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Today I was hit hard by Anselm Kiefer's new exhibition at Gagosian Gallery. What was it exactly that hit me?

Forget the links, go see it. From the press release: "Kiefer has transformed the space that surrounds Occupations into a labyrinth of glass and steel vitrines, some more than twenty feet high..."






Guide To Self Marriage. 16pp., Illustrated by Zeami. Screenprinted covers edition of 100. Cerulean Blue and Copper. Six bucks includes shipping within the USA.




















Umbrella



If you open an umbrella at night and leave it outside, in the morning you will have an umbrella garden. The umbrella garden will manifest in one of two ways: 1. a garden will grow on the umbrella. 2. umbrellas will sprout from the ground.
Note to self. Recall the Denver Noise Festival 2010.
It's getting better and better. This email is from today, from the one and only Munter Jack, with a link to a new interview in Word Riot by David Hoenigman, author of Burn Your Belongings. Hoenigman hosts a wacky performance art show in Tokyo, Japan called Paint Your Teeth. The shows he is archiving on video as well. The last video David sent me there was an impromptu stripper -- according to David his wife was only surprised that she stripped for free. Who strips for free? she said. Performers at Paint Your Teeth strip for free, apparently. What other antics happen at these events? Check for yourself. But first, read the interview he did with Munter Jack.

Here is an excerpt I really enjoyed from the interview:

Who or what has influenced your writing?

Old people. The older and madder the better. When I return to my home town in the north of England I spend a lot of time standing around in charity shops, listening to old people talking about hip operations, cataracts and mad stuff like someone they know who got CJD from eating squirrel brains. They have these fantastically dark and at the same time very humorous conversations as they rummage through large boxes of second hand underpants.


(cute email from Munter Jack posted below)

Hey David,

I'm in Word Riot. Your mate Mr Hoenigman did an interview. And, I owe you big thanks. Once again! Cheers mate, he found me through you and Louffa Press. Thanks a lot! He says you're going to publish some of his work. Go for it fella.

Munter Jack
I received this email today from Jeremy Higgins. This made my harmonica happy.

David, I wrote a curious haiku (unconsciously, of course) for your Twenty Drunken Nights.


be a banana,
amplified tongue and others,
purchasing on fire.
there once was a man from Bukovina
who was smitten with the countess Hermina
he wooed her each eve
with a pan and a sieve
and played tunes on an old concertina

--David Kornbluh
BIG LANGUAGE: If WOODY ALLEN and HENRY ROLLINS had offspring that was then mutilated in a sixty car pile up and survived a plutonium cockroach attack, we would have something that sounded like BIG LANGUAGE. If CAN, HELLA, MASSACRE, FAUST, DAVID CROSS and THE HOLD STEADY joined forces and vomited on the grave of VLAD THE IMPALER, we would have something that sounded like BIG LANGUAGE. Thank you.<a href="http://biglanguage.bandcamp.com/track/random-fuzz-selector">Random Fuzz Selector by Big Language</a>


This friday Beatriz Albuquerque is showing in NYC one of her video-performances in an event called GiSCA Palooza. Beatriz did not mention what GiSCA stands for, but it sounds to me like the Romanian word for goose. Gîscă would be the correct spelling in Romanian. But I'm sure this has nothing to do with geese. What makes me so sure? I'm going to ask Beatriz, and I'll get back to you.
GiSCA Palooza 2010 -- GiSCA Palooza 2010
An Evening of the Arts and Social Change
April 23rd * 7-9pm. Milbank Chapel, 525 W. 120 Street, New York, New York.

This GiSCA Palooza 2010 event is free and open to the public.
Beatriz Albuquerque

Current / Upcoming Exhibitions:

2010 GiSCA Palooza, Milbank Chapel, New York - USA.

2010 Fluxhibition #4 – amusements, diversions, games, tricks and puzzles, FluxMuseum: A Wing of the Ontological Museum, Forth Worth - USA.

2010 Forum de Ermesinde, Ermesinde - Portugal.

Found another treat in my mailbox today, this one from Brooklyn, New York. "David, I do not know the abbreviation for the word Nebraska." And on the back she (Alex Cuff, one of the editors of No, Dear -- Founded in 2008 by Emily Brandt, Alex Cuff, Katie Moeller, and Jane Van Slembrouck) wrote an easter poem -- an invocation of Lynda Carter: Wonder Woman Stands Spread Eagle in Her Underwear.

