Tuesday, March 30, 2010

The Funniest Thing on Television Right Now

Well, I should say the funniest thing on the Investigation Discovery Channel, since that is basically all I watch, apart from some Catholic doctrinal and hagiographic discussions on EWTN (which have been very interesting lately).

I'm so tired of the "NEVER STOP LOOKING" spot (there are actually three versions of this promo) although I admit the closing image of the child looking under the bed with that perfect reflection of his is completely mesmeric.

They picked a child whose expression is about as enthralling as the Mona Lisa, with his weird sense of knowing...bravo ad wizards at ID....

But the most annoying clip on there is the one they keep running for Aphrodite Jones' new show, where she rehashes and re-examines some of America's most high-profile murder cases.

They keep showing Phil Spector (and you all know how pretty he is, right?).

They show Phil with hair, without hair, with tremors, without tremors....

But the worst clip is this self-indulgent video he made sitting in a pink wing chair ranting about his innocence where he barks: "I. HAD. NO. MOTIVE!!!"

And it's so funny, because everyone knows motives are the first thing that every crackhead (or other drug addict basically) forgets.

They forget motives way more than they forget where they left their car keys or they forget the way home.

Or if you want to look at it another way, anything is a motive to a crackhead. A twig snaps. A lollipop is matted in the rug. A bug lands on a complimentary notepad from Hojo's.

And so you fire a gun. Into someone or into the expensive carpet or expensive ceiling or some groupie chick that's been using your credit card for seventeen days because she could.

So everytime I hear that annoying voice barking "I. HAD. NO. MOTIVE!!!" I want to scream the conclusion... "FOR. ANYTHING."

You can really hear that he's angry at himself. Because he knows he killed and he knows he really did it for no reason at all.

So he's bitching that he didn't even have a motive, realizing that he just gave up the rest of his free life for no reason whatsoever...this wasn't even a person he hated or loved or anything.

I mean, that person wasn't crack.

I wonder if anyone did PHIL SPECTOR the comic book yet.

Or a coloring book.

That would be even better.

And all the crayons that came with it would have scary names for their colors, like "retribution red" and "motiveless chartreuse."

"Blackout." "Orange you glad it wasn't a submachine gun."

And one really big giant crayon called "Pre-Sentencing Sphincter-Warm-Up Pink."

Today England

threatened to change its name to an unpronounceable series of 438 consonants lacking a single vowel--not even one of the "fake" Welsh ones.

England, which was suspected of being under the influence of crack, was talked down by Swaziland.

Snipers, however, did remain at their posts atop Big Ben, on the roof of Parliament and throughout Trafalgar Square, just in case the country decided to renege at the last moment.

Bangkok (clearly stirred up by the drama in England) threatened to revert to its original, impossible-to-pronounce, impossible-to-remember name that very evening.

A U.N. peacekeeping mission was being formed for deployment as this story went to press.

Authorities are, of course, keeping a close eye on Togo.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Some Dust Bunnies Shrugged Their Shoulders at Me Today

I wasn't even aware dust bunnies had shoulders.

Now I know.

But I should think they could find better use for them than sarcastic shrugging.

But then...have you ever met an unlackadaisical dust bunny?

Friday, March 26, 2010

Film Project

I have started a film project where I invite strangers to talk about anything on film--or to take the Pizzicato Questionnaire on camera.

I've already had some responses by strangers who want to participate in the filming.

I wonder what they'll be like.

I figure I'll meet them around town and post the clips on YouTube.

Later, I'll try to make a documentary out of this (tentative title: Meeting Strangers).

I hate that title though, so I'll change it.

I hope none of these respondents is a serial killer lol.

This is why I'm meeting these people in public places.

Plus, it makes for better filming to have unexpected traffic/sounds around.

"On Voit Ton Cul"

Clean your damn apartment.

Dru Makes Me Play This YouTube Video When He Does "The Nip"

Jakob Rheum

So the Slothful had a "selective advantage" in the very bad years that clustered around the year of Jakob's birth.

On more than one occasion, when Mrs. Rheum had Jakob out in the yard taking sun, werewolves had passed right by him without even realizing the potential meal.

Mrs. Rheum had of course floured her baby, as all good mothers did during this time, since flour is known to mask the delicious "baby scent" which so attracts werewolves.

And then werewolves are naturally myopic, so Jakob's lack of movement contributed greatly to his survival.


England finally capitulated under threat of war from several countries, and changed the word "windscreen" to "windshield."

They were forced to concede there is no screen whatsoever.

It's a piece of glass.

The Forgotten Revolution

The forgettable people began forming a secret society for revenge, began to plot a Revolution of the Forgettables.

But these would-be combattants soon misplaced each other's phone numbers, addresses, forgot each others' faces, forget who all was to be involved, what the chain of command was to have been, etc.

Obviously, the revolution came to nothing.

It was conveniently forgotten.

But the most beautiful thing is the Museum others made in memory of this revolution.

Admission is free.

And on Sundays they actually pay you to visit.

A Game

The common people decided to play a game where every single unfamous person on the planet would suddenly pretend that a famous person was not famous.

They picked Connie Chung for the first victim.

It worked wonderfully.

Within a month, nobody on the planet knew who "Connie Chung" was or is.

She began screaming everywhere she went.

Maury Povich made a few attempts to convince the public that Connie had once been a noted journalist, but nobody was having it.

Most of her clips were erased and when Maury would show ones that hadn't been erased, every one would insist, "That's not the same person."

After a few months, Maury divorced Connie Chung.

His last words to her were, "I feel like I don't even know who you are."

She became a bag lady in Austin, Texas.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Describe the Animal




Wednesday, March 24, 2010

This Past Week

I'm reading French lit almost exclusively lately.

Wondering about the French obsession with the adolescent as protag.

I think I understand the vampirism. I think I understand Maldoror much better now.

Today I got lost walking around uptown but it was sort of pleasant.

If you're in the East you know what a glorious day it was.

Canada geese were camped out along the Susquehanna in the sunken gardens.

Men are rutting again. It's that season.

The other night some doctors took care of me. They gave me some pills and a shot.

Then sent me on my way.

There are a few murder cases that sort of obsess me. American murders that seem to crystallize our culture.

I don't want to write about murder.

I never did.

This one for the audio...sorry about the video...

This one for the video...sorry about the audio...

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Monday, March 15, 2010

"Poem of Unrefined Similes"

Craig's List Casual Encounters, Los Angeles

Craig's List Missed Encounters, Los Angeles

Tollhouse Spawned a Monster: "Domestic Abuse Cookie"

I don't think these were really Tollhouse but...

Lee was baking cookies and something unusual happened...a baking tragedy...

One of the cookies came out clearly domestically abused.

I shot it as a YouTube video too so I'll post that in a minute but here you can see the cookie (in group and in close up).

It appears to have had both eyes punched out and one swollen shut, and to have received a fatted lip which is still bloodied (with chocolate of course).

The spousal abuse guilty party is believed to be the cookie to the left of her.

He beat the chocolate out of her.

We have him in Tupperware lockdown right now, pending the arrival of either his cookie lawyer (he said he hired a Milky Way--they're supposedly the best) or until the police (a bunch of Irish cops driving a peppermint paddywagon) get here to take him into custody.

Pics of Me this Afternoon

I was taking pics of a million things today.

I had to meet with a social worker and he asked me, "Did anybody ever tell you that you look like Johnny Mathis before?"

No. Because I don't.

But I think he meant it in a nice way.

I'd be happy with one ten thousandth of his money, I'm sure.

I didn't comb my hair today so it was sort of demonic.

I can't remember the last time I dyed me hair.

Fuck it, right?

I think I look vaguely demonic in the one pic.

That worries me.

I just started exercising again yesterday. I rode my exercise bike for a half hour.

My diet is indulgent again so I need to start working out at least an hour a day.

It's amazing how fast the weight comes back.

EWTN had the best items from their catalogue featured today.

They were mostly target-marketing the Irish-American Catholics and had great items along those lines in time for St. Patrick's Day.

I'm thinking about getting the penitence rosary. That's the one that only has one decade on it that you hide up your sleeve (or did in anti-Catholic times in Ireland) and a thumb-ring you move from thumb to finger to finger as you do the decades of the rosary. That's only six dollars.

