I'm a bastard, i know this and don't really worry about it, i like it that way. I've been doing a lot of reading these days, it seems i always do a lot of reading and for some reason it's been pissing me off, not the reading so much as some of the stuff i've read that is hailed by the ivory towers as classic stuff. See i don't get it. It's another one of my diatribes about the fucking club, the mfa/academic circuit that produces and has produced nothing but shit. I'm tired of it. Fucking real tired. Tired of silly fucks writing about how they bleed for the word and how it's like a disease. Get fucked is all i have to say. Keep writing that dear diary bullshit that you and your friends can all fawn over at the writer's workshop or on your blog's, pat yourselves on the back and realize that you're all cunts. Talent has nothing to do with it most likely because you have none. If you have no talent for living you certainly won't be able to produce something i'm gonna want to read. Sitting in classrooms and learning how to craft the "word", the phrase itself makes me fucking laugh, could be time better spent watching porno's, shooting up, playing hopscotch. It's really that simple. The machine pushes off a ton of shit that they call genius and if it's really so genius i must really be a simpler fool than i thought cuz i don't seem to comprehend it.
I was once asked why i write and i think i gave the most honest and straightforward answer any red-blooded Merkin male could give... for the pussy. I was younger then and since writing bad poetry did get me into many a pair of strange panties i may have revised my answer now that i'm older to include to entertain myself, an answer that cunt Bukowski gave once but in my case i mean it more, so fuck you Buk if you'd have answered honestly you'd of said pussy too, you were great when you were broke and hungry before you slowly turned into some fat idiot who believed his own press clippings, i admire you mainly for the way you told the establishment to fuck off but then there were others who did it better...
In no particular order and repeating myself like an old drunk there is Celine for his disdain for mankind, Cormac McCarthy follows with his equally dire view of the value of humanity, there is Henry Miller and his joy, Nelson Algren for his bleak beauty, Jim Thompson for his sheer will and insanity, Roberto Bolano for his guts, there are many single books where the authors caught the lightening, Catch-22, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Nick Adams Stories and a host of others, that squirrelly fuck Franz for instance and if there's one common thread in all of these writers it's that they wrote while they worked, worked shit jobs in restaurant's, were doctors in crap neighborhood's, they carved out time to do it more or less and didn't feel the need to attend a few year's of class to join some club where your buddies all publish each other and pat themselves on the back while taking turns giving readings at insert university/college name here, where daddy or spouse paid the bills so they could follow their muse, i've never met the muse, if you see her tell her to stop by my place i've got some bad poetry to read and the aching need for some quality head, lip gloss would be a nice touch to if possible...
In a long winded, round about way i'm saying that all this so called canon can suck it, the mfa's have ruined literature with their cosy, safe pap they pass off as writing, i want fucking blood and guts, i want dope, guns and fucking... those cats above provide that but i'm wondering where the new kids are? i might be trying but i'm generally lazy and prone to sleeping and taking drugs and drinking and reading Dr. Seuss to the imaginary boy and in the mean time i need entertained...
5 comments:
Cormac McCarthy's writing is sublime.
wotcha got against Bukowski though? do you really think he sold out later on? I don't......
How about John Fante?
Nursie i was a big Bukowski fan when i was younger (i've read over 50 some books by or about Hank) and still appreciate him but after extensive reading of him it's his early stuff that hits while his later stuff is basically him telling us how cool he is, i still dig him he's just not on the pedastal i used to place him on in my 20's, Buk's middle period was hit and miss and towards the end he did write some interesting things while staring down his own death but i as i said there was a large amount of average to bad shit and like every drunk the man was redudant. I do like John Fante, have read everything that's in print by the man, Ask the Dust, Brotherhood of the Grape and The Big Hunger (short stories) being my favorites.
and i did raise a glass this month Nursie to the passing of one Henry Charles Bukowski, who i believe died March 9, 1994. Drinks for all my friends.
hey. so what do you think of kerouac? or burroughs?
Hello Carrie,I dug Kerouac when i was younger and i think that's what he's good for, getting you when you're young and impressionable, haven't pulled him out in a long time and don't really have the desire to, my favorite Kerouac is The Subterraneans... as for Father Bill i fucking love him, though i won't say all his fiction is great but for the most part it's pretty fucking good and some of it is flat out brilliant, The Exterminator is probably the one i admire most but also dig Naked Lunch, Junkie, Queer, The Cat Inside, the man was definitely an original and i loved to hear him speak on any number of topics, a fascinating critic of the human condition and society in general. Thanks for stopping by the lounge.
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