“To say Amelia Gray belongs in the hilariously inventive hallows of Ann Quin and Rikki Ducornet would be to miss her light. This book is gleaming evidence of the author as a trophy case unto herself, wrought of magic equally surprising, wicked, giddy, and loaded with a megaton of Boom.”— Blake Butler
“Amelia Gray’s Museum of the Weird is a cabinet of curiosities—a talking armadillo, a serial killer named God, a woman who amputates her toes for dinner, a man married to a paring knife—this collection of stories is so good and funny and wondrous that I couldn’t look away from her dark and curious imagination.” — Michael Kimball
'Museum of the Weird is a catalog of possible literatures, the emulation of which might enrich future works of literature, but I’m afraid she won’t have the courage to keep going if she doesn’t attract enough readers to bolster her courage, so I’m recruiting, and I don’t even feel bad about it, because I think literary criticism is mostly dead, and I think the highest calling of the Internet book reviewer is consumer advocacy.' -- Kyle Minor, The Faster Times
Amelia Gray Museum of the Weird
Fiction Collective 2
'A monogrammed cube appears in your town. Your landlord cheats you out of first place in the annual Christmas decorating contest. You need to learn how to love and care for your mate—a paring knife. These situations and more reveal the wondrous play and surreal humor that make up the stories in Amelia Gray’s stunning collection of stories: Museum of the Weird.
'Acerbic wit and luminous prose mark these shorts, while sickness and death lurk amidst the humor. Characters find their footing in these bizarre scenarios and manage to fall into redemption and rebirth. Museum of the Weird invites you into its hallways, then beguiles, bewitches, and reveals a writer who has discovered a manner of storytelling all her own.' -- FC2
from Mud Luscious
There's no reason. There's no reason why you couldn't. There's no reason it's not possible you couldn't possibly finish your mild cottage cheese breakfast, buy a ticket, take that train to the edge of the world, squeeze your eyes shut, dig the wheels into moist world-edge earth and make a dramatic plunge off the side, your friends and family waving good-bye as at the end of a parade when all that's left is sandwich wrappers and the rest of a long day, sun streaming through all the windows and still a cold room no matter how much light hits every corner, even if you take the curtains and flip them over the curtain rods so there's nothing impeding the procession of light— that kind of lazy afternoon where someone in the house mutters a promise to make banana bread but you know the bananas will spoil and cultivate bacteria, becoming dangerous like the kitchen counter you washed in your younger years first with warm water and later on with the stronger stuff, ammonia making you dizzy behind your allergen-free mask, a boiling water rinse and a layer of bleach, just a bit of the stuff mixing together into what you hear is dangerous but secretly know is a chemical so powerful that certain entities don't want you to hear about it, and by "certain entities" you mean the government, these powers in power have other plans for you but you're one step ahead, you and your sleeves with the tricks in them and your special diet, the cottage cheese diet, the diet with cottage cheese, and as you eat the cottage cheese you hold very gently on your tongue the cottages and the people inside the cottages and the people are screaming.
There will be sense
And then, though they had a choice, the doctors put a generator in my heart, and they gave me a magnetic band to wear on my wrist which I must pass over my heart when the old feelings begin again. Arnold, they say, you are certainly a special man. The following is true:
1. Because of a history of powerful migraines accompanied by the trilling melody of seizure, I have certain precautions installed by man in my body preventing me from biting off my tongue
2. A side effect of the migraines is a disorder called Alice in Wonderland which causes worlds to complicate outside of my control
3. The word "special" often carries both positive and negative connotation
----Jeannie serves me tostadas at the café, the gold cross on her necklace (warm, no doubt, from her skin and the heat of the deep fryer) dangling close to my sweet iced tea. It's the first thing I see as I come out of the dangerous haze, and I feel small and close enough to the cross to make a leap for it. I'd like to dig my fingernails into the soft cooling gold and balance on the arm of it as on a tree branch, holding the chain for support.
Amelia Gray 'Large Hadron Collider'
Amelia Gray 'Random Hookups'
'I wanted to avoid what is usually done in terms of names, for third-person autobiographical fiction, which is to use "made-up" names like Michelle or Dan or to use the author's name, for example Philip Roth. Using Haley Joel Osment and Dakota Fanning avoids those two choices in a manner that seems funny and, to some degree, exciting, to me, and also like I'm not interested in attempting to influence the reader into "losing themselves" into a fantasy world, that there is the "understanding" that the book exists in concrete reality, as something that came from my brain. ...