They also have this stylized trinity symbol (besides the shamrock) that's Celtic I think...probably inspired by Celtic ropework like some of the other designs they were showcasing.

I was coveting that too.

And the cross that had Connemara marble (that beautiful green marble you can only find on that one coastline) inlaid.

They had a lot of (yuck) resin items, Celtic crosses in that and such. Tacky stuff.

But some of the jewelry was nice.

It would look so hot on some bully Irie bruiser.

Was that p.c.?

Cat Eaten by Shark!

My cat Dru in a YouTube "performance."

He was nipstoned.

He gets at least a couple views every day.

Hence, Dru is now a YouTube star, I think.

People looking for a cat actually getting eaten by a shark get what they deserve when they find this video.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

excerpt from A Century of Jakob Rheum...

Jakob Rheum was born in a bad year--a year of fulminant plague planted smack-dab in the middle of a silly war, a year swarming with people driven so mad by plague, silly war and taxes that they frequently turned into werewolves.

The uncomfortable truth is that there are not many good years.

I mean in which to be born.

*     *     *     *     *

In the second year of Jakob's life, his Father was severely overtaxed and turned into a werewolf.

His mother had to reluctantly cut her husband loose.

He went off to do werewolf things.

*     *     *     *     *

Also in the latter part of his second year, Jakob began to suspect there was something to human movement.

He grew curious at last of movement, and even made a few tentative forays into its strange realm.

He began to wiggle his fingers and toes.

This delighted his Mother and her kin.

This might not sound like much to you, Dear Reader, but in his previous two seasons of residence on earth, Jakob had been an exceedingly slothful baby.

Jakob had actually been pronounced dead on at least five occasions, and once a coffin had been constructed.

His mother used Jakob's coffin as a potato bank and a footstool.

This retardation in Jakob's development was actually beneficial, as werewolves are drawn to very demonstrative babies, and babies who locomote overmuch.

Jakob was not demonstrative and he did not overlocomote.

*     *     *     *     *

The Slothful had a "selective advantage" in the very bad years that clustered around the year of Jakob's birth.

The garrulous and demonstrative are werewolves' favorite victims.

*     *     *     *     *

In Jakob's third year of life, a Cabal of Happy People came to power and there was a giddy celebration throughout the Kingdom as a general Prosperity was showered upon the people. The State's wealth was actually shared by the masses during this time.

The aristocracy thought this was insane and many of them commited suicide in protest, thereby further enriching the masses.

Indeed, it was a very good year.

This was a delightful year for Jakob because he remembers his Mother was exceedingly happy all that year.

She sang. She danced with a broom through the house.

She dusted the Father-Werewolf's picture.

(Sadly, Jakob's Father did not return after the country's "reversal of fortune." A werewolf is not easy to reform. There have only ever been two reformed, according to the Gracious Church. And one of them still ended badly.)

Jakob's Mother felt herself a fairy. She felt so light that year.

*     *     *     *     *

Jakob's Mother didn't have to bake crow pie that year, and that was a blessing.

Because even at the age of three, Jakob got horrible stomach-aches when his mother was slaughtering crows in the basement.

She screamed bloody murder. They screamed bloody murder. Because it was bloody murder. Going on down in the basement.

The truth is, Jakob's Mother was a terrible amateur at corbicide.

A single crow's murder might see the sun go from one side of the house to the other.

Jakob would lie on the floor and put his ear to the floorboards and listen to his Mother explaining life and death to crows she was murdering. She had a horrible habit of doing that. People will often apologize even as they are commiting murder.

The Gracious Church has an explanation for this, but Jakob does not know it, as he has not been baptized to this point in his life.

(There was a general prejudice in the Gracious Church against the sons of lycanthropes during that period of history.)

Then Jakob's Mother would trudge up the stairs and come through the door a bloody mess, carrying a bloodier mess.

Sometimes, one of the dead crows would get a second wind, and the war would start all over in the kitchen.

Jakob once hid in the potato coffin, which happened to be empty, during one of his Mother's battles with a resurrected crow.

Needless to say, Jakob had a terror of crows his entire life.

Besides, crow pie tastes like shit.

It's not nearly as good as eel pie. Everybody knows that.

Even when you add the potatoes and spices from the garden.

"You can taste the crow's sarcasm," Jakob's mother would sometimes say, apologizing for what she was forced to feed her young son.

"It's alright, Mama," Jakob would lie. For the poor learn to lie almost as soon as they learn to talk.

If you are or were poor, you understand.

The crows were caught with a version of birdlime Jakob's Mother had invented. She spread it on the high branches of many trees.

She would clamber up the trees after the stuck birds began screaming.

Jakob's Mother was still young and exceedingly nimble. Jakob loved to watch how dextrous she was climbing rapidly through the trees, barefoot and beautiful in her long hair.

Jakob, later in life, would wonder why she did not simply snap the necks of the birds immediately upon capture. He supposed it had something to do with freshness. Or--depressing thought--she liked to talk to the crows. Because she always did that when she went to the basement.

A woman whose husband has turned lycanthrope can get up to some strange things in a year of plague and silly war.

*     *     *     *     *

Jakob's Mother was never given proper credit for that birdlime.

It spread over half the country in the hard years before the Genial Prosperity was ushered in by the Cabal of Happy People.

*     *     *     *     *

This year of Genial Prosperity was exactly that.

It was of twelve months' duration.

Because the Cabal of Happy People turned out to be a Cabal of Bipolar People, and they made horrid impulse purchases all that year.

The entire government experienced a collective rapid cycling manic phase.

They bought ridiculous things for which Jakob's landlocked, rather impoverished country had no need.

They bought islands inhabited only by lazy people.

They bought thousands of early prototypes of what we now know as bicycles--with their front wheels three stories high--and demanded the populace use these as public transportation, under penalty of heavy fine. This led to countless tragic deaths on the streets every day. Throughout the country, in every developed city or village, one could hear screams of horror on every street about once every hour or so as one of these impossible-to-balance towers on wheels keeled over. These deaths were collectively known to posterity as The Dumbass Bicycle Tragedy. (You would think people would have had a clue when they had to climb specially constructed towers just to ensconce themselves on the bicycle's seat.)

They bought whales.


The government was entirely too giddy, like schoolchildren in a museum gift shop.

And because they were all mad, their Charters and Constitutions--which extolled the civic and nationalistic virtues inherent in the Purchasing of Whales--made perfect sense to the mad lot of them.

They bought whales without giving a single rational thought to the fact that they had no place to put them.

The whales rolled into the country's capital in magnificent, intricate aquaria that had taken nearly an entire year to build, and then they just sat there.

In the Public Square. Fucking up traffic.

Citizens would walk up to the colossal aquaria and stare through the greenest glass into one of the creature's eyes larger than a carriage wheel, and the poor doomed creature would stare back, and sometimes let out a plangent, weirdly interrogative cry. Everyone knew what this was in whale tongue, even without an interspecies dictionary.

They were asking,"What have you done with our fucking ocean?

The government bought endless tons of sea salt which had to be transported in by caravansary, and attempted to turn lakes oceanic, to avert the rapidly growing credibility crisis.

The Whales must make sense, or there would be a Revolution.

A Department of Whale Housing was rapidly convened and given ridiculous amounts of authority.

But it all ended terribly.

It was a debacle of historical proportions.

There was a bloody Revolution.

*     *     *     *     *

The Cabal of Happy People was beheaded that December. Most of them were giggling and making wildly inappropriate comments even as they departed This Earth.

They never did come down off that manic phase.

The populace looked away in disgust.

*     *     *     *     *

The country was bankrupt again.

Several whale skeletons were put on display in the newly-and-penitently-constructed Museum of Our Prodigal Regrets, as a reminder to the populace that Impulse Purchasers make Bad History.

*     *     *     *     *

It was a solemn ritual to visit the Whale Skeleton Chamber. This gargantuan room with a ridiculously high ceiling was extremely dark, windowless, and had its walls covered in a rather funereal black damascened fabric. The chamber was barely lit by a few suspended, heavily-candled chandeliers which hung thirty feet over the heads of the museum's visitors.

The Chamber echoed the whispers of the cowed visitors in a very creepy fashion. It made you not want to speak at all. It was rather like visiting the site of a massive slaughter or horrid battle.