Also enclosed was Issue Five (Edges) of No, Dear, hand stitched Limited Edition number 34/100. And I almost forgot -- the first poem is entitled Icarus Views Himself in a Reflecting Pool -- by Martin Rock. This hit me sideways because just yesterday I wrote a piece called Nicarussis. I was trying to find the hybrid between Narcissus and Icarus. The piece is simple -- Nicarussis. If Nicarussis drank from a pool of his own reflection, would it singe his throat?

Two Junkies

Two Junkies are rolling up their sleeves. The first junkie snaps the tourniquet tight on his arm and says, Do you take Discover? The second junkie nods...
To Cook a Thief

I have a pan and a pot. No spatula. No forks. This should change. One plate. I want your big language.
Two new chapbooks now available at St. Marks Books on the lower east side of Manhattan. Copies also available at Powell's City of Books (Portland) and Quimby's (Chicago) and through me (edition of 150). Details at Louffa Press.

New from Louffa Press ebooks. A scroll of collected flash fictions from Munter Jack, a gritty, laconic UK-based performer who also goes by the name The Fug. Offshore Navigation is a shark-toothed, lean, hungry-as-a-horse explication of the writer's dilemma in a world of loose dentures, fag ash, Special Brew and small animal disembowelment.

Offshore Navigation by Munter Jack
This appeared in my mailbox today. From St. Paul, Minnesota. YES.

housetrainwreckoning

Ilonna pulls up on her Italian moped. She has a forty resting in her left hand, and she's lighting up a filtered cigarette in Nebraska. Ilonna shifts her candle-eyed gaze to everyone on the porch and says, At one point I had no clothes and there were eight girls trying to hump me, three on this leg and five on that leg. The dogs were trying to hump me from behind. Cocker Spaniels, Pugs, Poodles, even a weasel. A weasel with a tumor the size of a golf ball. Somebody tried to get me to pet the tumor. I'm not petting no goddamn weasel tumor. Eight girls on my leg and some guy whispers in my ear, Do the humpty hump, and pet the tumor. Then I was in the bathroom, and this couple was arguing. The guy was freaking out. He was some kind of straight guy, white t-shirt, baseball cap. The guy said, Why are all these people naked in your apartment? It's like I don't even know you. The girl was like, relaaaaaaax. These are my friends. That's what you call friends? he says, his nostrils flipping from left to right. I have to piss like a racehorse. Guys, I have to piss like a racehorse, I tell them. She looks at me and says, Go ahead. And they keep yelling at each other. The straight guy says, What kind of a person are you, letting people piss in here like that? My pants are around my ankles and I finish and I try to get up when the girl says, wait. Stay there. She looks at me hungrily and takes her pants off. She sits down on my leg. She starts to rubbing, looking into my eyes with a question. All the time they keep arguing. Your friends are perverts, he says. No they're not, she says, still rubbing on my leg. Really moving it. She looks even harder into me with the same question in her eyes and yells back at him: My friends are beautiful. Ten, twenty minutes they're yelling at each other, all the time she's moving against me, streaks of moisture rubbing on my thigh. She seems to find the answer to her question on my leg. You never did understand me, she screams, but she's looking at me, and she's quivering. I'm starting to sweat. You never let me be myself, she says, rubbing more and more intensely. The door comes open, and it's the weasel. He hops up on her thigh, rubbing the tumor against her side. She pulls up her pants, and stands up. It's like her boyfriend didn't even see it. Prince's song Raspberry Berret just finishes and it's completely silent. There's a long pause where the weasel looks guilty and the girl looks satisfied and I'm wondering if I'm still alive. I'm sorry you guys are having relationship problems, I tell them. But can I put my pants back on now? Ilonna takes the cigarette from her mouth and flicks a three inch ash on the porch.



