brothercyst: May 2008

Thursday, May 29, 2008

back


I returned. More about that later, maybe. In the meantime I have an insane number of things to do, like sit in the sun and avoid doing things I am supposed to be doing. Another priority is figuring out the cover of Midnight Picnic. Impetus sent me a really good one--it's pretty close, I think, to what the final one will be. And I have to think about possible short scripts I might write. What short film would you rather see, one called Planeful of Babies (horror film) or Stop Hitting Yourself, Grandma? Also I actually wrote a lot in Nicaragua, but by hand, so I need to transcribe it--there's that.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

traveling

back next week.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

The Smiley Face Killers again. This is supremely creepy.

(@#&*^%$%#^

Working on Strangelets now. Taking a break. I have some extract of rosemary that I inhale to increase wakefulness. In college I was on a train coming down to the city, sitting across from a well-dressed man in his fifties. I was coming down for a reading and he was coming to see his daughter sing or something--we conversed. I kept yawning. He asked if I was tired; I said yes; he opened his tasteful black briefcase and selected a little unmarked vial, unscrewed the top, and gave it to me: "Sniff this." So I did, and it woke me right up, not like a drug but like a more benevolent version of that time in middle school when the cops took us on a ride-along and put us in a prison cell and let us smell smelling salts, which just shock the shit out of your brain. So when I quit smoking many years later (recently), I bought some extracts of various plants to sniff for late night writing sessions.

Today I wrote some. What is with the weather, it is insane. It's May and it's cold. Doesn't anyone notice? I can't believe this isn't in the news or anything, it's like people just don't want to talk about it. I go outside and feel like I'm going insane. I walked around in the rain. I had lunch with my dad, who is awesome, and who now only eats certain foods and was concerned enough about the "sherry to black bean ratio" in his soup at Union Square Cafe to have a great deal more sherry poured into it. He was in town to see his friend's concert. Later I tried to go to a party but the party was canceled, sort of, and Erin and I had dinner instead.

We were talking about her novel and about mine and I said (about Strangelets), "No one's ever going to publish it, it's embarrassing and puerile, it lacks balance and certain things that narratives need, it's fucked," but when I came home today and read parts of it, I felt comforted, because it made me laugh viciously. I shouldn't, and generally try not to, think about anything in terms of its publishability. Richard Grayson refers to books that get published but go unread as having been "privished." I don't know, I feel okay about everything, everything is fine.

Monday, May 19, 2008

i thought about this twin peaks scene this weekend

I feel well. On Friday or Saturday night I slept at my friend's sister's apartment and when I woke up at about 7 a.m. I looked out a 30th floor window and saw the whole city just after dawn with all the traffic coming up Third Avenue, and I felt really impressed. On Sunday it rained and was strange all day; I saw many people and did many things. I haven't written any of Strangelets since Friday but I worked on other stuff all day Saturday and all this evening. I'm having awful luck with vacations this year. Another one was canceled; my travel companion had a death in the family. I should just wander somewhere on my own.

strangelets

awesome New York Times article about the LHC:

Or it could spit out something called a “strangelet” that would convert our planet to a shrunken dense dead lump of something called “strange matter.”

(thanks Kati)