Those whales had cost the country tens of thousands of lives.

And yet it wasn't their fault one bit.

They were whales.

Even the common man could see it was one of life's sacred mysteries.

Jakob's Mother took Jakob's left hand and walked him around the Whale Skeleton in their shared silent, reverential trance. They could hear the whisper of other patrons they could not see and these horsetails of voices flickered about in the darkness of the chamber like echoes of protohumans in a great neolithic cave. You couldn't really hear their words. Just their murmuring reverence going up the huge black walls. Jakob's Mother held a candle given to her by a guardian of the Whale Skeleton Chamber in her left hand, and she used this to illuminate the bleached bone of the vanished beast for her boy.

Jakob reached out touched the poor dead whale's skeleton.

He felt sorry for it. He began to pet it.

His Mother gently removed his hand and said "History."

She said it with the minatory tone of a Mother showing a hot stove to her child.

Jakob instantly understood.

History is a dead whale.

History is a big dead whale you do not touch.

Or even talk about really.

Don't be an asshole.

Just look at it.

Artificial Intelligence. In Conversation with A.L.I.C.E....

The A.I.M.L. brain.

Pokemon Soulsilver and Heartgold Were Released Today


I only know this because Lee and his kids are all Pokemon masters.

They can quote Pokedex charts the way scary old ladies can quote Ecclesiastes.

They said Toys R Us was like The World's Fair today.

I wish he had taken the digicam to film the Pokedemonium.

He got all these promotional freebies with the new games. The Ho-Oh Figurine and the Lugia Figurine.

A cute Pokemon shirt that's for a tiny kid who's like five (hello EBAY!).

And something else. I forget.

Oh yeah. Two styli (or "game sticks") with little Ho-Oh and Lugia charms on them.

I'm not Poke-literate.

I am horrified to admit I can identify many (but not all) stuffed Pokemon creatures by name when I invariably encounter them in the thrift stores.

I've always liked Psy-Duck.

And Mew Two is an interesting figure.

I suppose the whole Pokemon game is a big Zoroastrian mess.

I'm sure somebody has made Team Rocket porn by now.

Above is my favorite Pokemon picture of all time (sorry P.E.T.A.--he's fine!) and one I just found now (the frightening Pokemon ski mask).

Scary Teddy Bear

I Rarely Listen to Terrestrial Radio...

but when I do, I listen (as I did tonight) to this station. Surprisingly, I get perfect reception.

I remember my ex and I used to listen to "Hearts in Space" on a different radio station (the PBS radio station, I believe) back in the day (or night, actually) and tonight I was enjoying a program that had the exact same taste/format--basically new age of all different stripes from nearly classical to totally tacky.

And I was happy to hear it was the same host, John Diliberto. But now the program is called "Star's End."

I just Wikied this and was surprised to learn "Star's End" actually came first and has been around since 1975 or '76!

Anyway, I enjoyed it.

It's always nice to discover a good thing hasn't died, when we're sure it has.

Go John, Go!

Here's more info on John D.

Here is tonight's playlist: I heard some good stuff tonight. I liked the solo work by the singer formerly with the band "Drowning not Waving." That's obviously a nod to Stevie Smith's most well-known poem.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

High Maintenance

Horrible Mothers


Jennifer Maestre

Possibly you have received some photographs of Jennifer Maestre's masterful pencil sculptures by now.

Lee received this in an email from a friend and passed it on to me.

The email didn't credit the artist, but it was easy enough to Google.

Her site is here. Don't throw away those shorties or nubs! Jennifer needs them!

I love many of the effects she gets. Here a starfish, there a sunflowery sort of bowl, vagina dentata effects, vaguely Pokemonish animals.

It's the sort of thing which would appeal right across the board to everyone.

And writers know how feral and evil a pencil can be when it doesn't want to produce ideas, so of course there's that dimension.

I wonder if she ever made a giant cube out of these pencils and titled it Writer's Block?

I Created a Bas Jan Ader WORD SEARCH Puzzle

You can try it here.

Oskour Duservo (Michel Ducerveau)

Here's what the artist looks like. From the outside.

Oskour Duservo (nom de YouTube de Michel Ducerveau)

More Bas Bashing

This clip made me laugh too.

While it doesn't resemble Gorey's hand at all, it has Gorey's sensibility written all over it.

Who knew bashing Bas Van Ader's dreariness could turn into a cottage industry on YouTube.

I still maintain the artist would be more amused by these clips than the tribute one.

I love when the grieving "Too Sad to Sing" birds draw the curtains on his life at the end.

I Hate to Admit I Love What this Artist Did With One of Bas Jan Ader's Most Plangent Clips

But I do.

Somehow I think Bas Jan Ader would prefer this to the "tribute" clip with the bicycle below.

Because there's more pathos in the fact that all pathos will eventually end up bathos, will be swallowed up in the human survival mechanism of humor.

Plus, this is just funny.

What's that Banana Yoshimoto quote? "There is no place in the world for sorrow--not one."

Smart little cupcake, that one.

Here is Always Somewhere Else

Bas Jan Ader, Nightfall (1971)

"A Newly Rediscovered Film"

This was on YouTube and is purported to be a "newly rediscovered film" by Bas Jan Ader found at UC Irvine.

Somehow I have my suspicions this might be a hoax.

The sensibility is right and it's a funny clip.

But my intuition says it's a fake.

(Five minutes later.)


I went back and read the Comment stream and it confirmed what I thought.

It's not even the right-sized body, and he seemed only to use himself.

He had the reflexive YouTube thing going on long before it arrived.

But the comment stream is interesting and points to at least one readworthy thing.

This tribute is trying to speak in Ader's visual language. It's obviously "quoting" the suicidal gesture of Ader going to sea alone in that flimsy twelve foot craft.

Whether it was conscious suicide or an attempt to trust in the "miraculous" the artist sought so zealously will never be known.

But riding a bicycle into the sea is about as realistic as what he was attempting.

vbpce (3 months ago)

Horvitz you genius

averroes1138 (9 months ago)

Its nice that someone likes Bas Jan Ader's work and did this, but it doesn't really feel like anything of his I'm used to seeing.

Simply riding a bike into the shallow surf seems to me a misconception of Ader's great artwork. More of a superficial formal imitation.

Inspiratieloos (8 months ago)

I think you shouldn't see this as a way to imitate Ader's work, but more like some sort of tribute to him in the style of his work. Considering Ader died in the sea, you could interpretate this as his death; presenting it as being by Ader himself would make it seem as if Ader knew he was going to die (which he definitely must have known anyways).

albeitmanny (10 months ago)

This is an homage made by the artist David Horvitz.

fancyasian (1 year ago)

google the essay by wade saunders called "In dreams begin responsibilities" - it's a great article about patrick painters relationship to bja's work. i tried to post the link, but it got deleted, probably thought i was spamming.

adamnstamp (1 year ago)

This was not posted by Patrick Painter Gallery and there is no evidence that this is in fact a film by Bas Jan Ader.

pellethead25 (1 year ago)

Bas Jan's film and video works have finally been released - hereisalwayssomewhereelse (dot) com

nicnieko (1 year ago)

Just brilliant.


so beautiful.

Bas Jan Ader,

like Samuel Beckett, was obsessed with falling.

Bas Jan Ader

Probably my favorite "fucked up artist" of all time.

Almost every artistic act or object he put his body or mind to was about insufficiency, impossibility, incompetence and innocence.

Stupid innocence.

He was fucked pretty much from birth--his father taken off and shot in the forest, his mother forced to vacate the home so quickly she threw the family's clothes out the windows of their house into the garden while the four or five year old artist watched.

This might explain his later arranging his entire wardrobe on the roof of his house.

Comparisons are made to Buster Keaton sometimes.

A "fragile conceptualist" is generally considered oxymoronic.

Not in this case.

Because the ideas are generally about closed circuit emotions.

Pink Orange Red

Friday, March 12, 2010

I Found this Sausagefest

I'm looking for people who claim to have seen the Greek gods in person.

I'm sure there are some accounts out there but so far I'm finding zip.

I would think I should be able to find someone who insists Pan got in their garbage out back in the middle of the night, or someone who claims he or she saw Hermes delivering flowers to make a little pin money.