'I feel that the characters are specific and that most people are not like the characters in Richard Yates. I would say that the more I know a person the more unique they seem to me, and that this, I think, has been true of every person I've met. And that it is the same with books, in my experience. I don't think anyone is a stereotype of anyone else, I honestly think every person is different, and know that every person is literally different, and that I want to view characters in books in that way also.' -- Tao Lin, Huffington Post
Tao Lin Richard Yates
'“Nobody wants to discuss how lonely life is,” a character in Richard Yates quips. “Everyone is more interested in toothpaste.” Yet Tao Lin’s newest novel appears to be just that: a stoic mediation on loneliness. Haley Joel Osment, a recent NYU graduate, and Dakota Fanning, a high school student, meet over the Internet and become somewhat infatuated with each other (ignoring the fact that they are named after child actors is your best choice; none of the ways you could interpret that quirk would add much to the story). Their relationship moves along tweely: They speak nonsense to each other, they shoplift in tandem, and they have strangely unsexual sex involving lemon juice. But this overly cute hipster romance soon deteriorates.
What Haley recognizes in Dakota as mere unhappiness turns out to be a darker problem. What Dakota sees as benevolence in Haley turns out to be his need to exert emotional authority over her. Thankfully, Lin injects some comedy into the moody courtship, often through Dakota’s demented mother. Lin’s prose is sometimes described as sparse, but that word doesn’t quite do his work justice. His lean and often maniacal sentences propel the work forward with a slanted momentum. What first seems like a stock tale of romance gone sour evolves into a parable about the fickleness of human desire and the futility of detachment when it comes to love.' -- Time Out (New York)
“Kailey just called and asked me to hang out with her,” said Dakota Fanning on Gmail chat. “I said I can’t leave my house because I don’t want to put on pants anymore and she got angry and went away.”
“Good,” said Haley Joel Osment. “When are you coming.”
“I don’t know. It might not be until July when I can come.”
“Okay,” said Haley Joel Osment. “July is in like 4 days.”
“No, I mean like around my birthday because then I can convince her to let me go for my birthday. I really want to see you in New York. I should try to come this week. I can’t lie anymore. I have to try to convince my mom.”
“Ask her. Tell her she puts stress on herself by trying to control you instead of giving you freedom which is what America is about, freedom.”
“I laughed and drooled a little,” said Dakota Fanning.
“Tell her American and Canadian soldiers are fighting for your freedom and she is taking that God-given right away from you. Does she believe in God?” A few weeks ago Haley Joel Osment searched Dakota Fanning’s mother’s name on the internet and found a comment she had made on a message board thanking American and Canadian troops for fighting terrorism. He had showed Dakota Fanning who had said “What is this shit, I didn’t know about this.”
“Yes, she does,” said Dakota Fanning. “I want to go to New York Friday. Do you think Ana would do anything Friday? It will be easier to convince her if I say we’re meeting Ana.”
“Yes,” said Haley Joel Osment. “She will.”
“She seemed okay with Ana,” said Dakota Fanning. “I keep staring at Richard Yates’ face on the back of The Easter Parade but not having any reaction to it. Just looking.” Haley Joel Osment said “Party girl” which was a term they had for people who did not speak in a quiet monotone and were not severely detached. Inanimate objects and situations and animals and boys could also be party girls. Dakota Fanning said if they wrote a book about a party girl called Party Girl they would be rich. “I just searched it on Amazon and there’s like 4 books and 3 movies called Party Girl,” she said. “Party Babe would make us the most rich probably.”
Haley Joel Osment said “Slut Babe.”
“Slut Party,” said Dakota Fanning.
“Slut Party is good,” said Haley Joel Osment. “Just bring a tape recorder and hang out with anyone then transcribe.”
“When I come to New York we should just go to bars and record drunken sluts,” said Dakota Fanning.
“A fly keeps flying by me, I feel dirty,” said Haley Joel Osment. “It just landed on my crotch and walked around.”
“It wants to have sex with you,” said Dakota Fanning.
“Your mom ate crab fried with cheese. She is fucked.”
“I know,” said Dakota Fanning. “She is very fucked.”
Haley Joel Osment typed “freedom” in all capital letters with nineteen exclamation marks after it. “Scream that at your mom sometimes,” he said. “Am I coming Thursday?”
