I didn’t think I could like him less as a writer, but he certainly helped me out with that.
It’s Thanksgiving Day 2018. Since I have the time today, I thought I’d take a moment to talk just the littlest bit about The Process […]
Sometimes all of this – i.e., The Process – is just nuts. It can make you nuts. It can drive others nuts. There’s no real way to justify it, and no compelling argument for vilifying it.
If there is no knot in a person’s brain made up of guilt and pain caused by slights and regret and rejection and failures of kindness and humiliation and bad behavior toward other people, then what purpose could their creating art possibly serve?
I literally wrote this entire blog post just so I could insert “flipped the script” into it somewhere.
Suffice to say, the Burroughs family of St. Louis had a lot of money. It was this money that afforded William Seward Burroughs II a spot at Harvard, from which he graduated in 1936, as well as the freedom to pursue writing and shooting up heroin and sex-seeking holidays in Tangier. This money, with what he made as reporter, also financed a fateful stint in Mexico City.
It’s a long story that doesn’t bear repeating here on my blog, but I dug out an old, OOOLLLLD piece of writing last week because […]
Add to all that the fact that I just sent a message on FB to a friend of mine which said: “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel like I’m inside a goddamn wiffle ball filled with jingle bells half the time.”
I realized almost 24 hours after I posted to my blog last night that I called my imaginary TV show the wrong thing. I’m sorry.
Picture it: West Virginia. In your memory it is always bleak, always winter. Picture a town 15 miles from the nearest interstate exit, a town […]