Instead, I found this sausagefest.

I Am Hades

Big surprise. Not.

Find out which Greek god you are here. Then tell me. If you're not embarrassed and it's not too personal.

Zach on Yahoo Asks

"Are the Greek Gods real?

"I feel like i have a connection with them even though im not sure they exsist or not. All my life weird stuff has happened around me and to everyone around me. I just got done reading a book about the greek gods and heros and i feel like some of that stuff happened in my life or will. I also have dreams about them too. Even before i knew they even exsisted. Please answer me. Im confused!

11 months ago

Additional Details

"I was rasied to believe god, but i never felt he was really out there. When ever i think of the greek gods i feel like they can hear me and they watch over me. God might exsist, but not to me. How could one being create everything. No matter what anyone says i will always have faith in the Greek Gods."

Yahoo people gave poor Zach some very cruel answers; most of them were along atheist lines but a few criticized his belief from a Christian perspective of faith.

Well, Zach, the Greek Gods have their own family tree on Wikipedia.

You can visit it here.

So I think we can all agree that means they are VERY MUCH REAL.

Because otherwise they would NOT have a family tree on Wikipedia.

Do the Simpsons or Family Guy have a family tree on Wikipedia?

They do not.

That's because they are not real.

Not real like the Greek gods.

Something has to responsible for all that feta cheese.

Do you think stuffed olives or grape leaves just came about by themselves?

Do you think baklava could have been invented by mortals?

You do?

Well, then I pity you.

An Argument That's Lasted Centuries Now

Grading Richard Brautigan's Homework

Poetry is rather like Eternity's homework.

Yes, Eternity by Calvin Klein.

That's why I capitalized it.


The two virtues to which most "serious" literature aspires are timeliness and timelessness.

Richard Brautigan's poetry, like Caesar's Gaul, can be divided into three parts.




Sadly, much of Brautigan's poetry falls into the first or third categories.

Let's look at a few examples and try to classify them.

Just Because

Just because people love your mind,
doesn't mean they have to have your body

(from Rommel Drives on Deep into Egypt, 1970).

I think it's safe to say that is a CATEGORY 2 Brautigan poem.

From the same collection, let's read...

Parking Omelet

Walking on crow eggs, mama,
listening to the shells break
like cars being parked on

Smell the tie-die?

That one's a clear CATEGORY 1.

And do we have to look far to find a CATEGORY 3?

Not at all.

A few pages later, we encounter...

The Elbow of a Dead Duck

A transparent bridge across
the elbow of a dead duck
beckons, friends, like a boiled
     radio station
toward a better understanding
of yourself in these crisis-ridden

Smell the watermelon frying on Pluto?

Almost any poem that has the word baby in it, when Richard's not actually talking about an HUGE AIR QUOTES HERE actual baby is usually a CATEGORY 1.

When Frank O'Hara says baby he can almost get away with it.

When Richard says it, he almost never gets away with it.

How about categorizing a few poems from The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster?

Flowers for Those You Love

Butcher, baker, candlestick maker,
anybody can get VD,
including those you love.

Please see a doctor
if you think you've got it.

You'll feel better afterwards
and so will those you love.

INTERESTING FACT: Richard once had a conversation with a crow on a park bench in San Francisco that lasted seventeen days. He was wearing a poncho the entire time. Richard, I mean. Not the crow.

Okay, that's a clear CATEGORY 1. You can smell the Haight-Ashbury from here in that poem.

And the weed.

The Rebirth of Granola.

Although, one must admit, it would make a pretty funny answering machine message in 2010.

And here's another one that's obnoxiously very CATEGORY 1....all amber sunglasses and shit like that...

Horse Child Breakfast

Horse child breakfast,
what are you doing to me?
with your long blonde legs?
with your long blonde face?
with your long blonde hair?
with your perfect blonde ass?

I swear I'll never be the
    same again!

Horse child breakfast,
what you've done to me
I want done forever.

Here. I'm taking off the training wheels. You're going to do this on your own. How would you categorize the following Brautigan poem from the same collection?


I lift the toilet seat
     as if it were the nest of a bird
and I see cat tracks
     all around the edge of the bowl.

Did you get it?

If you said CATEGORY 2, give yourself a great big pat on the latissimus dorsi.

Okay, your head is a little swollen now.

But I am proud of you.

You've earned it.

Now try this one.

It's Going Down

Magic is the color of the thing you wear
with a dragon for a button
and a lion for a lamp
with a carrot for a collar
and a salmon for a zipper.

       Hey! You're turning me on, baby.
       That's the way it's going down.


Did you vacillate between CATEGORY 3 and CATEGORY 1?

Or did you remember the "baby rule" cited above?

Good job.

INTERESTING FACT: Richard was tone-deaf but loved to sing.

That's right. It's a seventies poem. There's nothing in there that requires Pluto or watermelon sandwiches as an explanation. The drugs of the seventies pretty much explain it all. It's your typical pothead poem.

We couldn't make it look any more like a pothead's scribbled drawings on his or her notebook--even if we tried for years.

I think this next one is pretty easy. You tell me though.


A glass of lemonade
travels across this world
like the eye of the cyclops.

If a child doesn't drink
the lemonade,
     Ulysses will.

Did you go with CATEGORY 3?

It has Pluto written all over it.

True, he did try for a Homeric reference or two, but the poem's still on Pluto in its skivvies eating that fried watermelon sandwich.

INTERESTING FACT: Richard Brautigan's poetry can be enjoyed while playing with your balls. If you are a man, I mean. It allows one to pleasantly split up concentration between the two acts.

Just one more...this one from his best poetry collection, which could well have been the inspiration for Lost in Translation, the book June 30th, June 30th. (Dell, 1978).

After the Performance of the
Black Tent Theater Group on the Shores
of the Nagara River

The actresses without their make-up,
their costumes, their roles
are returned to being mortals.
I watch them eat quietly in a small inn.
They have no illusions, almost plain
     like saints,
     perfect in their

          June 7, 1976

Did you say CATEGORY 2?

Don't lie and change your answer if you didn't.

I'm going to look and see what you wrote down, so it will go much better for you if you just tell the truth now.

You did!

Good job.


Life Goals, Age 21

1.) I have my cock in a woman's pussy while another man has his cock in her ass
2.) I have my cock in a woman's ass while another man has his cock in her pussy
3.) me with 2 women at same time
4.) I have my cock in a woman's pussy while a man has his cock in her ass and another has his cock in her mouth
5.) I have my cock in a woman's ass while a man has his cock in her pussy and another has his cock in her mouth
6.) I have my cock in a woman's mouth while a man has his cock in her ass and another has his cock in her pussy
7.) be part of an orgy
8.) be part of a gangbang

No One Has Popped My Comment Cherry Yet

on this virginal (cough) new blog.

I'm thinking of auctioning it off to the highest bidder.

Please be "gentle."

I haven't walked down this dark path before (cough cough).

If I fall asleep, wake me up when we get to the good part, okay?

Thursday, March 11, 2010





Wednesday, March 10, 2010


Bags by Simon Wald-Lasowski.

Courtesy of the Fluffy Lychees site.

You can see more of the artist's "found object" art here: Born Paris. 1980.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

20+ Random Hotties from the Editions P.O.L Catalogue

Sure they can all write.

But who are the hotties in the P.O.L. catalogue?

This is totally random but I thought I'd list twenty who are clearly the Beautiful People. For now. Until they get old. Or sick. Or their plane crashes, etc. etc.

Or until you meet them and find out they are affreux or affreuse, and that face might as well be a Halloween mask for all that's going on inside.

I'm joking.

There is no inside.

It's so unfair, because of course I'm picking out the young ones and Everything is Beautiful in Its Own Way, right?

My mom's 86 and I think she's beautiful. Of course I do. I'm a gay man.

But looking at it from a "who's going to sell on the magazine cover," evil perspective...

You can check them out at the website.

Go under "Auteurs" and there are pics of almost everybody.


1. J.-R.G. Le Camus / Antoine du Parc (see pic above)* I get weak in the kneepads.

2. Bailly Pierric (and he hails from the Jura, which is where my favorite French cheese comes from.)

3. Thomas Braichet. Why the long face? Oh, who cares...it looks great on you.

4. Olivier Cadiot. Looks like the sort of guy who would be fun to have beat you up while kissing you. That sexy mean look. I'm joking. Rape is always bad. I saw the LIFETIME movie too.

