Saturday, November 23, 2019

Saturday Evening Spree

from Porcile
“a spree of perceptions”
 Julia Kristeva

“…a dream of/exegetic sleep.”
Nathanial Mackey

“…dream of electric sheep…”
Philip K. Dick

Movie recommendations: Man with a Movie Camera by Dziga Vertov, La Jetee by Chris Marker; Porcile, written and directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini. 

Movies: "Film is a disease. When it infects your bloodstream, it takes over as the Number One hormone; it bosses the enzymes; directs your pineal gland; plays Iago to your psyche. As with heroin, the antidote for film is more film"
---Frank Capra


Lit genre: urban fiction. I’ve read plenty of other books with a lot more action, but this one is pretty good with the dialogue and the customizing of the English language.

“Grown ass men don’t whisper. Two niggas whispering--that’s some sneak shit,” he explained.

Another locution I enjoyed:  “I’m getting my nails and toes did in a few.”




Misc lit: TSEliot was right about a whimper instead of a bang, but he was wrong about the month April, for the fact is November and February are coholders of the title cruelest. 

The wound of existence, the joy of existence: If you can get past the toxic parts, Friedrich Nietzsche is quite amusing at times. Beyond Good and Evil had me laughing out loud often.  I loved it when he referred to “Asia and its little pushed out peninsula Europe.” Europeans are so full of themselves when in fact they’re like a recreational vehicle popout!

New York Times crossword puzzle 1003 by Ricky Cruz: excellent!

My favorite thing I like about owning a car is going to drive-thrus.

Our president looks almost as though created by a cubist God.

In the periphery I saw the name Archie Shepp, so he’s who I’m listening to right now.


Saturday, November 2, 2019

The Greatest Weekend of the Year!

An extra hour of sleep!

This week I sent out another batch of poems to eagerly awaiting (LOL) magazines. Now a few days of R&R...

First, a big launch: the new Neil Novello website. Check it out.here.

Then, one eff, two ens: Stunned I was, when not laughing out loud, by Michael Hofmann’s poem about President Trump: The Resident. New York Review of Books has the poem locked on its website, restricted to subscribers. In the best interests of the country it should be available to all. C’mon NYRB, de-elite yourself for a minute, behave like the force you think you are.