David St Lawrence is opening my eyes to the possibilities of the blogosphere. Visit him, get his book, or talk to the guru. The longest tail is the answer to business in today's market. I will be looking into this. My only problem is funds for creating a publishing service. Maybe, David has the answer. I have to get these books I'm writing out there. Guru Lawrence may have the answer, or at the very least, the best marketing guess I have heard.
David, if you're reading, will you take THE WHOPPER STRATEGIES on board with QUICKSAND? Can we make some sort of partnership? Talk to me, brother. Where are you? Oh, Laurence, you're my only hope...
Funnily enough, Mike (the guy from the Exercise tips) gave me a great TAGLINE for STRATEGIES. Dilbert meets 1984. A humorous, light-hearted approach to the dangers of corporate culture. I thought that was great and told him so. Then we continued with the shoot; him and I doing push-ups on this new reality show called THE GYM. It airs on the Fitness Channel in October.
But, back to the point at hand. OH, LAURENCE...
The dream continues. Now I see some stairs. Thank you for sharing your expertise. Let me know when you're prepared to take on other books to BENT CROW PRESS.
Mike's Exercise Tip #1
Watch video hereEach day I go into the WG, MIKE makes me smile from the wist side to the east. His grassroots approach to working out, humor, and charisma are a welcome addition to LOGGERS UNITED (Lou, for short). He makes every exercise tip an experience for exercise enthusiasts, reality buffs, or friendly visitors alike. Each day he advises me about calorie intake, and the best ways to build muscle mass. It is a great honor that he has agreed to share some of his athletic wisdom with the world.
Governator watch out. There's a new dog in town. He can put you down in a heartbeat. He knows pushups. He is an elegant machine.
Rant n' Roll
Slush piles accrue. They get monstrous.
Publishing is about money. Got to earn those bucks somehow. No one's buying poetry books. Maybe, like an English student at Georgia State, because his professor says, "Oh, check out Burt Kristbaum. He rocks." Meanwhile, Burt Kristbaum is his buddy from back in the day.
That's how poetry is sold these days.
Poorly.
The question is will poetry make bank ever again? Will there be more thought put into
poetry collections to make them function as entertainment as well as art?
This is where a book like Harryette Mullen's "Sleeping With the Dictionary" succeeds so well. It has a title that is dope, plus a series of poems that are unified in their process and action. It’s a great book. Really a textbook on how to write poetry and have fun with it. A must have.
It's not as good as WHOLE MILK though. That book is the shiz nit.
No doubt about it. Pure entertainment and fun. Helps you dream. The world needs that. The world needs poets who dream. I need poets who dream.I like the cover of Mullen’s DICTIONARY. It's okay. I guess that's the extent of thought that goes into putting out poetry books. Make the cover look good.
Man, make the cover look fun? Are you kidding? Make the poetry fun. For shiz nit sakes. Make it dance!
That balance between entertainment and language is the key to making poetry marketable again.
Then we segway into Kyle's note about FENCE and naked chiquitas on the cover.
Now don’t get me wrong; poetry can function as art, but it is also entertainment. People don’t like poetry. I don’t write poetry. People are really into movies. Television is the bomb. (For as much as DYLAN hates it). This language. The commercial. The blatant commercialism that makes you cringe a bit. Mmmm. Good stuff. The things dreams are made of. Whole books. Pages of it. Right there.
The best poetry book I’ve read this year is Loren Goodman’s FAMOUS AMERICANS. That is the ultimate shiz nit. Loren, if you’re reading, I love that book and what you’re doing. This is a must have on anyone’s list for what will be the poetry that is a marker for a change in the art form. Then get WHOLE MILK.
These two books are the best I’ve read so far. They make me giddy and a little cartoony. They relate to both the literary mainstream and American culture in beautiful ways.
That contempo lit scene (CLS) will catch on. But right now they ain’t got shit on these books. The CLS are outdated and too much about ego. Nothing wrong with deconstruction. Nothing wrong with messing with a bit of language. But to do it, and have fun, and not care what who said what? Man, that is the shiz nit. That gets you the real accolades. People coming up to you. People buying your book. People saying you made a change in their lives. People coming out in droves, because the poetry makes you laugh, because it can be somber, because it can make you cry and fart at the same time.
This is what is missing, and what WHOLE MILK and FAMOUS AMERICANS bring to the table.
Let’s talk about Benjamin Franklin. No, it’s Super Mario Brothers. It’s transformers. It’s reality TV. It’s the mission to Mars. It’s cup of noodles on a Friday. JP says, “Let’s go to Peaches.”
I’m down. I like fried chicken. I head over. We take JP’s car. Subaru. Laid out. Morphine on the freak show. I try to flick it to the next station.
“Dude, what are you doing?” JP asks.
“How do you get to the next song?” I ask.
“Just flip it,” he says, and flips it.
Then we groove for a bit, driving down Lankershim. JP looks over at a car wash. He points up at the sign, “I like that script.”
I look up. It’s got that kind of Eastern feel.
“It’s Arabian and shit,” he says.
“Mmmm,” I say. “yeah.”
