This is America. People do whatever the fuck they feel like doing, you got a problem with that? Because they have a right to. And because they have guns and no one can fucking stop them. As a result, this country has one of the worst economies in the world. When it gets down to it...There's only four things we do better than anyone else:

Music
Movies
Microcode (software)
High-speed pizza delivery

—excerpt from Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson, 1992

T H E   P E N I S   S P A M M E R S

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—Subject lines from a collection of Penis Spams received over the past 72 hours.

"Of course, I think it's all grand. And he says she's not mumble?"
"Not in the least. In fact, quite the mumble. She's an extraordinary mumble and might make a good mumble someday."
How infuriating. Just what one dreams will happen. I've always wanted to hear people talk about me, thought Harriet, and now I can't hear it.

—excerpt from Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, 1964

A while back I talked about an interesting blog called Sedalina. I liked the comic book like characters and the interesting writing. Well I clicked back to check a few days ago and she had completely changed the template. No more comic characters! Too bad. I still urge you to go and visit for the writing. She is quite skilled and has a natural style. Real life stuff, dig?

Big Brother is watching you recharge

Bruce Sterling talks about people getting hassled for recharging their notebooks from public outlets!

"THERE IS SOMETHING GOING ON. SPORT HAS A TOOL KIT HE HAS BEEN CARRYING AROUND ALL DAY. CARRY ANDREWS' POCKET IN HER SWEATER IS FILLED WITH NAILS. EITHER THEY ARE GOING TO BUILD SOMETHING OR THEY ARE GOING TO CATCH ME AND DRIVE NAILS THROUGH MY HEAD."

—excerpt from Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, 1964

Bloody Di, originally uploaded by headsfromspace.
This disturbing painting of Princess Diana is part of the New Blood exhibition at London's Saatchi Gallery. I am posting this from Flickr, a new web service and meeting place for the web-addicted. You are strongly urged to check out this highly interesting and righteous site as soon as possible.  (photo link via subterranean)

Posted by headsfromspace from Flickr.

WHAT TO DO ABOUT PINKY WHITEHEAD
1. TURN THE HOSE ON HIM.
2. PINCH HIS EARS UNTIL HE SCREAMS.
3. TEAR HIS PANTS OFF AND LAUGH AT HIM.

—excerpt from Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, 1964

Curious and fun: Drug Fiction postcards from BuzzBuy.



Fantastic hoard of Lesbian pulp fiction covers:



A more complete and equally stunning gallery of Lesbian Pulp at Strange Sisters:



Finally, a beautiful gallery of Pulp Covers from the early days of Science Fiction:

"I FEEL ALL THE SAME THINGS WHEN I DO THINGS ALONE AS WHEN OLE GOLLY WAS HERE. THE BATH FEELS HOT, THE BED FEELS SOFT, BUT I FEEL THERE'S A FUNNY LITTLE HOLE IN ME THAT WASN'T THERE BEFORE, LIKE A SPLINTER IN YOUR FINGER, BUT THIS IS SOMEWHERE ABOVE MY STOMACH"

—excerpt from Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, 1964

Hamas leaders vowed Monday to "cut off" the head of Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, after their spiritual leader Sheikh Ahmed Yassin was killed in a missile strike by Israeli helicopter gunships in Gaza City. (via drudge)

How news travels on the internet, via bifurcated rivets.

Planet like red body discovered, most distant object in the Solar System, largest since the discovery of Pluto:



link via incoming signals

"Ole Golly," Harriet said loudly, "are you trying to say something?"
"Yes."
"Well, what, then?"
" 'Solitude, the safeguard of mediocrity, is to genius the stern friend'!"
"WHAT?" Harriet screamed with exasperation.
"Emerson. 'Conduct of Life.' "
"OLE GOLLY"—Harriet stood up. She was really furious—"do you or don't you feel sorry for people who are alone?"
"No," said Ole Golly, looking up quizzically at Harriet. "No, I don't."
"Oh," said Harriet and sat down. "I do."
" 'This above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.' "
Sometimes, Harriet thought, I wish she would just shut up.

—excerpt from Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, 1964

I really love this book.

I can't resist posting this link to the celebrity swear-a-thon.
(via everlasting blort)


Beautiful silver woman via neurastenia

Flickr

"LIFE IS A GREAT MYSTERY. IS EVERYONE A DIFFERENT PERSON WHEN THEY ARE WITH SOMEONE ELSE? OLE GOLLY HAS NEVER BEEN THIS WAY. I WONDER IF PEOPLE ACT LIKE THIS WHEN THEY GET MARRIED. HOW COULD SHE GET MARRIED? WOULD MR. WALDENSTEIN COME TO LIVE WITH US THEN? THEY COULD PUT THEIR CHILD IN MY ROOM IF THEY WANTED TO. I WOULDN'T MIND. I DON'T THINK. UNLESS IT WAS A VERY NOSY CHILD WHO TRIED TO READ MY NOTEBOOKS. THEN I WOULD SMASH IT."

