Two posts in a day. Unbelievable.
I just wanted to put up the final copy of the letter I sent to Vonnegut's publisher. Feel free to pretend to be Dan Simon and post a comment accepting my request.
53 Woodland Ave.
Dayton, OH 45409
January 18, 2006
Dan Simon
Publisher
Seven Stories Press
140 Watts Street
New York, NY 10013
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned,
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee.
- William Shakespeare, Hamlet Act I, Scene 4.
Dear Mr. Simon:
The University of Dayton will offer the mini-course "Themes in the Novels of Kurt Vonnegut" next fall. Students will read three to five of Mr. Vonnegut's novels and discuss the common themes, character motivations, and meanings.
I, an undergraduate English major, will teach the course. I chose to teach this course to complete an undergraduate thesis, and it is a great joy to spread the word of my favorite author.
I have all of the research I could find on Mr. Vonnegut's work--Jerome Klinkowitz's books; Donald E. Morse's The Novels of Kurt Vonnegut; Stanley Schatt's Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.; and others. I have read his novels, and have chosen several--Cat's Cradle, Mother Night, Slaughterhouse-Five and Bluebeard, most likely--to discuss in the class.
That isn't enough for me. I feel I could learn more about Mr. Vonnegut's novels, themes, and philosophy if I spoke with him in person. For this reason, I am writing to request a personal interview with Mr. Vonnegut at his convenience between March 10 and March 19 or during the summer of 2006 (after May 8).
If Mr. Vonnegut agrees, the John W. Berry, Sr. Scholars Program would fund my trip to New York. I would appreciate any time Mr. Vonnegut could afford to discuss his works and his ideas.
As a member of the American youth, Mr. Vonnegut's traditional audience, I believe it is very important to spread Mr. Vonnegut's messages to another generation. I think an interview with Mr. Vonnegut would provide great help in this endeavor.
Thank you,
Steve Weishampel
Now how could you say no to that?
Okay, I can think of some ways. I guess we'll find out which one Dan Simon prefers in a few days.
Maybe next post I'll explain why King Kong is racist. Until then, don't go see it.
Love,
Steve
Sunday, January 22, 2006
As it turns out, playing guitar is the only requirement for a stranger to get directions to our house. It's that easy.
Oh, man.
So Tony and Beard wanted to buy microphones for their computers. For World of Warcraft. Plus they were going to the grocery store. So I went along because I needed groceries.
We were headed to the Best Buy near the Dayton Mall, and we decided to find somewhere to eat dinner. I voted for a tiny Mexican place called "La Pinata." No, I'm not missing the ~ (tilde), the sign didn't have one.
But while we were driving through the parking lot, Beard and Tony voted for "Taste of the Mediterranean," a Lebanese restaurant. So we went in.
We were the only patrons at the time except for three little girls who, as it turned out, were a daughter of one of the chefs and her friends.
For some reason Tony recommended we get a meal for four, even though there were three of us. This resulted in about 10,000,000 pounds of meat being slapped on our table. It was pretty disgusting.
While we were eating we met Akram.
He was one of the chefs, and he encouraged us several times to finish all the food. We couldn't quite do it, but he was getting all excited about it.
As we were trying, he was sitting across the room eating something. Mouth very full, he said, "Hey, do you guys play music, man?"
Please keep in mind this guy is 35 at least, graying, a little leering, and a stranger.
But we said yes. Tony plays guitar, I play drums. In our garage? No, in our basement. Really? Yes, really. What are we into? Well, rock, indie, I guess. One of his favorite bands is Radiohead. He also really likes Led Zeppelin (I'm wearing a Zeppelin sweatshirt). Yeah, see, he plays guitar. He plays Led Zeppelin "Middle-eastern style, man." How often do we play? Umm, like once a month, I guess. He's been playing for three years, and he really wants someone to play with. Oh. We see. Well...here Tony and I are glancing at each other...we really aren't busy tonight. What? Are we serious? Sure, we're serious. He gets off at 9:30 or 10:00. Can we give him directions to our house? Yes, we can. Should he bring an amp? No, we have one. Okay, so he'll just bring his guitar and "the goodies." Uhh, right. Your guitar.
He commands our server to give us 10% off and we depart, him grinning excitedly.
Best Buy and Kroger were pretty uneventful compared to that. We are alternately laughing about this and debating what "goodies" might mean.
An hour before he comes, Tony considers calling it off. We could look up Taste of the Mediterranean in the phone book, call, let Akram (American name Adam, he told us at the restaurant) know something came up. But we don't. And he calls at 9:30 and says he'll be here soon.