5. Hugues de Chanay. The intelligence, one senses, would be an obstacle.

6. Michael Delisle. Funny, he looks more like an American date-rapist than a French author. But. It. Works. For. Me.

7. Aiat Fayez. Mysterious. Preppy cute.

8. Fred Leal. Because he looks like every other gay man looked in 1977.

9. Antonin Potoski. Take your shades off, Antonin. You're already French.

10. Atiq Rahimi. From Afghanistan. The hegemonic threat you represent to him might spice things up in bed.

Tarkos is the hottest guy in there, but he's dead. Sigh.

If you go to Eric Meunie's photo you will get a real treat. Watch what happens after a second or two. Then again. Very cute animation lol!


1. Danielle Collobert. She's dead. But she's still gorgeous.

2. Marguerite Duras. Even when she looked like a shrunken apple she was gorgeous with her awful wisdom. And did you ever see her picture from the period she's describing in The Lover? My God.

3. Catherine de Richaud. That intelligence in the eyes is sexy. Think Charlotte Rampling, even though she doesn't resemble her superficially. That quality.

4. Suzanne Doppelt. That waif thing.

5. Judith Elbaz. The photo is priceless.

6. Rochelle Fack. She looks like a friggin supermodel. And she's a serious author published by P.O.L. Yeah, life is fair. Right.

7. Liliane Giraudon. Gotta love anyone who founds a serious magazine named Banana Split. Plus she looks damn good. Thanks, Sun & Moon, for publishing her.

8. Camille Laurens. How old is that photo? Okay, it's a woman. Back off. Anyway, splendide.

9. Edith Msika. Marvelous. Reminds me a tad of Liz Fraser of the Cocteau Twins. Lovely bio. See below. **

10. Anne Portugal. Makes age look sexy.

Oh, Nathalie Quintane looks like a pop music star. Too cute. And I've been saying "Madame Quintane." I should wash my mouth out with soap.

And Leslie Kaplan is very cute and elfin looking.

Ryoko Sekiguchi also has a face it would be a shame not to commit to film.

Julie Wolkenstein's photo is rather epic too.

Isn't superficiality wonderful?


It's not.

Okay, it is.

*Had to include these bios...a double slug of poison...Antoine started life as an objet trouve in the public garden of one of the larger towns in the provinces. His love of Virgil, Mallarme and Little Nemo...and I'm happy that J.-R.G. Le Camus (and don't forget that camus actually means something in French besides Albert...but no, he doesn't have that sort of nose at all...thank God...) was an architect and prostitute both...cum grano salis or cum grano cum...these bios...

Dès l’enfance, J.-R.G. Le Camus s’est vu en homme de lettres et rien d’autre. Les aléas de l’existence, cependant, l’ont contraint à être “nez" dans une entreprise de Grasse, marin, détective, conseiller financier, architecte, prostitué, agent de change, garde du corps, répétiteur de sanscrit et quelque temps secrétaire-archiviste auprès de son presque homonyme, l’écrivain controversé Renaud Camus. Avec L’Amour il signe son premier roman, bien qu’il ait tenu un rôle important, déjà, dans les précédents volumes des Églogues.

Antoine du Parc est entré dans la vie comme objet trouvé dans le jardin public d’une grande ville de province. La volonté de s’en sortir, l’amour de Virgile, de Mallarmé et de Little Nemo, l’intérêt et la confiance que très tôt lui ont témoigné les écrivains Renaud Duvert et Denise Camus lui ont permis de surmonter le traumatisme initial et de s’introduire dans cette histoire, Les Églogues, puis d’y assumer, avec le temps et L’Automne, un rôle d’auteur à part entière. Militant des droits de l’homme, animateur culturel en cité sensible, Tony du Parc est aussi, sous divers pseudonymes, journaliste à Télérama, producteur à France Culture et ghost-writer pour Mme Royal sur les questions d’intégration.

**Édith Msika, née en 1957.
Ecrit très peu, voire pas du tout.
N’aime pas écrire. Repousse le moment d’écrire.
Écrit à reculons.
Écrit dans ses rêves. Rêve qu’elle écrit.
Laisse passer les années sans écrire.
Potentiellement écrivante.
Attend que quelque chose se passe pour écrire.
Mais rien ne se passe.
Écrit que rien ne se passe.
Préfère faire du vélo plutôt qu’écrire.
Se demande comment écrire en faisant du vélo.
Écrira quand elle sera morte.
Après. On verra. Ne meurt pas.


903 Titles But Only 213 Authors

Here are all the authors that P.O.L has published...well discounting those subsumed under anthologies, etc....

I'm impressed with how cosmopolitan their catalogue is, and how commited they are to world literature--not just Eurolit.

I'm daunted by the Divide. So many of these authors didn't really cross the Atlantic in any substantial fashion.

I want to read as many of them as I can stand lol.

I just did a count to see how many I've already read.

I'm embarrassed to say 37.

And that's including the obvious ones like Ovid, Reznikoff and Saint Augstine.

Oh well, you know I'd probably only love a dozen of the authors I haven't read.

So should I mourn the authors I haven't had a chance to detest as much as the ones with which I haven't had the chance yet to fall in love?

How do we put our imaginary griefs and joys on the scale?

Should we imagine an imaginary balance?

Alferi Pierre

Pierre Alferi est né en 1963 à Paris.
Fondateur avec Suzanne...

Alphant Marianne

Naissance à Paris en 1945. École normale supérieure & agrégation de philosophie. Enseignement en région...

Amigorena Santiago H.

Santiago H. Amigorena est né à Buenos Aires en 1962. Après nombre d’exils, il a écrit une trentaine de films,...

Antoine du Parc J.R.G. Le Camus &

Dès l’enfance, J.-R.G. Le Camus s’est vu en homme de lettres et rien d’autre. Les aléas de...

Aperghis Georges

Georges Aperghis est né à Athènes en 1945. Installé à Paris dès 1963, il mène depuis lors une carrière...

Ashbery John

Né en 1927 à Rochester près de New York, fils de Chester Frederick et Helen Lawrence Ashbery, John Ashbery a fait...

Aumont Jacques

Né sous le signe du cheval et celui des poissons, a fait des études dites « scientifiques » (c'est-à-dire...

Badinter Elisabeth

Née le 5 mars 1944. Mariée. Trois enfants.

Badiou Alain

Alain Badiou est professeur émérite de philosophie à l’École Normale Supérieure. Il dirige au Seuil la...

Bailly Pierric

Né le 14 août 1982 à Champagnole dans le Jura.

Balestrini Nanni

Né à Milan, Nanni Balestrini vit entre Rome et Paris. Poète, membre du célèbre groupe des Novissimi, il...

Banti Anna

Anna Banti (1895-1985), historienne et critique d’art, romancière et traductrice. En compagnie de son mari,...

Barret-Kriegel Blandine

Née le 1er décembre 1943 à Neuilly-sur-Seine, elle fait ses études secondaires aux lycées Jules Ferry et...

Bayamack-Tam Emmanuelle

Emmanuelle Bayamack-Tam est née en 1966 à Marseille. Vit et enseigne en banlieue parisienne. Est membre fondateur...

Beaujour Jérôme

Né et vit à Paris.

Beauregard Nane

Une femme derrière le divan.

Belletto René

Né le 11 septembre 1945 à Lyon 2e à l’hôpital de l’Hôtel-Dieu.
Origines espagnoles et...

Bellour Raymond

1939. Naît à Lyon. Etudes de lettres. Quelques années de conservatoire et de théâtre. Critique de cinéma...

Benchetrit André

Né en 1955, à Casablanca.

Bene Carmelo

Carmelo Bene est né en 1937 à Campi Salentina, dans les Pouilles. On raconte qu’à l’âge de neuf ans,...

Biette Jean-Claude

Né à Paris le 6 novembre 1942.
Mort le 10 juin 2003.

Blanchard Daniel

Né à Paris en 1934. Études d'histoire à la Sorbonne.
De 1957 à 1964 participe aux activités du groupe...