Then I am looking at signs. Pretty soon, there’s too many. I can’t even keep up. None of it matters. PEACHES does though. I like fried chicken. Catfish isn’t bad either.
I order up some catfish, mac and cheese, coleslaw, and mashed potatoes.
“Man, you’re hungry,” JP says.
“Yeah, I am,” I say.
Then we all sit around. The whole WG crew. It’s an MC, 2 writers, a comedian, an actress, and a filmmaker. We're a movie waiting to happen. A production crew ready to be made.
Does anyone realize this? Man, it’s good to be alive. To be rolling with this crew. To be eating catfish on a Friday. To know that artists are working so hard everywhere to bring their hearts to the table. To have fried chicken with other artists—no matter what they do. No matter who they are.
We are the gang. It multiplies upon itself for those who are willing to call themselves a part of this dream. The dream to create for themselves. The dream to connect to the world. The dream to change the way this planet people thumps.
“Is this possible?” a voice asks.
I tell the voice it is. It is possible. This thought. These hearts. They multiply. One on another. Small particles. Like dust. Orbiting. To make deserts and oceans and small valleys, where the conifers grow wild, and Tanto lifts a neck to hum:
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm (turn this sideways) ; >………
Don't sweat the technique, P.
I miss the Love in my TOES: Mars and Beyond
Spicy sandwich. She loves me. Spicy gumball. She loves me.I announce to my WG comrades that I will write a poem.
I call it LATECIA, I say.
Latecia laughs. She says,
L is for laughing...
Then it continues naturally
A is for "all together"
T is for today
E is for everlasting
C is for compassionate -compassionate, good one.
I is for incredible or insatiable
A is for apple -- no, I'm just joking. A is for (laughing) Amsterdam...all together...no, I have an a....Hmmm...A is for...A is for (looking at soda can)...admirable.
You work with that, she says.
Last night I thought about going to the coffee shop to post a little something on dreaming. I didn't though. I had writing to do. Other writing.
Here is what I have to say about dreaming. My TIPs on DREAMING. These are my PSA's (Public Service Announcements) for a new millenium and HAPPY HAPPY (like PIZZA
PIZZA but better, because it's about being full in a different way).Folks get up off the ground. DREAM. Do it. Now.
Take 2:
Folks this ground you lift yourself from it is uh...the place to begin the DREAM. Do it. Fo sho'!
Cut! Cam PL's to MS--P sitting in chair. Man with baseball hat approaches.
Man with Baseball Hat: Matte?
P: Yes.
CRew: Okay, we're rolling. Quiet on set. And...go!
PL and ZI to MCU-P sitting in chair.
P: Hey, I like monkeys. In my dreams. What up? Do it. NOW! Dreaming, that is--ah poodu! Can I do that again?
No, you can't.
That voice. I know that voice. Is it? It can't be? But, is it?
It is.
I couldn't believe it Burt Kristbaum. I mean he was a living legend.
B: I still am.
PL and HOLD on MS--Burt Kristbaum.
B: May I?
P: (VO) Please do.
B: Look folks dreaming is a very necessary thing for the beginning explorer. It can make or break an expedition. That is why my crews go theough an extensive training regiment that details dreaming and its relation to successful dowsing techniques, exploring the lower foundations, and moving in aerial space. Without this fundamental vision, success ratios for most explorers drops a considerable amount.
P: I knew what Burt was talking about. When I was a kid, I used to dream all the time. I would be like, "I want to go out with Gina Leathers," and then the next day she would go out with me. I would get a note in gym class. It said, "I like you." Then I would get back from gym pretty happy, even though we lost at dodgeball. I would be in Science class. Mr Fronzeo would be making us watch something about space. I would get really excited. I liked space. Then JJ Rooney, would smile at me. She would hand a note around the desks. It would get to me. It would say, "Tina likes you. She sent the note."
Then I would dream about us getting married. Then I stopped. Tina got mad at me. I fell in love with JJ. She sent me a note the next day. Then I dreamed about her. I didn't dream about Mary though. I wasn't dreaming about her at all. I am dreaming about a house on the mountain. I am dreaming about lots of money. I like money.
Burt: I am dreaming about Mars. The expedition. Those stars. The voice in my childhood. How she would call to me. Over and over. Over and over...
PSA--Take 3:
It is good to dream. It makes life possible. It makes every moment real special.
-P, from The Whopper Strategies
Mars, the Painting 5 days!!
Only 5 days left for MArs, the Painting at auction. It looks like Jim may be the lucky owner.
of course, i know some of you are waiting for that last minute rush.
just a reminder. 5 days left.
bid on it here.
I have 11minutes and seven seconds to connect with my peeps. This is all I got. No internet. That means I have a dollar a day at the cafemachines. It makes for a nice writing practice. What canI write in, well, 10 minutes. Can I do a comic, an interview, and say something profound. Maybe, a poem. Let's see.
Tonight I fell asleep right after work. Tense day. Power went out over Los Angeles. Streets were filled. Went to the 7 11. They were closing.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Power's out everywhere," the guy behind the counter said. "All the way to Venice."
"That's funny," I say to my WG crew with me. "Theelectric company was supposed to turn on my electricity today."