“I don’t know, are you? Maybe I can convince her to let you come Thursday then stay the night and go back with me on the train Friday so I’m not riding there alone.” Dakota Fanning said the neighbor’s child was crying. “It begs for ice cream every day and then its parents beat it on the porch and then it rides a bike around and screams and cries. It’s happened 4 times.” Haley Joel Osment said that reminded him of Lemming. He said he wanted to watch movies with Dakota Fanning. “I just want to walk around with you at night and sometimes ass and crotch rape you,” he said.
“Okay. We can do that.”
“When,” said Haley Joel Osment.
“I don’t know. Soon. I will talk to fried Nicholas Sparks cheese beast.”
“That is good,” said Haley Joel Osment. “Cheese beast.”
“I kept looking at ‘cheese beast’ and ignoring the rest.”
“Me too,” said Haley Joel Osment.
“Let’s refer to her as cheese beast now,” said Dakota Fanning. “Like tape man or headbutt girl.”
“Sometimes we can call other people cheese beast too,” said Haley Joel Osment.
Dakota Fanning said the name of a person and said the person was a cheese beast.
“Cheese beast is good,” said Haley Joel Osment.
“Cheese beasts like anything in nugget form. Nuggets is a scary word. My brother has a bottle of ear piercing cleaner in his bathroom. I’m confused.”
“He pierced his groin,” said Haley Joel Osment.
“Probably,” said Dakota Fanning.
They drew cheese beasts using Microsoft Paint and sent them to each other. “They are both just blobs without limbs,” said Dakota Fanning. “I’m laughing. Cheese beast. Fuck my mom’s home.” She went offline. “My mom is home early because she’s afraid of a flood warning in the area,” she said a few minutes later.
“Tell her I majored in flood management at NYU and can protect her Thursday.”
“She just went to look at the river,” said Dakota Fanning. “She took Aladdin and a big flashlight with her. A very big railroad flashlight. I went down to the basement and saw my cat sleeping in a box on the washing machine. She’s always in the basement.”
“Your cat is good,” said Haley Joel Osment.
“It’s a small Gatorade tray. It looks silly. I laughed at her. She stared at me and then licked herself. I hope it floods. I’m bored here. Last time it flooded we parked on the side of the highway and stared for like two hours. It was good.”
Tao Lin reads from 'Richard Yates' in Kent
"special galley" re Richard Yates + "box of drafts"
JohnnyFoxDarko reads from 'Richard Yates'
'Writer, DJ, and French sound artist, Jean-Yves Leloup has followed the evolution of electronic music from its first appearance in Europe at the end of the eighties. A fortunate witness to the electronic scene, he is also interested in all questions relative to contemporary art and digital technologies. With Eric Pajot, Leloup founded and maintains Radio Mentale, a DJ and sound-artist duo based in Paris. It can be seen as a Sound-System influencing on the airwaves, clubs, urban spaces, web, galleries & art centers. From 1992 and for ten years Radio Mentale has been broadcasting their own cultshow in Paris on Radio FG (also broadcasted on Swiss station Couleur 3 and Japanese Shibuya FM). They work now on very different mediums : environmental pieces for contemporary art exhibitions, movie soundtracks, sound installations, specific sound pieces for radio shows, websites, CDs or urban spaces, multimedia movie performances and also sound-design for bars, hotels & restaurants.' -- lespressesdureel
Jean-Yves Leloup Digital Magma
Preface by David Toop
'The emergence of electronic music with its new generation of artists and digital technologies has disturbed the world music landscape. From the musicians’ angle, since the end of the eighties, techno, house, and their multiple subgenres, have brought in a new breath, sometimes sweeping aside the order established by rock and pop, and imposing new game rules: ephemeral and shared creations, widespread sampling, DJ rule, the practice of mix and remix, new and micro-economy. But that aesthetic revolution, which ended up contaminating most music during the nineties, is not only limited to artists. The democratization of the digital, of the means of diffusion, and of exchange and listening, transforms the relationship between the audience and music. Today the MP3 generation, beyond the simple question of piracy, invents new codes and practices which have shaken our way of “consuming” culture.' -- Sternberg Press
from the French edition
Et il y a cette silhouette, là-bas, au loin. Celle du DJ. Il surplombe la foule de quelques mètres, mais ne semble guère attirer l'attention. L'homme a l'air concentré sur ses deux platines vinyles. Il relève parfois la tête, histoire de suivre le mouvement global de la foule. S'il se contente de jouer les disques des autres, il orchestre idéalement la soirée, modulant la musique selon l'humeur de l'instant. Pas vraiment artiste, ni même animateur, il semble faire office de passeur entre public et musiciens. Entre les quelques centaines de personnes rassemblées ce soir-là, et les milliers d'artistes qui oeuvrent, en amont, à cette culture de synthèse.