Bober Robert

Né le 17 novembre 1931 à Berlin.
Août 1933, la famille Bober fuit le nazisme. Arrivée à Paris.

Bouillère Olivier

Olivier Bouillère est né en 1970. Architecte DPLG, licencié en philosophie. Il vit à Paris.

Bouyssi Nicolas

Né le 21 mars 1972, en banlieue parisienne.

Boyer Frédéric

Frédéric Boyer est né en 1961 à Cannes.
Il a enseigné la littérature comparée dans les universités de...

Braichet Thomas

Thomas Braichet est né à bois-guillaume en 1977. Il a réalisé bandes-son et musiques et schèmes et polices de...

Brebel Sébastien

Né en 1971 à Argenteuil.

Buin Yves

Yves Buin est écrivain et psychiatre.

Cadiot Olivier

Né en 1956 à Paris.

Campo Rossana

Rossana Campo est née à Gènes en 1963. Elle vit actuellement à Rome.

Camus Renaud

10 août, naissance à Chamalières, département du Puy-de-Dôme.


Carrère Emmanuel

Né à Paris, le 9 décembre 1957.

Cavazzoni Ermanno

Ermanno Cavazzoni est né à Reggio Emilia (Italie) en 1947. Il est professeur d’esthétique à l’université de...

Cendrey Jean-Yves

Né à Nevers en 1957.

Ceton Jean Pierre

Jean Pierre Ceton vit à Paris, France.
« J’essaie d’écrire une langue qui me permette de raconter...

Cholodenko Marc

Né le 11 février 1950 à Paris.

Collobert Danielle

23 juillet 1940
Naissance à Rostrenen, au centre de la Bretagne.
Sa mère, institutrice, étant nommée...

Cooper Dennis

Dennis Cooper est né en 1953. Critique d’art, il vit à Los Angeles.

Copfermann Emile

Né en 1931, Emile Copfermann passe son enfance à Paris. Le 24 septembre 1942, ses parents sont arrêtés et...

Couderc Nicole

Née à Brive-La-Gaillarde, en Corrèze. Professeur de lettres dans un lycée de la banlieue parisienne. Mariée à...

Cugny Laurent

Laurent Cugny est né le 14 avril 1955.

•Django d’or du meilleur orchestre français à...

Daive Jean

Écrivain français, né le 13 mai 1941 à Bonsecours, bourg frontalier du Nord, marqué par une double...

Daney Serge

« Serge Daney est né en 1944. Il ne connaîtra jamais son père. Son enfance se passe à Paris, près de sa...

Darley Emmanuel

Né en 1963.
A publié un premier roman chez P.O.L puis trois autres chez Verdier et Actes Sud. Il écrit...

Darrieussecq Marie

Marie Darrieussecq est née le 3 janvier 1969 au Pays Basque. Elle est écrivain et psychanalyste. Elle vit plutôt...

de Chanay Hugues

Hugues de Chanay (né en 1965) est maître de conférences à l’Université Lyon 2 où il enseigne la linguistique...

de Fontenay Elisabeth

Élisabeth de Fontenay enseigne la philosophie à la Sorbonne.

de La Ciotat Jean

Date de naissance : 31 mars 1965
Lieu de naissance : Rosny-sur-Seine
Taille : 1 m 70 -...

de Richaud Catherine

Vit à Paris et travaille en prison.

Deblé Colette

Colette Deblé écrit pourquoi elle peint. Peint pour ne pas parler. Alors pourquoi écrire ? Écrire pour dire ce...

Delisle Michael

Michael Delisle est né en 1959 au Québec, où il vit et a publié plusieurs recueils de poèmes.

Delmas Claude
Né le 20 mai 1932 à Rivesaltes (Pyrénées Orientales). Licencié en droit, Montpellier, 1954. Certificat d'aptitude...

Deluy Henri

Henri Deluy, né en 1931 à Marseille. Actuellement directeur de la Biennale internationale des poètes en...

Depussé Marie

Marie Depussé, née le 31/12/1935, vivante, jusqu’à ce jour.
Professeur de littérature (ENS, agrégation...

Desbrusses Louise

Louise Desbrusses vit et écrit. Ici ou là. Et parfois ailleurs. Plutôt souvent là ou même ailleurs. mais ce...

Dominique François

François Dominique est né à Paris en 1943. Il enseigna d’abord le droit public à l’Université de Besançon,...

Doppelt Suzanne

Fonde et dirige avec Pierre Alferi, la revue littéraire...

Doppelt et Portugal

Pour une biographie et une bibliographie propres à chaque auteur, se référer aux fiches

Doris Stacy

Stacy Doris est l’auteur de Knot (University of Georgia Press à paraître avril 2006), Conference...

Dort Bernard

Né le 29 septembre 1929 à Metz. Il suit ses études au lycée d’Auch puis au lycée Charlemagne à Paris....

Dubois Caroline

Vit et travaille à Paris.

Dupin Jacques

1927 Naissance le 4 mars, à Privas, Ardèche. Fils de Pierre Dupin, médecin-chef de l’hôpital psychiatrique...

Duras Marguerite

1914 : Naissance de Marguerite Donnadieu à Gia-Dinh, près de Saigon. Son père est professeur de...

Dustan Guillaume

Guillaume Dustan est né en 1995, ou 96, en écrivant, puis en publiant, Dans ma chambre (P.O.L, septembre...

Elbaz Judith

Judith Elbaz est née à Montréal en 1971. Elle vit à Paris, où elle danse et enseigne le tango argentin. Elle...

Fabre Daniel

Daniel Fabre est directeur d’études à l’École des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales où il enseigne...

Fack Rochelle

Rochelle Fack est née en 1975. Elle fait du théâtre et travaille dans le cinéma. Les Gages est son...

Farber Manny

Né en 1917, Manny Farber a poursuivi depuis 1941 une double carrière de critique de films et de peintre. Il a...

Fargues Nicolas

Nicolas Fargues est né en 1972. Enfance au Cameroun, au Liban puis en Corse. Études de lettres à la Sorbonne....

Fayet Bénédicte

Née en 1955. Vit et travaille à Paris.

Fayez Aiat

Né en 1979.

Filhol Elisabeth

Née le 1er mai 1965 à Mende en Lozère. Études de gestion à l’université Paris-Dauphine.

Fosse Jon

Jon Fosse est né en 1959. Depuis ses débuts en 1983, avec le roman Rouge, noir, il a publié huit romans et...

Fourcade Dominique

Dominique Fourcade est né en 1938. Il vit et travaille à Paris. Il écrit de la poésie depuis 1961. Il a...

Fourreau Thierry

Thierry Fourreau est né en 1961. Il vit et travaille à Paris.

Frémon Jean

Né en 1946. Directeur de galerie.

Froger Rémi

Né en 1956, dans la vallée du Loir. Vit et travaille à Cahors.

Garnier Pascal

Pascal Garnier est né le 4 juillet 1949 à Paris. Nouvelliste, romancier, il a également beaucoup écrit pour la...

Gavarry Gérard

Gérard Gavarry a longtemps vécu parmi ses oncles et tantes d’Afrique de l’Ouest, loin de Paris qui l’a vu...

Géraud Jacques

Né en 1947 dans le Lot-et-Garonne. Normalien, agrégé de lettres. Vit à Paris, enseigne dans les Yvelines.

Gil Isabelle

Formation technique en photographie puis études d’Arts Plastiques à l’université Paris 8.
Réside en...

Giraudon Liliane

Née le 13 avril 1946.

Cofondatrice avec Jean-Jacques...

Godard Jean-Luc

Jean-Luc Godard est né à Paris, le 3 décembre 1930, de parents suisses.

Également aux éditions P.O.L,...

Gordey Lydie

Née en 1955. Vit actuellement à Paris.

Gran Iegor

Naissance à Moscou. A 10 ans, sa famille s’installe en France. Aucune notion de français à l’époque....

Grangaud Michelle

Michelle Grangaud, née en 1941 à Alger. Vit à Paris.

Guglielmi Joseph Julien

Né à Marseille de parents italiens (Ligurie), longtemps instituteur, vit et travaille à Paris et à...

Handschin P.N.A.

P.N.A. Handschin est né le 7 octobre 1971 à Besançon.

