I am writing in order to express my dismay at the contents of one of your Exiled from Main Street pieces. I quote: “But I was tanked now and thus, suddenly, focused. Who cares if you can’t stand up when your back is against a wall? That’s why, after driving home (italics mine), I popped open a beer and quickly wrote this...”
As a coordinating member of Mothers Against Drunk Driving, I feel it is my duty to inform you that such a statement and its attendant action is, at base, morally reprehensible and insensitive to victims of this violent crime. I wonder if you are aware that there will be an estimated 16,000 deaths in the U.S. alone by year’s end caused by drunk drivers. If so, how can you justify wearing your irresponsibility on your sleeve and in an—ostensibly anyway—humorous piece?
I, for one, find a shortage of humor in any glorification of an act I know from personal experience shatters families and destroys people’s dreams. Impaired driving is unacceptable and criminal, not some thing in which one should take pride. Please consider that in this case shame may be more appropriate." --Janet B., Richmond, VA
I am sorry, primarily for the fact that you do not find me funny. No one—except for my publisher maybe—knows better that I can ill-afford to alienate any member of my audience...
In 2054 a massive tsunami devastates Manhattan. The island’s
bridges and tunnels are destroyed. Two years of riots follow.
Outlaw barge cities form in the waters around Manhattan, traffickingbody
modifications and open source drugs. In 2065 the construction
of a 20-meter-high barrier encircling what is left of Manhattan
is completed and
martial law is declared....
May 2009: Guest Editor Mick Parsons
Excerpt from Editorial: Reverb "The etymology of the word donut seems an unlikely metaphorical tool with which to examine art, but with such widely accepted terms as “the art of medicine” broad, quizzical associations with art seem relatively common. When one considers the word “donut,” it is amazing how plainly descriptive the word was in its origin, and how bastardized it has become. Much is the same with the term “art” as it is used contemporarily—a one-time simple term explained what its creators described, and then future societies with a decided lack of neologists applied the word to almost anything, thereby creating the current nimiety in application and flaccidity of meaning that we see today. The cause of this change seems to be a conspicuous application of the idiocy theory, which states that if people don't know what a word means they either replace it with a word they know, even if it makes no sense, or misuse the word in a way that they thinks makes sense. Then, like a group of lemmings, we all follow along, trying not to appear ignorant or ill-informed..."
the “Bloom Baby” was born sometime back in
the last part of the 19th century on the side of some
baking product or something. The missus had one of those
calendars that had reproductions of weird Victorian graphics
and things; advertising, greeting cards, toys etc. And
once I saw these things, of course, I wanted to incorporate
that weirdness into my work because they just embodied
so much of the stuff I love - anyway I referred to some
of them in “A Magic Day Coloring Book” including
the Blooom Baby. Since that time he’s popped up
many, many times: on paper, canvas, wood, cardboard,
I think even an ice sculpture, I can’t remember.
That’s him in “Games For May”, “Mantra”,
in blackface for “Blackberries” and a couple
others. He’s currently out of the country and isn’t
returning my phone calls." .Open.