Friday, December 7, 2007


I only have a few words about M.R.S.A. A number of news reports have discussed this. From my limited exposure I believe the state is on the right track. Like you all imagine there are some real pieces of work here. Some real pigs. Yes, there have been some instances of but keep clean, don’t share the body and it’s functions and you’ll be cool. Again, easier said than done.

Been reading some fantastic work. In Our Strange Gardens – Michael Quint. Simply breath taking. I loved the cover and the fact it’s bilingual. Beautiful production. That’s nothing compared to what’s inside. A tribute love story funny as fuck, sad as hell. Rip your guts and give you toast & honey. One sentence that stops your heart. A risk to read in prison. A must to be any kind of human.

Hunger by Knut Hamson. “Truth telling does not involve seeing both sides or objectivity; truth telling is unselfish inwardness”, Antonio Machado says, the writer should listen to himself and “ought to overtake by surprising some of the phrases of his inward conversations with himself, distinguishing the living voice from the dead echoes.” Tight, huh? Hamsun was diagnosed with terminal tuberculosis, 3 months to live. Friends raised money to ship him home to Norway to die. This guy takes a train to New York on top of the fuck’in locomotive the whole trip. His mouth open gulping air. HELLO! Dude, how big are your balls? So all this fresh fast speeding air on top of a locomotive – it’s not like his doctor goes “Knut, you’re a dead man. Go gulp some air on top of a speeding locomotive”. Who is this guy? Superman? The patient declares himself cured. Didn’t go back to Norway. Never a trouble with tuberculosis. So where did I discover him? Who else? – Henry Miller. Kate Millet’s boyfriend. Actually she dug him. Why go to college to write? Get a fatal disease come up with your own cure & write an amazing minute by second account of madness & starvation. Truly something not for the Paris Hilton crowd. Even in the weak library there are some sleepers. Also been catching up on Jules Verne Journey to the Center of…Around the World…. Fun. Solid storytelling. Got some Twain waiting in the wings. This Huck book was published in 1884. Cool.

So Kelly forwarded info about you guys. Not who you are but where. I’m impressed. We have some solid repeats. 75%. For me what’s so cool is the 2 from India. 3 from the Phillipines. Sweden. Turkey. Portugal. That’s so amazing. Small world. 6 from Germany & Italy. 11 from UK. I wish we’d get some from Ireland. Then a ton from here and Canada. Might I ask how you found this? As much as I live in a totally unsexy place I find this immensely sexy. Not sex sexy but kind of cool sexy. Like Rolling Stone sexy. Patti Smith sexy. Who are you from India? I have a dear friend from the North, Sandeep. A few dudes I knew from the Philippines. Oh, well. I’m sounding insane. Nah – just thank you. I’m really happy. Hope it’s working for you. Nice to know we’re not alone. That is the hard part of life. The silence. The “there’s no one here”, am I even alive?” “can any one hear me?” You get a lot of that here.
And here comes the big circle. Remember the first couple of entries? Write. Write a friend. A parent. A child. A prisoner. We’re losing contact. I know I just said we’re together & now I’m saying we’re losing contact. I mean personal contact. Letters. Phone calls. Knock at your door. I love human contact but hate stupidity. So I write. & you too. I get great letters. I give great letters. Now let’s be happy. To wrap it up – congrats Chris Martin on your book. (American Music rght? )
Thank you all for reading. If you’re in the Milwaukee area check out Highlonesome & Reed Avoided. 357 String Band, Holy Mary Motor Cycle Club & the Trusty Knives. Great music from a town that was made famous by a beer. A delicious beer. PBR. Even if you’re in Chicago come on over. & thanks again Kelly.


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