« Un jour, il y a longtemps sans doute, si...

Henri Catherine

Catherine Henri est née le 23 juin 1951 au Mans. École normale supérieure et agrégation de lettres. Vit et...

Herzog Werner

Werner Herzog est né le 5 septembre 1942 à Munich. Il a écrit son premier scénario à l’âge de quinze ans....

Hocquard Emmanuel

Emmanuel Hocquard est né d’excellente humeur, à Paris, en avril 1937. Ainsi commence sa bio-bibliographie. En...

Houdart Célia

Célia Houdart est née le 17 mars 1970 à Boulogne Billancourt. Après des études de lettres et de philosophie et...

Izquierdo Agustina

Agustina Izquierdo est née en 1939 à Osséja, en France, dans une famille de réfugiés qui fuyaient la dictature...

Joseph Manuel

Né en 1965 à Aubervilliers (Seine-Saint-Denis).

Recette partielle donnée par Anne-Laure Blusseau...

Jouet Jacques

Jacques Jouet est né en 1947 à Viry-Châtillon.
Depuis 1983, il est membre de l’Oulipo (Ouvroir de...

Juliet Charles

Charles Juliet est né en 1934 à Jujurieux (Ain). À trois mois, il est placé dans une famille de paysans suisses...

Kaplan Leslie

Leslie Kaplan est née à New-York en 1943, elle a été élevée à Paris dans une famille américaine, elle écrit...

Keller Blandine

Née à Bordeaux le 23 Février 1944 Blandine Keller a

•grandi à Versailles (ancêtre conservateur du...

Kiarostami Abbas

Né à Téhéran le 22 juin 1940, Abbas Kiarostami est diplômé de la faculté des Beaux-Arts de Téhéran. Il...

Kité Moi

Pour l’écriture de son livre Lamour Dieu, Katalin...

Konwicki Tadeusz

Né en 1926. Écrivain et cinéaste polonais.

Král Petr

Petr Král, né le 4 septembre 1941 à Prague, vit à Paris depuis 1968 ; écrit en français. De surréaliste...

Lapeyre Patrick

Patrick Lapeyre est né en juin 1949 à Paris. Il est auteur de six romans, tous publiés aux Éditions...

Laporte Roger
Né à Lyon le lundi 20 juillet 1925. Décédé le 24 avril 2001 à Montpellier. Marié, il avait trois enfants....

Lassalle Jacques

Acteur, auteur, metteur en scène.
Né le 6 juillet 1936 à Clermont-Ferrand.

Élève du Conservatoire...

Lassalle et Rivière

Pour une biographie et une bibliographie propres à chaque auteur, se référer aux fiches

Laurans Jacques

Lorsque le sujet autobiographique domine le fond de quelques petits livres, la biographie d’un auteur y...

Laurens Camille

Camille Laurens est née le 6 novembre 1957 à Dijon. Agrégée de lettres, elle a enseigné en Normandie puis au...

Le Bot Marc

« J’ai écrit plusieurs essais sur l’art du XXe siècle, en particulier sur des artistes de la seconde...

Léal Fred

Né en 1968. Exerce la médecine à Bordeaux.

Léger Nathalie

Nathalie Léger est née en 1960. Elle est directrice adjointe de l’

Leiris Michel

Né à Paris le 20 avril 1901, Michel Leiris participe au mouvement surréaliste de 1924 à 1929. Dès 1930, il...

Lejeune Philippe

Né le 13 août 1938.
Élève de l’École Normale Supérieure (Ulm) de 1959 à 1963 ; agrégé de...

Levé Edouard

Levé est né le premier janvier mille neuf cent soixante-cinq.
Il est mort le 15 octobre 2007.

Lewis Heather

Heather Lewis a publié de son vivant deux romans noirs, House rules et The second suspect ,...

Licari Pascal

Né le premier octobre à Talence, département de la Gironde – mais très vite se retrouve en banlieue...

Lindon Mathieu

Mathieu Lindon est né en 1955. Il est journaliste littéraire à Libération.

Liron Yannick

Né en 1962.

Lodoli Marco

Marco Lodoli a une quarantaine d’années. Il a reçu une éducation catholique. Il enseigne la littératre...

Lucas Claude

Né à La Baule en 1943, Claude Lucas a passé une partie de sa jeunesse à Saint-Malo. Une adolescence perturbée...

Lucot Hubert

Hubert Lucot est né en 1935 à Paris. Il se ressent comme écrivain depuis l’âge de 8 ans (Au pays des hommes...

Majan Raphaël

Raphaël Majan est né en 1963 à Saint-Sébastien. Fonctionnaire, il a travaillé au ministère de...

Manganaro Jean-Paul

Jean-Paul Manganaro enseigne la littérature italienne contemporaine à l’Université de Lille III. Essayiste et...

Manière Michel

Michel Manière est né en 1948 en Bourgogne.
Michel Manière anime parallèlement des ateliers d'écriture.

Marcheschi Jean-Paul

Né en 1951 en Corse, Jean-Paul Marcheschi vit et travaille à Paris.

Découvrez le site de

Marienské Héléna

Je suis une femme, et un homme.
Je m’endors à l’extrême fin de la nuit et m’éveille à...

Markson David

Né le 20 décembre 1927 à Albany (État de New York).
Vit actuellement à New York.

Massé Ludovic
L’Enracinement et le temps des leçons

7 janvier 1900
Naissance de Ludovic Clément...

Massera Jean-Charles

Jean-Charles Massera est né le 31 mars 1965 à Mantes-la-Jolie. Incapable de se concentrer sur les livres de la...

Mathews Harry

Né à New-York en 1930. Etudie musique et musicologie à Harvard, où il est diplômé en 1952. Vient en France la...

Matthieussent Brice

Né le 12/01/50 à Paris
vit et travaille à Paris et Marseille

Diplômé de l’E.N.S....

Matton François

François Matton est né à Paris en 1969.
Après avoir effectué ses études à l'École d'art et de design de...

Maulpoix Jean-Michel

Né en 1952, Jean-Michel Maulpoix est l’auteur d’une vingtaine d’ouvrages poétiques, parmi lesquelsUne...

Meens Dominique

Né le 17 novembre 1951. Vit à La Croix, orée de Bercé. Sans emploi.

Mekas Jonas

Jonas Mekas est né en 1922 en Lituanie. Il vit aux Etats Unis depuis 1949 où il a commencé à tenir un journal...

Mémoire Danielle

Née en 1947.

Mercier Eléonore

Éléonore Mercier exerce son métier de travailleuse sociale à l 'écoute des femmes victimes de violences...

Messina Aïcha Liviana

Aïcha Liviana Messina alterne ses lieux de résidence entre Paris où elle est modèle vivant et Santiago du Chili...

Meunié Eric

De ma précédente notice sur ce site, je garde la dernière phrase :
L’autofiction préfigure un temps...

Michard Philippe

Philippe Michard est né en mille neuf cent cinquante-neuf. Il est médecin à Paris.

Millet Richard

Richard Millet est né à Viam, en Corrèze, en 1953. Il vit et travaille à Paris. Son ouvrage Le Sentiment de...

Mitterrand Frédéric

Né le 21 août 1947 à Paris 16e. Licencié d’histoire et de géographie de la faculté de Nanterre, diplômé de...

Mme Wiener

La femme de Chester Steven Wiener est née dans le Connecticut, ce qui est un peu comme le XVIIe arrondissement de...

Molnar Katalin

NOM d’état civil : MOLNÁR
Prénoms usuels : Katalin pour l’écriture, Kati pour la...

Monnier Pascalle

Pascalle Monnier est née en 1958 à Bordeaux.

Montalbetti Christine

Christine Montalbetti est née au Havre et vit à Paris.

Morazzoni Marta

Enseignante, spécialiste de philosophie.

Msika Edith

Édith Msika, née en 1957.
Ecrit très peu, voire pas du tout.
N’aime pas écrire. Repousse le moment...

N'Diaye Catherine

1975-1981 : Professeur de philosophie.
1982-1983 : Attachée au cabinet du Directeur général de...

NDiaye Marie

Marie NDiaye est née à Pithiviers en 1967. Elle a publié son premier roman, Quant au riche avenir, à...