So he gets here, and he's got a fairly new off-brand Stratocaster, and we head to the basement.
He is not bad. He can play some crazy Middle-eastern-sounding lead stuff--no bends, not exactly shredding, but pretty cool. He sits in a chair rather than use the guitar strap we offer him. Every ten minutes or so, he lifts his head up and lets loose a loud, sustained "WHOOOOOO!!!!" I imagine he learned that in the "jazz fusion" he praises so much.
Midway through, we take a break and he smokes a cigarette in our basement. This allows him time for a ten-minute rant that alternates between slightly disparaging America and unreservedly praising Arab culture. Man, that's cool. I wouldn't know, so I'll believe him, sure. Go Middle East.
Then we get back to the rocking. He plays two Zeppelin songs--"Achilles' Last Stand," which I feel really bad for not knowing, and the painful "Since I've Been Loving You," which I play along with out of politeness. Jason and Beard are in attendance part of the time. Then, bam, it's midnight, and we send him off. He says "Next week?" and Tony and I put that to rest quickly. We get his number. We're pretty busy, bud. We'll call you, Akram.
Sadly, Teresa could not attend. She was watching Brokeback Mountain with Anne and, I imagine, pretending at least slightly to be a lesbian. Without having seen Brokeback Mountain, I am sure she spent her time better than listening to us. Alyssa, Ken, Valerie and Johnny also arrived after Akram left. They got to hear Ken, Tony and I rock, although Tony and I were tired at that point.
So:
Akram (guitar):
Advantages: He is a stranger, if that's an advantage; extremely excited; his "WOOOOO"s were occasionally hilarious; he offered us free meals once a month if we rock afterwards; he could play pretty competently.
Disadvantages: 40+, as it turns out; he is a stranger; anti-American rants could potentially get old (if he ever comes back); didn't come through with "the goodies" (I am joking, that's an advantage); probably way too excited about playing with us.
Grade: C.
Summary: Akram is probably best summarized by Walt Kolis, who didn't hear Akram play and didn't meet him. But, according to Jason, Walt said something like this when discussing whether Akram would come back:
"Doesn't this guy realize that Tony and Steve only had him over so that later they could say he came over?"
Exactly, Walt. The value of saying it happened is probably way greater than the experience itself.
That's all, friends. Next time: Who knows!
Love,
Steve
So Tony and Beard wanted to buy microphones for their computers. For World of Warcraft. Plus they were going to the grocery store. So I went along because I needed groceries.
We were headed to the Best Buy near the Dayton Mall, and we decided to find somewhere to eat dinner. I voted for a tiny Mexican place called "La Pinata." No, I'm not missing the ~ (tilde), the sign didn't have one.
But while we were driving through the parking lot, Beard and Tony voted for "Taste of the Mediterranean," a Lebanese restaurant. So we went in.
We were the only patrons at the time except for three little girls who, as it turned out, were a daughter of one of the chefs and her friends.
For some reason Tony recommended we get a meal for four, even though there were three of us. This resulted in about 10,000,000 pounds of meat being slapped on our table. It was pretty disgusting.
While we were eating we met Akram.
He was one of the chefs, and he encouraged us several times to finish all the food. We couldn't quite do it, but he was getting all excited about it.
As we were trying, he was sitting across the room eating something. Mouth very full, he said, "Hey, do you guys play music, man?"
Please keep in mind this guy is 35 at least, graying, a little leering, and a stranger.
But we said yes. Tony plays guitar, I play drums. In our garage? No, in our basement. Really? Yes, really. What are we into? Well, rock, indie, I guess. One of his favorite bands is Radiohead. He also really likes Led Zeppelin (I'm wearing a Zeppelin sweatshirt). Yeah, see, he plays guitar. He plays Led Zeppelin "Middle-eastern style, man." How often do we play? Umm, like once a month, I guess. He's been playing for three years, and he really wants someone to play with. Oh. We see. Well...here Tony and I are glancing at each other...we really aren't busy tonight. What? Are we serious? Sure, we're serious. He gets off at 9:30 or 10:00. Can we give him directions to our house? Yes, we can. Should he bring an amp? No, we have one. Okay, so he'll just bring his guitar and "the goodies." Uhh, right. Your guitar.
He commands our server to give us 10% off and we depart, him grinning excitedly.
Best Buy and Kroger were pretty uneventful compared to that. We are alternately laughing about this and debating what "goodies" might mean.