Friday, May 16, 2008

tonight, the night

I feel I'm descending into a surreal dream world due to my insomnia. I have no idea what happened to me tonight. After work I was in Bryant Park talking to a stranger, I don't know her name or anything about her except she had an Apple laptop with a Hello Kitty sticker on it, and I was pointing at the clouds saying they were apocalyptic, and I was very nervous and shivering. Then I was at the International Center for Photography for an opening; Diane Keaton hosted it; I had wine and little snacks; I talked to a South African I was certain I already knew but didn't; I saw eerie shit like this. Then I went to Mike Edison's book party for I Have Fun Everywhere I go. There was a person in a full body gorilla suit. I saw John Reed. We both thought we knew each other, but we'd never met. I left. I came to be in possession of a strange, spiky asian fruit about the size and shape of a large balloon. This fruit is known as "the king of fruits" and is infamous for its terrible smell. I worked on the writing project that is not Strangelets. Ned was over. We watched the mesmerizing "Soulja Girl" viral video--several times. Ned stood on the fruit and it wheezed air and began to smell like garbage. Sometime in here my phone rang. A number I didn't know. I answered and someone said "Nick?" Recently I had gotten really angry because some girl who had my number had given her cell phone to her friends and they woke me up trying to call another Nick after I'd already gotten annoyed about it, so I said, "Who is this?" But it turned out to be the actor Danny Franzese, who had my number from a year ago in New Orleans and was looking for another Nick. Then Ned and I went uptown to have a drink. We took the spiky fruit. Everybody who we showed it to reacted. Women were clutching at it. We ran into this guy Brian at one bar and he came with us to other bars. We went to a hat store and the clerk put a fedora on my head. At the last bar I just started aggressively showing the fruit to people, trying to give it to them. Brian took a picture. A Spanish guy got in my face. "What is it? NO NO NO... what is it? What's in it??" He thought whatever was in it could get him high, and he wanted it. But I didn't give it to him. Next I showed it to a group of people, eight or nine girls, and they kept grabbing it and cooing over it. I wanted to smash it on the street. So Ned and Brian and I went outside. This crowd of girls followed, fawning over the fruit. I threw it up in the air as high as I could and it fell back to the asphalt and burst, pus-like yellow innards spurting out. (Brian took a picture.) I tasted them. So did the braver girls. The taste was like fermented mango. One girl took a video of the whole thing. I want that video. Some other things happened too--some things in McDonald's and earlier there were some things I left out, like one thing that involved unnecessarily broken glass, and how I came to have the fruit, which is a story I can't tell. Also Lost was on tonight but I missed it.
I feel I'm descending into a surreal dream world due to my insomnia. I have no idea what happened to me tonight. After work I was in Bryant Park talking to a stranger, I don't know her name or anything about her except she had an Apple laptop with a Hello Kitty sticker on it, and I was pointing at the clouds saying they were apocalyptic. Then I was at the International Center for Photography for an opening; Diane Keaton hosted it; I had wine and little snacks; I talked to a South African I was certain I already knew but didn't; I saw eerie shit like this. Then I went to Mike Edison's book party for I Have Fun Everywhere I go. There was a person in a full body gorilla suit. I saw John Reed. We both thought we knew each other, but we'd never met. I left. I came to be in possession of a strange, spiky asian fruit about the size and shape of a large balloon. This fruit is known as "the king of fruits" and is infamous for its terrible smell. I worked on the writing project that is not Strangelets. Ned was over. We watched the mesmerizing Soulja Girl video--several times. Ned stood on the fruit and it leaked air and began to smell like garbage. Sometime in here my phone rang. A number I didn't know. I answered and someone said "Nick?" Recently I had gotten really angry because some girl who had my phone number had given her cell phone to her friends and they woke me up trying to call another Nick, so I said, "Who is this?" But it turned out to be the talented Danny Franzese from Mean Girls and Bully, who had my number from a year ago in New Orleans and was looking for another Nick. Then Ned and I went uptown to have a drink. We took the spiky fruit. Everybody who saw it reacted. We ran into this guy Brian at one bar and he came with us to other bars. At the last bar I just started aggressively showing the fruit to people. A Spanish guy got in my face. "What is it? NO NO NO... what is it? What's in it??" He thought it could get him high, and he wanted it. But I didn't give it to him. I showed it to a group of people, eight or nine women, and they kept grabbing it and cooing over it. I wanted to smash it on the street. So Ned and Brian and I went outside. This crowd of women followed, fawning over the fruit. I threw it up in the air as high as I could and it fell back to the asphalt and burst, pus-like yellow innards spurting out. I tasted them. So did the braver girls. They tasted like fermented mango. One girl took a video of the whole thing. I want that video. Some other things happened too--we went to McDonald's and saw some British "chavs" harass some scantily dressed party girls.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

MUTO!!

A commenter below (which Tom is he?) posts a link to possibly the coolest viral animation video I have ever seen. Watch this immediately.


MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.


*******************
Nine year old girl's twin found inside her stomach.

les at night

Last night at around 2 a.m. I'd been up for 24 hours and still couldn't sleep. I decided to get on the train and go uptown to eat. My mood had been weird all evening. I got a new computer and when I opened the box and saw that it was similar in its technical specifications to my old computer, I felt a wave of hatred toward it that took a little while to overcome. Ned was sitting in my living room and finally I asked him what he thought of the computer, and he said, "It looks awesome," which was exactly the right answer and calmed me down enough that I was able to think clearly and be productive.