—excerpt from Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, 1964

Michael Moorcock online at Michael Moorcock's Multiverse is a nice looking but badly built and organized site with a lot of information about the world famous creator of such fantasy icons as Elric, Hawkmoon, and Corum, all aspects of The Eternal Champion. Wow! As I click through the site, an official Moorcock site, mind you, I just can't believe how badly organized it is! Just terrible. Someone oughta go over there with the Black Sword and kick some programmer ass, seriously.


A small but better organized Moorcock site is here. A site with some nice images of Moorcock covers and book illustrations can be found at The Dreaming City.

Bruce Sterling is tickled pink:



"I can blog myself blogging my blog. "

"IT'S JUST WHAT OLE GOLLY SAYS. RICH PEOPLE ARE BORING. SHE SAYS WHEN PEOPLE DON'T DO ANYTHING THEY DON'T THINK ANYTHING, AND WHEN THEY DON'T THINK ANYTHING THERE'S NOTHING TO THINK ABOUT THEM. IF I HAD A DUMBWAITER I WOULD LOOK IN IT ALL THE TIME TO SEE IF ANYBODY WAS IN IT."

—excerpt from Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, 1964

Exposing the worldwide deadly Communist Gangster Computer God!

View screenshots of the new Longhorn operating system. This site is your complete portal to updates and views of the new Microsoft interface slated to replace Windows sometime in the year 3000...

My father sent me this in an e-mail: compare and contrast...


Surf Guitar legend Dick Dale will actually answer your e-mail! Try it. He likes people.

Motown's notorious proto-punks, the MC5, broke away from the flower-child culture of the late 1960's with an incredible explosion of rich high-energy rock music and in your face political messages courtesy of John Sinclair and the White Panther Movement. The rise and fall of this short-lived but influential band, regarded by many as the fathers of the punk rock genre, is documented in great detail at Make My Day.


A huge collection of psychedelic MC5 posters on this page.

"MAN WITH ROLLED WHITE SOCKS, FAT LEGS. WOMAN WITH ONE CROSS EYE AND A LONG NOSE. HORRIBLE LOOKING LITTLE BOY AND A FAT BLOND MOTHER WHO KEEPS WIPING HIS NOSE OFF. FUNNY LADY WHO LOOKS LIKE A TEACHER AND IS READING. I DON'T THINK I'D LIKE TO LIVE WHERE ANY OF THESE PEOPLE LIVE OR DO THE THINGS THEY DO. I BET THAT LITTLE BOY IS SAD AND CRIES A LOT. I BET THAT LADY WITH THE CROSS-EYE LOOKS IN THE MIRROR AND JUST FEELS TERRIBLE."

—excerpt from Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh, 1964

Incredible collection of William S. Burroughs audio files from ubu.com. Spend some time at this smart looking site and you'll soon see why it's so unique. A step by step article on how to create drop shadows at the always useful a list apart.

"The historical Shakespeare," growled one of the grad students through a full beard, uncapping another bottle. "The historical Marx. The historical Jesus."
"He's right," shrugged Bortz, "they're dead. What's left?"
"Words."
"Pick some words," said Bortz. "Them, we can talk about."

—excerpt from The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon, 1965

Savage knives of The Guilty never stop stabbing

It is hard to imagine being more disgusted with those who smirk and point at Martha Stewart's conviction with undisguised glee. The enjoyment they seem to take in her downfall is pure evil. I wish I could say I didn't understand it. What is it about Americans that we can take such pleasure in the pain of another? Do we honestly believe that we are not guilty too? Do we really count ourselves among the innocent? Are we a nation of complete fools, only dragging our eyes from the TV long enough to make some snide comments about the shooting down, whatever their crime, of someone whose worst offense seems to be that they have more money than we do?

Pisses me off is all.

I want to believe that such people are in the minority. That would be a comfort. But here's the thing: How many people doing the war dance around Martha's still living corpse haven't lied, cheated, stolen, coveted someone's else's wife, husband, possessions? How many are hiding nasty little secrets of their own, whether legal or moral, and feeling oh so superior only because they are still hidden?

Oh, it makes me wonder yes it does.

Here's something to clear the palette

I came across a website last week so yummy it was like a big chocolate-covered marshmallow. Epitonic is a music site dedicated to the dissemination of the best in new music. I spent a couple hours there downloading lightning fast MP3's and finding new bands I had never heard of. The site also features streaming audio! To top it all off I found Sister Anne by the MC5. How cool is that? Answer: Extremely cool, if I believed in cool, which I don't.