BAY AREA PEOPLE: I just received a note from Joe Wenderoth, author of the flash fiction classic Letters To Wendy's, and The Holy Spirit of Life: Essays Written for John Ashcroft's Secret Self. He is exhibiting new photographic work along with paintings of Marc Wise at the Cricket Engine Gallery in Oakland. Wine, snacks, and weirdness opens February 6th from 3-7 p.m. Joe is doing a reading at the same gallery, feb 12th at 7 p.m! Don't miss it if you're anywhere near Oakland.
I've heard it said that a writer should gain experience in the real world and that would greatly enrich and inform one's writing. I have heard that hyenas are nocturnal creatures that suck blood from wildebeasts. I have heard that the real world consists of things we do not enjoy, but must endure. I have heard that keeping it real means keeping it real compared to what? I've heard that over 65% of Americans have shoplifted at some point in their life. I've heard it's good luck to have cheese in your beard. That to throw salt over a rabbit's shoulder is wise. I've been told that having health insurance increases the value of my hourly wage by at least two dollars. I have heard that home is where you lay your head. I've heard that you can't go home again, but if you do, everything looks smaller. I've heard that books don't make people, people make books. Computers don't make mistakes, people make computers that make mistakes. I've heard that a well rounded education means you've read Shakespeare, the Bible, and a People's History of the United States. I have heard creatures I probably shouldn't have heard while standing next to a bat cave in the ruins of Palenque all night, waiting for the sun, my legs softening and bowing from exhaustion. I've heard I should have a t-shirt that reads, I survived a night of standing in the rain at the ruins of Palenque with an umbrella I fashioned from three large philidendron leaves tied together with a shoelace. I have heard it's bad luck to turn down an offer of water. That plants enjoy music and grow better with Mozart than Metallica. I've heard it's possible to be both a cult figure and a pop figure at the same time. That I'm not being lied to. That yesterday's classics were today's bestsellers. That today's bestsellers are yesterday's classics. That solitude and solitudeness are two different things. There's a kind of coffee from Brazil that comes out of a lemur's arse and costs twenty-three dollars a pound. That there are bass frequencies so low they can make you poop. Tha examining your poop can tell you vital details about your diet. That to be well adjusted to a sick society is not a measure of health. I've heard my elevator does not go to the top and the smoke alarm is always on. Recycling does not apply to mammals, otherwise there would be a bin for the green hampsters and no one would be offended when I asked them if they took it out yet. There is a sucker in every room, and it's likely they know the same whore and have high-fived over it while shaking their hips to Prince's 1999. That I am a latent heterosexual. That I should feel more concerned about my teeth and testicles than my prostate or penis. That being a comedian is the toughest job in the world. I've heard that surfing was invented in Northern Peru from a dealer in Huanchaco, that it was invented in Hawaii from a cokehead in Santa Cruz. That I should feel lucky to have a job. That I should never look back, even if I've lost my dentures. Go, go gadget dentures. That it's not wise to date someone by asking leading questions about the Carter administration. That I am doomed and I am going to hell because I was born in Boston instead of more educated rural Nebraska and have no appreciation for Sarah Palin. I have heard that Africa is a continent, made up of hundreds of distinct ethnic cultures or nations and made of more than one country. That you'll never get ahead by saying yes to the man. Walking is one of the best forms of exercise. I should stop my mind from thinking and just put on my anti-anxiety space suit.
Kevin Keck on my CD release ASS LUNCH:

My wife has said that "Ass Lunch" now takes the place of John Moran's "The Manson Family: An Opera" as the music most likely to push her over the edge while on acid. I hope you understand that's a great compliment coming from my wife. I rather liked it; I like sonic mysteries.
Okay, so this is going to be good. Jay Schleidt of Darbolistic Rex is putting together a double cassette compilation with a devil's slew of musicians -- and I even heard a rumor that Ember Schrag might be contributing a work using something she calls a Paper Ocean -- a prototype of a machine she has conceived where (as far as I gathered in brief conversation) the sound would consist of amplified paper moving against amplified paper in an origami or accordian fashion, resulting in an ocean-like soundscape. Did I get that right, Ember? Anyway, for this there are going to be a lot of musicians on this compilation, including but not limited to:

Fair Conditioner, Big Drum in the Sky Religion*, Earth Incubator*, Headless Kamikaze*, Illnathix*, Alexander Kibanov & Norihito Kodama*, CJ Boyd, eloi, Zebra Mu, color rabbit, Psychic Parrot, No One Conquered Wyoming, Ghost in My Veins*, larva, Big SAD, Aisle, Hyper Fighting*, Aural Resuscitation Unit, bwmh, Killian Lord
Benny the Church Mouse, Children's Prison, Christian Von Sponheim*, Rigor Mortis, Clitaurus*, Moscovich Meets the Fug*, Yana, The Men From... BEYOND*, Lazy Magnet, Instinct Control, Whip Cream Wars*, Gaybomb, Sobou Shuu, Dino Felipe, 7ym*, O.L.M., Be Rock, Terror'ish, mdm Hey, Kenji Siratori*, Sparkling Wide Pressure, Eric Andre, Gigantic Blonde Boy, snma, Endless Endless Endless, Munter Jack, The Boom Boom Booms, Joe Mc Nertney, Cocoon, Goldwater Marmalaid, Core of the Coalman, Bonus Beast, Inhibitionists,, Sensible Nectar, Inappropriate King Live.....


jay schleidt

Darbolistic Rex