So by 2 a.m. I had written a bunch, both on Strangelets and the other project, and had watched part of an episode of Lost online and read some American Psycho, so I put on my massive sheepskin jacket and went out into the weirdly chilly night. As soon as I walked into the deserted 4/5 subway station, the train arrived. Amazing. Then the 6 was waiting for me at the transfer station. I went to San Loco tacos, which is open 24 hours. Astor Place and the streets around there were mostly deserted and I thought, Why am I not being killed? How is it possible I can walk around the streets of the Lower East Side at 2:30 a.m. and not feel any sense of danger?

At San Loco, there was a strange social scene going on. The cashier was this blond young guy, who had sort of all the features of being handsome without actually being handsome and was being very friendly. One of the customers was a tall, genuinely very handsome blond guy. Seated at the counter was an angry Rastafarian guy who kept yelling at everyone ("Yo I was here, okay man?? Not you! Me! I'm next!"). Blond Customer kept going up and talking to Blond Cashier amid interruptions from Rastafarian, and I overheard Cashier say, "Yeah, I was in this one band, and then I was in this boy band, not a big one, but you probably heard of us if you know about boy bands... so yeah, I just started here." Then this attractive woman came in and ordered and went to read the bulletin board while she waited for her order, and Blond Customer walked over and stood next to her very awkwardly for a moment, and she grinned, staring straight and not looking at him, and finally when he didn't say anything, she got her food and left.

A really good song was playing in San Loco, I'm not sure what it was, but they always have a good radio station on there and I enjoy my tacos more because of it. I almost always go there alone. Some girl named Ellen took me there for the first time last fall and every time since I've gone by myself, except maybe once. The only other place that almost always plays good music while you eat is Momofuku. (And they have a giant picture of The Band on the wall, so there's that.)

When I went back to Astor Place to catch the train, it came instantly. I was really happy by this point. I don't know why, I just felt pretty great. The music, the tacos, the instant trains, the night, the empty streets. A lot of endorphins came out of nowhere. Then I slept a little and this morning I was tired.

Tonight is Mike Edison's book party for I Have Fun Everywhere I Go. Mike used to edit High Times and Screw. I have done a couple readings with him. It will, as the title suggests, be fun.

Had lunch today with Richard Grayson, whose fatalism is contagious. Always a pleasure. But why is the weather so sick?

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

As a follow up to my rat video from below, look at this video. Warning: made me shudder violently.

insomnia

Sleep problems really do something trippy to your head. I feel like I'm on some mild dissociative trip--DXM, ketamine, something. I woke up at 2 AM yesterday morning and I've been up ever since; it feels like there's a membrane of jellyfish meat between me and the world.

I did get a lot of writing done--I wrote several thousand words of Strangelets yesterday morning before I went to work. It remains unclear to me whether this book can ever be published or even submitted for publication.

Also I am working on another project that takes probably 15-20 hours a week and while it is far from guaranteed that anything will ever come of it, I feel very excited about it.

Valzhyna Mort's new book is reviewed briefly in this week's New Yorker--wow.

I saw Iron Man and Redbelt: both good. At Iron Man I saw the trailer for The Dark Knight. Looks mildly fun. At Redbelt, I saw the trailer for Baghead... it just looked dull until the final few seconds of the trailer, which elicited a roar of milk-up-the-nose-style laughter from the audience (and me). I'm not sure it looks as unintentionally hilarious when seen on a computer screen, but check it out. I will probably go see this.

Time to attempt sleep again.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

from last night

i shot this in the fulton street station.



higher quality vimeo version here.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Bat for Lashes... an excellent music video:

Monday, May 05, 2008

Strangelets moment

A moment from Strangelets. This is from a "comedy of manners" section, not a "terrorist rampage" section. The protagonist, Brian, is desperate to win back his ex-girlfriend but generally perplexed by human interaction, especially with women.



harring, george, badalamenti: a moment

"How do you respond to those who suspect a financial motivation?

It’s true that my wheelchair requires some costly modifications to fit into the trunk of a Maserati coupe."


...The New York Times interviews Dmitri Nabokov.

Thursday, May 01, 2008

storysouth

Shelly Rich pointed out to me that I have two stories in the storySouth "Notable short stories of 2007" list... I hadn't seen that. There are a lot of stories. Are the "notable stories" nominees for an award? I hope I win it. My porn story is the only story from Nerve. My other story on the list is:

“Mammals” by Nick Antosca
http://www.identitytheory.com/fiction/antosca_mammals.php