You should probably check out this site if you love high energy rock n roll. If not, please stay away because we don't need your kind messing things up for the rest of us, you jive-ass turkeys!

Mucho thrust the mike in front of her, mumbling, "You're on, just be yourself." Then in his earnest broadcasting voice, "How do you feel about this terrible thing?"
"Terrible," said Oedipa.
"Wonderful," said Mucho.

excerpt from The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon, 1965


Batman is the coolest superhero ever. Those who don't agree can kiss my batarang.

Yesterday was Douglas Adam's birthday. I remember being blown away by The Hitch-hiker's Guide to The Galaxy when it first made it to the states on NPR. I taped all the episodes and listened to them until I wore them out. Then I listened to them some more. When the last Hitch-hiker novel was published, I went to a book signing in Lansing, Michigan where he read a passage from the book, Mostly Harmless. My impression was of a soft-spoken, gentle, humorous man. Not a sign of arrogance in him. He signed my book and thanked me for coming. He was just 49 years old when he died on May 11, 2001.

"Ruby, what happened after the war? That war, the world flipped. But come '45, and they flopped. Here in Harlem they flopped. Everything got cool—no love, no hate, no worries, no excitement. Every once in a while, though, somebody flips back. Back to where he can love..."
"Maybe that's it," the girl said, after a while. "Maybe you have to be crazy to love somebody."
"But you take a whole bunch of people flip at the same time and you've got a war. Now war is not loving, is it?"
"Flip flop," she said, "get the mop."

—excerpt from V by Thomas Pynchon, 1963

Link above leads to Plimpton's review of V

During the past few weeks, skimming through perhaps a hundred blogs or more, I've run across a few comments like this from burned out bloggers:

"I don't know if I can do this anymore. It's been fun but I need to get some real work done. I'm not really saying the things I want to say. This is taking up too much of my time. I'm burned out. I'm going on a hiatus, don't know if or when I'll be back. My serious writing is suffering. I've lost a limb. The sorrow. The horror."

Well I just have one thing to say to you sensitive, suffering bloggers, writers who have tons more talent than I do: Get out. Your whining is misplaced. No one forced you to start blogging, and there are hundreds of bright young writers eager for an audience who will gladly take your place. Don't get me wrong. I love reading a good rant or observation from these talented people. But I don't want to hear about how difficult it is. It's not. I can't help it if you sweat two or three hours over your madly clever and ironic posts. You shouldn't. Life's too short. Just write about people you hate, why your sig-other drives you crazy, or how stupid and evil politicians are, 3 or 4 days a week. Then, do one post that is really well thought out. That ought to take care of the burn-out, and everyone will still know how clever you are.

See how simple it is?

Here's a link to Chaos Manor, the Jerry Pournelle blog. He is a veteran writer of science fiction who claims to be the original blogger. Take a look...

"He had an interesting daydream all built up, which went: You're jobless, I'm jobless, here we both are out of work, let's screw. He was horny. What little money he'd saved from the sewer job had almost run out and here he was considering seduction. It kept the time moving right along."

—excerpt from V by Thomas Pynchon, 1963

The Doctor is in, very nice flash episodes of Doctor Who. Mojo Nixon is hanging it up, via bat's brain. Weird pictures: Bedworm and Dog shoes via things mag. A new Batman short, Batman: Dead End, and will there be a prequel to the Lord of the Rings trilogy? Maybe, and here is a fake trailer that faked me out yesterday. Last of all, Ray has tipped me to Foamy the Squirrel.


Check out some incredible covers by master comic book artist Jack Kirby at Two Tomorrows

"Stencil had called from a Hungarian coffee shop on York Avenue known as Hungarian Coffee Shop. At this hour, the only customers were two elderly ladies and a cop off duty. The woman behind the pastry counter was all tomato cheeks and smiles, looking like the type who gave extra portions to poor growing boys and mothered bums with free refills on coffee, though it was a neighborhood of rich kids and bums who were only accidental there and knew it and so 'moved on' quickly"

—excerpt from V by Thomas Pynchon, 1963

Dear Diary:

You won't believe this! Clarice Dorchester looked at me in gym class today. I mean she gave me THE look. I got all wobbly for a second and Kyle Storch nailed me right in the face (we were playing dodgeball). Totally sucked because I got a bloody nose and the nurse had to come so I looked like a total flit. How do you know if you're cool enough to get with a girl like Clarice? Is there a test or something I could take? I am totally in the dark about this and need help now!

More later.



Lost Gem: The very funky and surreal Vegetable Soup, a lost Saturday Morning cartoon gem from 1975 featuring the voice of James Earl Jones.