An hour before he comes, Tony considers calling it off. We could look up Taste of the Mediterranean in the phone book, call, let Akram (American name Adam, he told us at the restaurant) know something came up. But we don't. And he calls at 9:30 and says he'll be here soon.
So he gets here, and he's got a fairly new off-brand Stratocaster, and we head to the basement.
He is not bad. He can play some crazy Middle-eastern-sounding lead stuff--no bends, not exactly shredding, but pretty cool. He sits in a chair rather than use the guitar strap we offer him. Every ten minutes or so, he lifts his head up and lets loose a loud, sustained "WHOOOOOO!!!!" I imagine he learned that in the "jazz fusion" he praises so much.
Midway through, we take a break and he smokes a cigarette in our basement. This allows him time for a ten-minute rant that alternates between slightly disparaging America and unreservedly praising Arab culture. Man, that's cool. I wouldn't know, so I'll believe him, sure. Go Middle East.
Then we get back to the rocking. He plays two Zeppelin songs--"Achilles' Last Stand," which I feel really bad for not knowing, and the painful "Since I've Been Loving You," which I play along with out of politeness. Jason and Beard are in attendance part of the time. Then, bam, it's midnight, and we send him off. He says "Next week?" and Tony and I put that to rest quickly. We get his number. We're pretty busy, bud. We'll call you, Akram.
Sadly, Teresa could not attend. She was watching Brokeback Mountain with Anne and, I imagine, pretending at least slightly to be a lesbian. Without having seen Brokeback Mountain, I am sure she spent her time better than listening to us. Alyssa, Ken, Valerie and Johnny also arrived after Akram left. They got to hear Ken, Tony and I rock, although Tony and I were tired at that point.
So:
Akram (guitar):
Advantages: He is a stranger, if that's an advantage; extremely excited; his "WOOOOO"s were occasionally hilarious; he offered us free meals once a month if we rock afterwards; he could play pretty competently.
Disadvantages: 40+, as it turns out; he is a stranger; anti-American rants could potentially get old (if he ever comes back); didn't come through with "the goodies" (I am joking, that's an advantage); probably way too excited about playing with us.
Grade: C.
Summary: Akram is probably best summarized by Walt Kolis, who didn't hear Akram play and didn't meet him. But, according to Jason, Walt said something like this when discussing whether Akram would come back:
"Doesn't this guy realize that Tony and Steve only had him over so that later they could say he came over?"
Exactly, Walt. The value of saying it happened is probably way greater than the experience itself.
That's all, friends. Next time: Who knows!
Love,
Steve
Thursday, January 19, 2006
The news and a review. I'm like a one-man newspaper that doesn't get paid.
Okay, I finally did it.
I went to UDP&D and got the letters (5) and envelopes (3) printed.
I went to the post office, bought a stamp, and sent Dan Simon of Seven Stories Press a request to interview Kurt Vonnegut.
I walked halfway home, and realized I didn't sign that letter.
I went back to the post office, asked for the letter back, signed a different letter, sealed and stamped a new envelope, and actually sent Dan Simon of Seven Stories Press a request to interview Kurt Vonnegut.
Then I walked all the way home.
I also turned in my request form to teach a mini-course this year.
The interview I can live without. If that request gets shot down for some reason--like, for example, my utter lack of teaching credentials or experience--I'm boned.
I also got a sport coat in the mail today from my mommy. It's a little big in the shoulders, unbelievably, and it's kind of a purply color. It's nice, though. I'm wearing it right now.
AS IF THE VONNEGUT LETTER WAS NOT NEWS ENOUGH, I am also going to review Dave Eggers' book How We Are Hungry. Brace yourself as my two favorite authors--maybe two favorite living authors--combine to form some kind of meta-post.
Title: How We Are Hungry
Author: Dave Eggers
Publisher: Vintage Books, first printed and copyrighted by McSweeney's Publishing, 2004.
Story list:
1. Another
2. What It Means When a Crowd in a Faraway Nation Takes a Soldier Representing Your Own Nation, Shoots Him, Drags Him from His Vehicle and Then Mutilates Him in the Dust
3. The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water
4. On Wanting to Have Three Walls Up Before She Gets Home
5. Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance
6. She Waits, Seething, Blooming
7. Quiet
8. Your Mother and I
9. Naveed
10. Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone
11. About the Man Who Began Flying After Meeting Her
12. Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly
13. When They Learned to Yelp
14. After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned
Maybe I should explain the format first. I think that will help.
