Monday, January 26, 2009


I work at this place that gets deliveries from UPS. The UPS guy always seems to show up at about the same time every day, the time when I'm usually walking down the alley to the cafe to get an Americano or some sort of latte.

I think the UPS guy looks a little like Blake Butler.

I've never seen Blake in person. Only on the internet. There are photos and videos of Blake Butler doing things:

humping a couch

being drunkenly delighted by a smoothie

shaving and repeating himself



(I have included no links because I would like you to discover them yourself.)

Because the UPS guy sort of looks like Blake Butler, I also think I pretty much know what Blake looks like delivery packages in short brown shorts.



EVER, Blake's Calamari Press-published novella begins: "From in the light I touched the light."

In the light, the light touches you. You do not need to actively touch the light. The light is there, surrounding you. So, why the need to act to touch the light? Disconnection.

EVER is a book about the body. About being within it. About separating from it. About skin. Boundaries.

The language is tough and slippery. Its targets, though, are constantly moving, so that makes perfect sense.

It's also a book full of brackets. Brackets hold in pieces of equations. They allow for thoughts to exist within thoughts. They allow for more separation.

It's a simple book. Really pure. Really good. Buy it.


"Are you just writing nice things about Blake's book because Blake is a friend of yours?"

Umm. Well, sort of. Technically, though, I am a friend of Blake because I admire his writing.

Some people complain about how insular and chummy "literature" can be. Friends just helping friends. Friends promoting friends. Friends looking out for friends.

Bah. Like-minded creative types flock together. We are primarily interested in the success of the like-minded because we are fans. And we are, in some way, interested too in our own success.

And I don't mean just our aesthetic twins. I mean the whole damn family. The extended aesthetic family.


I took a nice walk outside. Two, actually. The walks occurred in different time zones.


Tuesday, January 20, 2009


I had this dream that a friend of mine had a baby. She had a baby and she filled her baby's crib with water. She put the baby in the crib, dropped it in the water, and left the baby there.

The baby didn't die. It lay there surrounded by water.

"Now when the bay cries, it won't wake me up," she said. "Because the baby will be crying under the water. Look."

She pulled the baby from the water, and the baby coughed a little and started to yell and cry. "And now," she said, and she dropped the baby back in the water. The baby's face was screwed and pinched, and its mouth was wide, wide open. The baby was, under the water, screaming and crying. We couldn't hear a thing.

"Pretty smart, huh?" said my friend. "And when I take the baby for a walk," she said, and she pointed at a metal pail filled with water.


Today, Obama is president. He's the first African-American president. That's pretty great.

Also, though, Joe Biden is, like, the 44th white male in a row to be Vice President. That's gotta be some sort of record, too, isn't it?

Take heart, white males. You are still totally undefeated in the "elected to Vice President of the United States of America" category. You still totally rule that one.


Youtube allows you to watch the movie Rock and Rule. You should watch it. Lou Reed and Iggy Pop are in it.


Berta, Berta - Branford Marsalis



I forgot to mention EVER by my friend Blake. EVER arrived to me a couple of days ago. I read it aloud to myself. It's an enormously satisfying book, and Blake is—as we already knew—a really talented writer. Go buy a copy already.

Friday, January 16, 2009