"You felt she'd done a thousand secret things to her eyes. They needed no haze of cigarette smoke to look at you out of sex and fathomless, but carried their own along with them. New York must have been for her a city of smoke, its streets the courtyards of limbo, its bodies like wraiths. Smoke seemed to be in her voice, in her movements; making her all the more substantial, more there, as if words, glances, small lewdnesses could only become baffled and brought to rest like smoke in her long hair; remain there useless till she released them, accidentally and unknowingly, with a toss of her head."

—excerpt from V by Thomas Pynchon, 1963

So this weekend I finally saw Lost in Translation and Bowling for Columbine, a little late, I know, I know. Both were powerful films, and I was struck by the beautiful camerawork of Lost, so rarely seen in modern Hollywood. Just the fact that the camera remained focused on one shot for more than five seconds at a time almost gave me a heart attack. As for Columbine, it was strongly written and well-conceived, and I expected no less from Michael Moore

A beautiful thing, the Christopher Walken soundboard, A jewel of flash, Walking on By Did you know that the killer comic, Opus, is back?!? Well you should have. Here is an archive of the recent Opus strips on Waxy

"I ran out of gas. I had a flat tire. I didn't have enough money for cab fare. My tux didn't come back from the cleaners. An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake! A terrible flood! Locusts! It wasn't my fault, I swear to God...!"

—Belushi as Jake Blues in The Blues Brothers, 1980

John Belushi died on this day in 1982. The talented actor and comedian died after shooting up a "speedball", a mixture of cocaine and heroin, which slowed his breathing and finally caused complete respiratory failure. Comedian Robin Williams was one of the last people to see him alive.

Cathy Smith, former back-up singer for The Band turned addict and drug dealer, was Belushi's companion during the 24 hours that preceeded his death, injecting him several times during an all night drugfest because Belushi was fearful of needles but liked the high. She was later convicted of manslaughter and served 18 months in prison.

On March 9th, Comedian and close friend Dan Ackroyd, dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans, led the funeral procession on a motorcycle.

Belushi was 33 years old.

"I've found blogging to be a low-impact activity, mildly narcotic and mostly quite convivial, but the thing I've most enjoyed about it is how it never fails to underline the fact that if I'm doing this I'm definitely not writing a novel—that is, if I'm still blogging, I'm definitely still on vacation. I've always known, somehow, that it would get in the way of writing fiction, and that I wouldn't want to be trying to do both at once. The image that comes most readily to mind is that of a kettle failing to boil because the lid's been left off."

—William Gibson on why he stopped blogging.

From THE MASTER:

"I took the family alarm clock and went into the spare bedroom that night, and set it for an hour and a half. And thereafter when I was working on a story I would waken myself every hour and a half through the night—force myself to wake up, think of the story, try to solve it, and even as I was thinking about it I would fall back asleep. And in the morning there would be a solution for that particular story problem. Now, that's penetrating the sub-conscious in my opinion. It's penetrating it in a way that I don't think they'll be able to do any better, thirty centuries from now."

—A.E. Van Vogt, 1979 via oivas



Slan, the masterwork of Alienation by A.E. Van Vogt, 1953 cover

"Man, I want to die, is all," cried Ploy.
"Don't you know," said Dahoud, "that life is the most precious possession you have?"
"Ho, ho," said Ploy through his tears. "Why?"
"Because," said Dahoud, "without it, you'd be dead."

—excerpt from V by Thomas Pynchon, 1963

Yesterday, grey clouds and rain. Today, more of the same. The warm temperatures are melting the two feet plus of snow that's been building up over the last 2 months. A pile of soaked and disintegrating cigarette butts has appeared near the trash can out by the front steps of the library. I saw some flowers poking their heads out of the earth two days ago.

Silly flowers. It's too soon.

Very interesting photo-essay via things.mag amazing ascii movies the clash of the titans via sachs report very original, comic-based idea for a blog, Sedalina nice collection of tasty backgrounds at citrus moon Haven't checked out Le Show? Do it now via harry shearer dot com the worst comic ever! Gakulan Rider...

Is it Christopher Walken or isn't it? via biz stone

Meaningless Highway of Modern Life now widened to accomodate your fat, bloated SUV

In the interest of brutal honesty I must admit *push off, you wankers!* that I like to listen to/view hot pics of Shakira Hey, I can't help it! She's pretty and has a stunning voice. I don't care what you say. Go home and play in your sandbox.

Rare Punk Rock covers from around the world! via memepool

"The leaders of the nation had fixed their gaze so long upon the illusions of a false prosperity that they had forgotten what America looked like. Now they saw it—saw its newness, its raw crudeness, and its strength—and turned their shuddering eyes away..."

—excerpt from You Can't Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe, 1940

Excellent bio on Bill Gates What to smoke if you can't get those nuggets. Also sissyfight if you've got the balls for it.
Links via sachs report

Winner of the first Oscar for Best Picture in 1929, "Wings"
I've actually seen this picture and it's pretty good.