Le DJ est aux platines. Derrière une paroi de verre, dans une cabine, au fin fond d'un club d'ici ou d'ailleurs. Sur une scène, dans un bar de nuit ou, pourquoi pas encore, aux côtés d'autres artistes, danseurs, musiciens ou plasticiens, lors d'un spectacle ou d'une représentation quelconque. Il est en somme au coeur d'un événement, dont il doit assurer, en direct, la bande-son, c'est-à-dire une certaine unité, une atmosphère, et plus encore une temporalité, à l'intérieur de laquelle chacun est invité à s'immerger. Sous ses doigts, les titres s'enchaînent, les accords se fondent, les rythmes se chevauchent. Fluides, les disques semblent émerger l'un dans l'autre, comme une seule et même composition menée selon un tempo régulier et dont la durée paraît infinie. Si les meilleurs DJs savent travailler cette idée du flux, suite inépuisable d'accords et de percussions, ils excellent aussi dans l'art de la collision. Un simple geste suffit alors à faire surgir un tempo à contretemps, une sonorité criarde, une texture inattendue, une pause inopinée, l'idéal étant qu'ils parviennent à orchestrer les ruptures et les fragments.
La pratique du mix, ou le le talent du DJ à enchaîner et fusionner les oeuvres, est l'un des signes les plus emblématiques de notre culture actuelle. Loin de l'idée d'interprétation ou de représentation attachée au concert et à son rituel, il s'agit de faire dialoguer les oeuvres. De créer durant quelques minutes, ou un court instant, une zone d'échange, un moment de magie et de fusion entre deux disques, semblables ou opposés. De rendre naturel le passage de l'un à l'autre. D'exposer leur antagonisme ou encore de créer une suite narrative, ou pourquoi pas symbolique, entre les titres. En somme : cultiver l'art du lien et de la transition.
Cinemix "Gerry" : Gus Van Sant remixed by RadioMentale
12h00, 16 Rue Martel
Jean-Yves Leloup Eric Pajot @ Festival EXIT
p.s. Hey. It's Friday already. Weird. ** Bollo, Oh, awesome, thank you! Matinee in a bit. Everyone, courtesy of artist and d.l. supreme Bollo, here's an episode of the cable/ Arte series 'Into the night with ... ' that pairs and follows/ tracks Gaspar Noe and Harmony Korine, two of contemporary film's unparalleled gods. A total must watch, surely. Dude, seriously, thanks a million. That's insane. ** The Dreadful Flying Glove, Oh, right, thank you, duh, 'Armenia City in the Sky'. The treated vocal screwed with my memory bank. I was thinking Family. Sugar used to do a great rousing live version, and I think Pollard has whipped it out on stage occasionally. I need to download those Speedy Keen albums. I used to love them. Well, that's very true about the Wobble part of life ideally. Day, patent law, ... most curious. ** David Ehrenstein, Yeah, Breillat's penning of 'And the Ship Sails On' really surprised me. I would never have imagined. ** Pilgarlic, Good question on the allure of the abandoned. The reasons I come up with are all personal and tied to childhood era wondering about and investigations of empty dwellings in my old neighborhood. I most want Bradford to cover Spirit, maybe 'Aren't You Glad', but if he nixes that, I'll try 'ACitS' as backup. ** Alan, Breillat's in your novel? How very interesting. I don't know Breillat's politics. Left, clearly. As Steevee said, Sotos is a big fan of Dworkin, so I doubt that reference was a slur. Sujatha, right, of course, and the mystery person, hmmm. Interesting. Do share whatever you can share from their reader reports, if you feel like it. And thanks a lot for the tip on that spooky house. I'm so violently there. At least I won't be totally deprived, phew. ** Misanthrope, Oh, great, about the check. A start's a start. Very good. 14th to the 18th, gotcha. I'll be there, a little lagged but there. ** Kiddiepunk, Ah, thanks, man! What's happening on the 3rd floor? I've barely been out of my cave in days. Let's talk, do something. You still into maybe seeing Bret Ellis do his thing? I need to re-find the date and time of that. ** Allesfliesst, Hey. French genetic codes can make excellent ovens, yes! ** Marc Vallee, Wow, hi, Marc! It's a rare and privileged moment when you pop in to say hello. You good? I'm good. Pray tell. ** _Black_Acrylic, Hey, B. Happy to pass along the deadline stuff. Everyone, as you know by now, _Black_Acrylic aka the artistic whirlwind known as Ben Robinson, co-edits Yuck 'n Yum, one of the very best literary and arts zines in existence. Well, he reports that the deadline for the next YnY is fast approaching (October 1st) , and I urge you to submit your fine works. You can find out how