Noël Bernard

Bernard Noël est né le 19 novembre 1930, à Sainte-Geneviève-sur-Argence, dans l’Aveyron. Les événements qui...

Novarina Valère

Valère Novarina est né en 1947 à Genève. Il passe son enfance et son adolescence à Thonon, sur la rive...

Ollier Claude

1922 : Naissance à Paris de Claude, premier enfant de Marguerite Valent et Maurice Ollier, assureur. La...

Oster Daniel

Né le 15 mai 1938 à Paris.
Agrégé des lettres. Docteur ès lettres.
Romancier et...


Ovide, en latin Publius Ovidius Naso. Son surnom (Naso) lui vient de son nez proéminent. Né le 20 mars 43...

Pagano Emmanuelle

Emmanuelle Pagano est née en septembre 1969 dans l'Aveyron.
Trois enfants nés en 1991, 1995 et 2003.

Palmer Michael

Michael Palmer est né à New York en 1943 et vit en Californie.

Parian Anne

Née à Marseille en 1964.
Occupée pour l’instant à Paris.

Pastenague Ed

Voir Tsepeneag.

Patocka Jan

Jan Patocka, philosophe tchèque, est né en 1907 à Turnov. Il a étudié la philosophie avec Husserl à Fribourg,...

Pennequin Charles

Charles Pennequin est né le 15 novembre 1965
à Cambrai, dans le Nord de la France.
À l'heure actuelle,...

Perec Georges

Georges Perec est né à Paris le 7 mars 1936. Ses parents étaient des émigrés d’origine juive polonaise. Il...

Portugal Anne

Anne Portugal est née à Angers (Maine-et-Loire) en 1949. Elle vit et travaille à Paris.

Également aux...

Potoski Antonin

Antonin Potoski est né à Nancy en 1974. Diplômé de l'Ecole Nationale Supérieure de la Photographie, il vit en...

Prigent Christian

Christian Prigent est né en Bretagne en 1945. Professeur de lettres dans l’enseignement secondaire de 1967 à...

Quignard Pascal

Né en 1948 à Verneuil-sur-Avre. Il a enseigné à l’Université de Vincennes et à l’École Pratique des...

Quintane Nathalie

Je m’appelle encore Nathalie Quintane. Je n’ai pas changé de date de naissance. J’habite toujours au même...

Rahimi Atiq

Atiq Rahimi est né en 1962 à Kaboul (Afghanistan), il vit et travaille aujourd’hui à Paris. Il a fait ses...

Ransmayr Christoph

Christoph Ransmayr est né en 1954 à Wels en Haute-Autriche. Après des études de philosophie à Vienne, il a...

Rappaport Mark

Mark Rappaport, new-yorkais d’origine, a travaillé comme monteur avant de réaliser ses propres films, parmi...

Redonnet Marie

Reznikoff Charles

Charles Reznikoff (1894-1976) fut considéré comme une des figures du mouvement « objectiviste » aux USA...

Robin Patrice

1953 : Naissance dans les Deux-Sèvres.
1963 : Fils unique du quincaillier de la...

Rolin Jean

Né en 1949 à Boulogne-Billancourt.
Écrivain et journaliste.

Rollet Patrice
Patrice Rollet est né à Bordeaux en 1951. Il est membre du comité de rédaction de la revue Trafic depuis...

Rosenbaum Jonathan

Entre1987 à 2007, Jonathan Rosenbaum était critique au Chicago reader (il collabora aussi très...

Rossi Paul Louis

Paul Louis Rossi, né à Nantes (Loire-Atlantique) – ascendances bretonnes et italiennes. Chroniqueur de...

Roubaud Jacques

Né en 1932.
Compositeur de mathématique (retraité) et de poésie (en activité).
Membre de...

Royet-Journoud Claude

Né à Lyon le 8 septembre 1941. A publié une tétralogie et dirigé plusieurs revues.

Sa femme

La femme de Chester Steven Wiener est née dans le Connecticut, ce qui est un peu comme le XVIIe arrondissement de...

Sadin Eric

Développe une activité polymorphe (textes poétiques, théoriques, dispositifs multimédias, rédacteur en chef de...

Saint Augustin

354-430. Né à Thagaste en Numidie. Père de l’Église. Étudie la philosophie, adhère au manichéisme et...

Sallenave Danièle

Danièle Sallenave est née en 1940 à Angers. Normalienne, agrégée de lettres, traductrice de l’italien (La...

Savigny Yves

Yves Savigny est né à Vendôme en 1967. Il enseigne la littérature contemporaine à la faculté des lettres de...

Schefer Jean Louis

Jean Louis Schefer, né à Paris en 1938.
Famille d’origine allemande (comtes Schefer von Carlwaldt) établie...

Scohy Orion

Conçu en septembre 1973, et donc né de manière fort prévisible en juin 1974.
Études littéraires,...

Sekiguchi Ryoko

Née en 1970 à Tokyo.
Publie en japonais depuis 1988, vit à Paris depuis 1997, est traduite en français...

Smirou Sébastien

Sébastien Smirou est né en 1972.
Vit à Paris.

Sobelman Isabelle

Stead C. K.

C. K. Stead vit à Auckland (Nouvelle Zélande), il est marié, a trois enfants. Il a été professeur d’anglais...

Tali Farid

Né en août 1977.
Vit à Paris.
Son premier texte, Prosopopée, a paru en janvier...

Tamaro Susanna

Susanna Tamaro est née à Trieste en 1957. Elle est diplômée du Centro sperimentale di cinematografia et a...

Tarkos Christophe

Je suis né en 1963. Je n’existe pas. Je fabrique des poèmes.
1. je suis lent, d’une grande...

Tercinet Alain

Né à Chambéry (Savoie) le 29 janvier 1935, Alain Tercinet découvre le jazz en 1948. Devenu journaliste...

Tsepeneag Dumitru

Né le 14 février 1937 à Bucarest, il est dans les années 60 et 70, avec le poète Leonid Dimov, le chef de file...

Valabrègue Frédéric

Né en 1952 à Marseille où il vit. Enseignant d’histoire de l’art aux Beaux-Arts de Marseille-Luminy et à...

Varetz Patrick
Patrick Varetz est né en 1958 à Marles-les-Mines, dans le Pas-de-Calais, où il a passé sa première nuit dans un...

Vassalli Sebastiano

D’origine gênoise, Sebastiano Vassali est né en 1941. Il a publié à ce jour une quinzaine de livres, poèmes...

Vassiliev Anatoli

Ne sont donnés ici que quelques points de repère et les productions les plus importantes, ainsi que les moments...

Vatimbella Nicolas

Né en 1956. Président de l’association In-Ouïr (http://in.ouir.online.fr).

Villeneuve Eric

Éric Villeneuve est né le 22 mars 1959, à Lyon.
Bien qu’« Eric Villeneuve » ne soit pas un nom de...

Vitarelli Eugenio

Ancien pêcheur, représentant de commerce puis directeur d’entreprise, Eugenio Vitarelli, né en 1927, vit...

Vitez Antoine

Antoine Vitez naît à Paris le 20 décembre 1930 dans le XVe arrondissement. Paul Vitez, son père,...

Viton Jean-Jacques

Né en 1933. Vit à Marseille (Bouches-du-Rhône, France). Enfance en Angleterre (Londres, 1934-1940). À Marseille...

Walker Sandy Jude

Sandy Jude Walker, auteur français de père canadien, vit dans un petit village des Pyrénées et passe certains...

Waternaux, Monnier, Fourcade

Pour une biographie et une bibliographie propres à chaque auteur, se référer aux fiches

Wiener Chet

Né à New York en 1961.
Publie des poèmes dans des revues françaises et américaines, quelques essais sur la...

Winckler Martin

Naissance de Marc Zaffran, à Alger, dans une famille juive. Il a une sœur aînée, Claude ; il aura...

Wittig Monique

Monique Wittig, diplômée des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales, est Professeur à l’Université d’Arizona....

Wolkenstein Julie

Julie Wolkenstein, née en 1968, enseigne la littérature comparée à l’Université de Caen. L’Excuse...

Yargekov Nina

Nina Yargekov est née en 1980.
Elle promet de défendre du mieux qu’elle peut les couleurs de la lettre Y,...