “Slaughterhouse-Five,” but a largely forgotten master’s thesis he wrote while studying anthropology at the University of Chicago. The thesis argued that a main character has ups and downs that can be graphed to reveal the taxonomy of a story, as well as something about the culture it comes from. “The fundamental idea is that stories have shapes which can be drawn on graph paper, and that the shape of a given society’s stories is at least as interesting as the shape of its pots or spearheads,” Vonnegut said.
In addition to churning out novels, Vonnegut was deeply interested in the practice of writing. The tips he wrote for other writers – including “How to write with style” and “Eight rules for writing fiction” — are concise, funny, and still very useful.