to do that by going here. ** Kevin Killian, Hey, KK! How did it go? Will your ultra-tasty sounding Margot Kidder-centric speech land somewhere where I can devour it, I'm hoping? Laura Albert, ugh. She's still skulking around book-related events? Nasty. I haven't seen Mary Gaitskill since our thing in Buffalo either. Or 'either' until you saw her again. She sounds as testy and marvelous as ever. Accu-jacs, wow, yes. I think I once had what barely passed for sex with a guy while he was having sex with an Accu-Jac. No, I did. I was just being shy. Dying for your Steward review, of course. Thank you for gracing here, my pal, and mega-love to you and Dodie. ** Bernard Welt, I need to double down on getting and reading that Steward bio. It's getting to be like this year's '2666'. ** Steevee, Hey. Man, you're not sounding self-pitying in the slightest. I certainly share my problems here at the drop of a hat. That's part and parcel. Maybe your eyes and the new prescription just need a day or two to reach a compromise? ** Killer Luka, Dude! That is such incredible and incredibly exciting news! Wowzer! At last and finally with hooting and hollering. January, cool. What will you show? Do you know yet? Jimi's great in addition to his great eye for genius. I'm so happy for you, pal. So happy for me and everyone else too! What an awesome way to go home! Fucking yeah, that is just the best news I've heard in, like, forever! ** Changeling, Hey. Yeah, Blogger is trying/ starting to institute these design changes, most of which are a complete disaster, or at least the ones on my end. Yeah, I totally understand and relate to what you mean about writing a novel and the way it seems to open up and concentrate within new or normally skimmed areas of the brain. That makes complete sense to me, and you can really get to love that. Getting to go there can feel like most of the reason to write fiction at length, or it can after you get through the headachey and taxing strangeness of working your imagination and attention span into that degree of lather. It really is kind of like LSD, but without the passivity of just being taken places. It's like a strenuous drugginess-cum-sharpness, but that makes it sound more unpleasant than it is. I don't know. Your band? That's cool. What kind of band? Songless but ... what? A-okay about the France trip delay, obviously. I just hope I'm here when it happens. ** Im not an asbo im your next Prime minister, Well, yeah, I'm all or mostly about non-chronological narratives too, I guess. Or chronology as sleight of hand maybe. The novel I'm working on has a time machine on its mind and on the tip of its tongue. Oh, Luka outed herself as the Douglas Booth purveyor. You saw that, right? Thanks, bud. ** Oscar B, What's London like? Is it all shiny and Tesla Coil-like like people say? Things seem pretty okay here. Big strike here yesterday. Be glad you weren't traveling then. They're turning the heat on in the Recollets today due to the impending temperature drop. Oh, yeah, sure, let me ... Everyone, the great and powerful Oscar B aka the great and powerful artist Benedetta De Alessi is doing a no doubt mind-warping performance in London tonight as part of an event called 'Wild, Wicked and Wanton', and if you're a stone's throw from London or closer, you simply must attend, orders of the Coop. Here's the venue, address, time, and further info. Make haste. See you ... tomorrow, Sunday? Strum everyone's veins with your fingers tonight, O-ster. ** Jose, I'm with Bill. The first image, definitely. It's a knock-out. Man, these recent works of your really something special, Jose. Major hat tip. ** Bill, Hey. Those new pieces sound really exciting! The calligraphic with assists thing gave me a little shiver, not to mention the 'slapped on top of a growth process' thing, wow. A trailer or two, please, at your earliest convenience. Really, those sound incredibly interesting. ** Davidpeak, Yeah, me too, I think, on the relentlessness doubled front. Especially when the thing itself isn't particularly lengthy, time- or pages-wise. Cool if you can get to the New Museum thing. It would be really nice to meet. Thanks a lot. ** Ken Baumann, Ken! Wow, that Paul Sharits film is pretty amazing. I don't know Sharits' work at all. That'll end straight away. He seems ripe for a blog post, let me see. That way I could learn and share at the same time. Anyway, thanks a lot, Ken. Looks like a total find. Awesome about the 'Mooney' props. Yeah, we're finally nearing its official pub date, right? Sure, of course it's cool to use that line by me. I just wish it flowed better ha ha. How about 'The sheer greatness of Higgs' novel calls the capacity of the word greatness into question.'