Looking at the book as a whole, Eggers alternates between longer short stories--“Another,” “The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water,” “Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance,” etc.--and very short ones, usually only two pages. In my opinion, they are equally powerful, and I would say the characters can be just as well-developed in the short stories as in the longer ones.
I think some, short and long alike, are amazing. Absolutely beautiful.
Eggers’ style is unique and enthralling. His words come out in violent bursts, and reading is a jolting, breathtaking, physical experience. In “Quiet,” the moon says something--yes, the moon says something--to a character named Tom that pretty well summarizes Eggers’ writing: “It always looks so messy, and I think I might like that.” “It is messy, I guess.” “It looks awfully messy. It looks almost impossible to survive, to tell you the truth. The pain of it all.”
Maybe this passage from “When They Learned to Yelp” will do it more justice:
The words, questions and statements which are encompassed in one quick yelp: Fuck! Shit! Piss! How could you? How could you? How do your hands do such things? I won’t believe it. Stop it now. Please stop it now. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Motherfuckers! Animals! That poor man. Those poor women. Look at her arms. Look at his face. I cannot believe it. I will not believe it. Those bastards. Those motherfucking bastards. This is not how it should be. Nothing should ever be like this. Goddamn all this. I give up. No, I will fight. No, I will give up. No, I will fight.
He can handle twists and surprises brilliantly, and even a soft, relaxed, calm story like “Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone” is flooded with exciting, fascinating language. Everyone should write like Dave Eggers.
Eggers excels at seizing upon one or two details (“At Gizeh I walked with the horse man—he had no smell…” in “Another,” for example) that paint a sloppy, realistic picture of life in his stories. He loves to play games with names. Hand, the Irish woman Pilar, Fish, Catanese, Erin Mahatma Fullerton, Naveed, Basil, Godwill, Kassim, and all of the dogs in “After I Was Thrown....” It’s a hilarious little side note to his stories, to discover what name he will use--or what will become a name--next.
Now we should establish some theme common to the stories. I can think of a few--love, physical attraction, overcoming challenges--and the stories to go with them. But while the stories all work together, and they don’t exactly clash, they’re very separate, I think. They hardly touch.
But their messages are great. The content of these stories--each one in some way triumphant and uplifting--may overshadow the great style.
Let me give you a one-sentence summary of each. This is both to make you interested and to challenge me to summarize some of these stories in one sentence.
“Another”: An American in Egypt challenges himself and his nation’s image.
“What It Means…”: If I could improve on the story’s title, I would.
“The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water”: Pilar and Hand expand or end their friendship in Costa Rica.
“On Wanting to Have Three Walls…”: Eggers (maybe sarcastically) celebrates the suburbs.
“Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance”: Fish and his cousin Adam attempt to avoid suicide.
“She Waits, Seething, Blooming”: A single mother plots her revenge on a disobedient son.
“Quiet”: Tom and Erin expand or end their friendship in Scotland. If I can use two sentences, I should say this story is beautiful and definitely different from “The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water,” despite the…umm…similar descriptions.
“Your Mother and I”: A couple changes the world forever in thousands of ways.
“Naveed”: A woman plots her next sexual conquest…and her next.
“Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone”: Basil accepts his death, and decides to share it.
“About the Man Who Began Flying After Meeting Her”: A man constructs a new personality for a new attraction.
“Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly”: Rita and other climbers tackle Kilimanjaro for reasons that aren’t really clear to her.
“When They Learned to Yelp”: A nation reacts in pain.
“After I Was Thrown…”: A dog named Steven is intoxicated with the beauty of life.
I can’t recommend this book enough. I really believe Eggers can grasp attention and convey a feeling and a message stronger than just about anybody.
I think easily the most beautiful story is “After I Was Thrown….” It manages to communicate absolute joy and complete sadness at once. It is heartbreaking. It’s in my top three short stories of all time, with Of Mice and Men and maybe “Harrison Bergeron,” maybe “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas.” I adore it.
On the other hand, some of the shorter stories are less impressive. I mean, I like them and everything, but they just aren’t developed enough to be great. I have “She Waits, Seething, Blooming” and “Naveed” in mind here, as well as “On Wanting to Have Three Walls….” I like them, but they aren’t of the caliber of “Notes for a Story…” or “Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly.”
Summary: Eggers is a master. He can twist the English language to do incredible things, and his messages are complicated and brilliant. If only, if only, some of the stories were longer, or there were just more stories here. I wanted badly to keep reading after “After I Was Thrown…,” but all I could do was flip back to the beginning. Which I admit I did. Please, read How We Are Hungry if you care about being a human.
