Tuesday, December 28, 2010

The Great Vacuum Cleaner That Cannot Be Filled Moved Through My Chest, Gathering Conversation Dust and Discharging It Through My Borehole

I finished filling another moleskine two nights ago. Looking through the old one, first started August 8 of this year, I noticed the words Obama and Democrats and Palin and crackers began disappearing weeks before the November election and have disappeared almost entirely since. Corporate remains frequent, so I haven't lost interest in power, I just no longer feel compelled to measure out and define (if not defend) the .06% degrees of shittiness between Corporate's horking turds.

Had dinner last night with a friend and mentor who brought along his daughter who's tenure-tracking in English at Backwater State. She's trying to convert her doctoral thesis into a book some university press will publish, teaching four courses a semester, three of them intros and comps. Her thesis was on constructions of masculinity in pulp hard-boiled detective novels and my friend had told her about my take on Elkin's Bailbondsman (which gently and lovingly subverts the genre) and she was in town for Giftmas and wanted to meet me, but he must have told her also about this shitty blog because as soon as we sat down all her questions were about blogging: she's seen other academics' blogs and was considering something similar.

She was curious about the advantage of an academic blog - her dad must have suggested I had some insight into academic blogs, whatever the fuck they are - not a shitty pseudonymous blog, which she's had for years. That? yapping about shitty blegging? was excellent yap! That? was the first time in months, if not years, I spoke out loud and listened to out loud a funny smart discussion about blogging, and it was giggles hearing words come out of my mouth instead of endlessly looping in my head or filling up pages in a fucking moleskein. It may surprise even long-time readers that I think about this shit all the time.

Then we talked about Obama and the clusterfuck, finished our pints and went home.


Matthew Zapruder

Drunker than Voyager 1
but not as drunk as Voyager 2 I rode my blue
bike back through the darkness
to my lonely geode cave of light
awaiting nothing under the punctured
dome. I had achieved escape
velocity drinking clear liquid starlight
at the Thunderbird with a fingerless
Russian hedge fund inspector and one
who called himself The Champ. All
night I felt fine crystals cutting
my lips like rising up through
a hailstorm. And the great vacuum
cleaner that cannot be filled moved
through my chest, gathering
conversation dust and discharging
it through my borehole. During
one of many silences The Champ
took off his face and thus were many
gears to much metallic laughter
revealed. Long ago I forgot
the word which used to mean in truth
but now expresses disbelief. So
quickly did my future come. You who
are floating past me on your inward way,
please inform those glowing faces
who first gave me this shove I have
managed to rotate my brilliant
golden array despite their instructions.


  1. So you talked to a college girl about masturbation? I hope she was cute...

  2. No no no, she's a tenure-track professor at a state school in Wisconsin, not a college kid. And her brain was very attractive.

  3. Butterflies and orbs are much more attractive than reading Michael Gerson's jaw-droppingly dishonest explanation of why Social Security should be cut.

    (shameless plug)

  4. solsticebelle wrote:

    I never thought I'd live to see the day when a right wing whackjob like Gerson would be kissing a dem president's rear end for throwing sick old people out in the streets.

    That is exactly what will happen under Social Security "reform."

    Makes it much easier for the banks to steal their houses.
    12/28/2010 10:00:43 AM
    Recommended (8)

    Seems I don't need to leave a comment for Pastor Sanctimonious, that one says it all.

  5. I'd have a hard time using the internet if you didn't blegh. Keep filling the notebook, please.

  6. Thanks, Man.

    No word elsewhere. Hope for the best.

  7. Seems to me I recall a pretty good conversation about blegging and the bleglife in October. I only wish we'd had more time for real pints.

    Best wishes to you and yours for the Holidays!

  8. Yes, my apologies. Timelines and narratives get tangled.

  9. Fucking intellectuals. Let's get together and talk about our mutual destructive codependency on a public employee union. Or on Saint Benny Fucking Olsen.

    Y'know, when my orbit passes within fewer than 500 miles of home, for a change.

    As always, a tip of the palm to E7.

  10. Heh, you would have been snorting scotch through your nose, the giggles. Seriously, belly-laughs. I'd forgot what they were like.

  11. I had achieved escape
    velocity drinking clear liquid starlight
    at the Thunderbird with a fingerless
    Russian hedge fund inspector and one
    who called himself The Champ.

    I do enjoy a good image.

  12. Long ago I forgot
    the word which used to mean in truth
    but now expresses disbelief.

    That's the one that kabooms me.