Apparently, this is funny. Everyone in the Sev cracks up. They make some jokes, but I don't hear them. I'm looking up at the sky - helicoptors andplanes. Cop cars everywhere.
"Looting," one Sev employee says. "We're closing."
Me and the WG Crew (Loggers United, or Lou for short) walk back to Mama's and Papa's pizza place, that runs on gas. I get a tuna fish and fries. Pizza for everyone else. Fitzy gets chickenpar,. I love that he got chicken parm. I would have got chicken parm, if I had thought about it. I didn't though. Just protein.
Interview.........
Were you scared?
P: Yeah, totally. I mean, who expects that kind of thing. A whole city in the dark. It made me think of terrorism. It made me think about what I could write to say goodbye. That was my first thought.
Whatwas your next?
P: Tuna fish. I wanted fries. I wanted tobasco. I thought about all the beautiful women I wouldn't get too meet.
Did you really?
P: Well, I thought about one. Time is short, you know. AnywayI love you guys. Notmuch time left Got to publish.
A comic........
I stole this image. But here it is.
; > (bird)
;* > (cries)
; > (for itself)
8 (turn this sideways)
A minute here. Okay. Now to say goodbye. Oh, but wait. I am in the new apartment. No furniture. I like it that way. I sleep on the floor. I paint in the big empty living room. I got a refrigertator. My only purchase. $35. Works great. This guy helped me walk it to the apartment ($5). He was real sweet. Told me about his journey to L.A..
It seems no one is from here. They all come through some type of catastrophe, some big dream, a great aching hope that pushes them past rail cars, and Twain's fronteir, to the open-hearted munificene of palm trees and stars. Lots of stars. Blackouts. And time running out. But I'm comfortable. I'm getting cocky. I can do this. I can make it. I have.
I'm alive, folks. This is P to the HY hizzle, signing off in a now electrically restored night. The Sev is back in business. The streets are happy. I think of you all. Here, at the sabe. A cigarette in hand. Thanks for stopping by. I will see you on the flip.
Love,
Pirooz
P.S.
What does the bird think of L.A.?
P: Oh, it likes it. The tears especially. Smiles aren't bad either. I've got him on my shoulder now. Zippedy Doo Da, they say. In my childhood. On the big screen. Out there to you. To this moment. To life. To my last words. Or on going. Going. Peace.
; > -8, turn this sideways! You'll get the bird's first techie smile. Audi
; > )
Tonight I fell asleep right after work. Tense day. Power went out over Los Angeles. Streets were filled. Went to the 7 11. They were closing.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Power's out everywhere," the guy behind the counter said. "All the way to Venice."
"That's funny," I say to my WG crew with me. "Theelectric company was supposed to turn on my electricity today."
Apparently, this is funny. Everyone in the Sev cracks up. They make some jokes, but I don't hear them. I'm looking up at the sky - helicoptors andplanes. Cop cars everywhere.
"Looting," one Sev employee says. "We're closing."
Me and the WG Crew (Loggers United, or Lou for short) walk back to Mama's and Papa's pizza place, that runs on gas. I get a tuna fish and fries. Pizza for everyone else. Fitzy gets chickenpar,. I love that he got chicken parm. I would have got chicken parm, if I had thought about it. I didn't though. Just protein.
Interview.........
Were you scared?
P: Yeah, totally. I mean, who expects that kind of thing. A whole city in the dark. It made me think of terrorism. It made me think about what I could write to say goodbye. That was my first thought.
Whatwas your next?
P: Tuna fish. I wanted fries. I wanted tobasco. I thought about all the beautiful women I wouldn't get too meet.
Did you really?
P: Well, I thought about one. Time is short, you know. AnywayI love you guys. Notmuch time left Got to publish.
A comic........
I stole this image. But here it is.
; > (bird)
;* > (cries)
; > (for itself)
8 (turn this sideways)
A minute here. Okay. Now to say goodbye. Oh, but wait. I am in the new apartment. No furniture. I like it that way. I sleep on the floor. I paint in the big empty living room. I got a refrigertator. My only purchase. $35. Works great. This guy helped me walk it to the apartment ($5). He was real sweet. Told me about his journey to L.A..
It seems no one is from here. They all come through some type of catastrophe, some big dream, a great aching hope that pushes them past rail cars, and Twain's fronteir, to the open-hearted munificene of palm trees and stars. Lots of stars. Blackouts. And time running out. But I'm comfortable. I'm getting cocky. I can do this. I can make it. I have.
I'm alive, folks. This is P to the HY hizzle, signing off in a now electrically restored night. The Sev is back in business. The streets are happy. I think of you all. Here, at the sabe. A cigarette in hand. Thanks for stopping by. I will see you on the flip.
Love,
Pirooz
P.S.
What does the bird think of L.A.?
P: Oh, it likes it. The tears especially. Smiles aren't bad either. I've got him on my shoulder now. Zippedy Doo Da, they say. In my childhood. On the big screen. Out there to you. To this moment. To life. To my last words. Or on going. Going. Peace.
; > -8, turn this sideways! You'll get the bird's first techie smile. Audi
; > )
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