? Oh, I don't know, either one. Poquito Mas ... you're tearing me apart, Lisa! ** Inthemostpeculiarway, Hey. Maybe Marilyn Manson's new chunkiness is affecting his brain. I guess it doesn't work that way. Blue eyed blondes' superiority can be positively shameful. No, I still have a ways to go on my novel, but I'll be in obsessive high gear now until it's finished, which means that the end is nearish. I'm hoping to have it ready for a final polish by the time I go to New York if I possibly can. Yeah, your SA friend sounds pretty troubled. Is she the type who would be amenable to hints re: medications and the professionals who prescribe them? Hope your fingers got straightened out. 'Amphigorey 2' is a bit of a letdown, it's true. I guess 2's often are. My two days were so inseparable I'll just mush them together into one. Novel work for the most part: sitting, squinting, thinking, typing, deleting, typing, squinting, etc. I only left my room to buy food and cigarettes. Still no money problem solution, but I think today might bring some ease if someone's promise wasn't hollow. Yesterday there was a big national strike and protests and stuff here. Sarkozy tried to lie through his teeth and say the turnout was poor and that the strikers lost and he won, but no one believed him, and every report on the numbers except his says it was massive. I watched my weekly episode of 'Master Chef', and it was typical and goodish. Last night, Blogger started phasing in this new system for editing blog posts, and it's a total nightmare of bugs and stupid, time consuming problems. It's so bad that I really don't know how I can keep doing this blog if that system really takes over. I went over to the Blogger message board to complain bitterly along with practically every person who has a Blogger blog, and the hatred for the new system is so total that I'm really hoping Blogger just kills it. Anyway, I spent a couple of hours there blasting Blogger and supporting other blasters. 'Homme au Bain' finally opened here on Wednesday. It got an extremely bad review in Le Monde and a total rave in Liberation. Uh, I think that's extent of my past two days that is worth mentioning. Go Friday! How's yours? ** Chilly Jay Chill, Hey. I've never read Junot Diaz, which is weird now that I realize that. So, no opinion, although I certainly like what you said he said. Have you read him? Any thoughts on what would make for a good entrance into his work? ** Nb, Well, there's that spooky house in the mid-Village that Alan pointed out. You game? I'm totally up for a spooky house centered road trip or something if someone has a car. More than up. Yeah, Blogger's making changes. I don't know what's going on. I'm just trying to stay on the horse or whatever. ** Frank Jaffe, Hey, Frank. Cool that you'll be in NYC. We can meet at last after that failed Paris sojourn last year. A cheap hotel in NYC? Really? Maybe we can try to find the best cold sesame noodle in the city. Sure, I like Argento. How could one not? That trilogy sounds awesome, for sure. Good luck with the studying, man. ** Laurabeth, Wait, there's a new guy now maybe? You're so wild and wanton, ha ha. Not hardly. It sounds enticing to me, but I'm a romantic, don't you know. ** L@rstonovich, I wish I wasn't so bugged by what Pasolini made or didn't out of '120 Days ... ' because I'm sure it's the hell of a film everyone says. My loyalty to the novel was probably my undoing. Still, yeah, it's one to celebrate. Glad the mystery collab is underway. The mystery has thickened. And I'm really glad you're writing, man. I'm good, writing. ** Dorna, Hey, Dorna! Oh, thank you thank you, my friend! It wouldn't have been close to a bounty without your gift. Miss you, pal. Come visit. I mean in the real world as well as here. Lots and lots of love. ** Brendan, Crossroads of the World was really happening and Patchouli scented at one time. Facial scruff sounds good, just don't curtail it into designer stubble. That might just be me. I read that crazy wild rave review of the new Das Racist on Pitchfork and was wondering. I'll get it. I like Die Antwoord. They're fun, no? That's good enough. They're collaborating with someone interesting soon. I can't remember who. So, my thumbs are on the upward end of sideways re: them, I guess. ** Done. Three books I've read and can now recommend to you today. Pretty simple. Enjoy your days, and I'll see you at the beginning of the next one.