Grade: A.
I went to UDP&D and got the letters (5) and envelopes (3) printed.
I went to the post office, bought a stamp, and sent Dan Simon of Seven Stories Press a request to interview Kurt Vonnegut.
I walked halfway home, and realized I didn't sign that letter.
I went back to the post office, asked for the letter back, signed a different letter, sealed and stamped a new envelope, and actually sent Dan Simon of Seven Stories Press a request to interview Kurt Vonnegut.
Then I walked all the way home.
I also turned in my request form to teach a mini-course this year.
The interview I can live without. If that request gets shot down for some reason--like, for example, my utter lack of teaching credentials or experience--I'm boned.
I also got a sport coat in the mail today from my mommy. It's a little big in the shoulders, unbelievably, and it's kind of a purply color. It's nice, though. I'm wearing it right now.
AS IF THE VONNEGUT LETTER WAS NOT NEWS ENOUGH, I am also going to review Dave Eggers' book How We Are Hungry. Brace yourself as my two favorite authors--maybe two favorite living authors--combine to form some kind of meta-post.
Title: How We Are Hungry
Author: Dave Eggers
Publisher: Vintage Books, first printed and copyrighted by McSweeney's Publishing, 2004.
Story list:
1. Another
2. What It Means When a Crowd in a Faraway Nation Takes a Soldier Representing Your Own Nation, Shoots Him, Drags Him from His Vehicle and Then Mutilates Him in the Dust
3. The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water
4. On Wanting to Have Three Walls Up Before She Gets Home
5. Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance
6. She Waits, Seething, Blooming
7. Quiet
8. Your Mother and I
9. Naveed
10. Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone
11. About the Man Who Began Flying After Meeting Her
12. Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly
13. When They Learned to Yelp
14. After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned
Maybe I should explain the format first. I think that will help.
Looking at the book as a whole, Eggers alternates between longer short stories--“Another,” “The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water,” “Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance,” etc.--and very short ones, usually only two pages. In my opinion, they are equally powerful, and I would say the characters can be just as well-developed in the short stories as in the longer ones.
I think some, short and long alike, are amazing. Absolutely beautiful.
Eggers’ style is unique and enthralling. His words come out in violent bursts, and reading is a jolting, breathtaking, physical experience. In “Quiet,” the moon says something--yes, the moon says something--to a character named Tom that pretty well summarizes Eggers’ writing: “It always looks so messy, and I think I might like that.” “It is messy, I guess.” “It looks awfully messy. It looks almost impossible to survive, to tell you the truth. The pain of it all.”
Maybe this passage from “When They Learned to Yelp” will do it more justice:
The words, questions and statements which are encompassed in one quick yelp: Fuck! Shit! Piss! How could you? How could you? How do your hands do such things? I won’t believe it. Stop it now. Please stop it now. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Motherfuckers! Animals! That poor man. Those poor women. Look at her arms. Look at his face. I cannot believe it. I will not believe it. Those bastards. Those motherfucking bastards. This is not how it should be. Nothing should ever be like this. Goddamn all this. I give up. No, I will fight. No, I will give up. No, I will fight.
He can handle twists and surprises brilliantly, and even a soft, relaxed, calm story like “Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone” is flooded with exciting, fascinating language. Everyone should write like Dave Eggers.
Eggers excels at seizing upon one or two details (“At Gizeh I walked with the horse man—he had no smell…” in “Another,” for example) that paint a sloppy, realistic picture of life in his stories. He loves to play games with names. Hand, the Irish woman Pilar, Fish, Catanese, Erin Mahatma Fullerton, Naveed, Basil, Godwill, Kassim, and all of the dogs in “After I Was Thrown....” It’s a hilarious little side note to his stories, to discover what name he will use--or what will become a name--next.
Now we should establish some theme common to the stories. I can think of a few--love, physical attraction, overcoming challenges--and the stories to go with them. But while the stories all work together, and they don’t exactly clash, they’re very separate, I think. They hardly touch.
But their messages are great. The content of these stories--each one in some way triumphant and uplifting--may overshadow the great style.
Let me give you a one-sentence summary of each. This is both to make you interested and to challenge me to summarize some of these stories in one sentence.
“Another”: An American in Egypt challenges himself and his nation’s image.
“What It Means…”: If I could improve on the story’s title, I would.
“The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water”: Pilar and Hand expand or end their friendship in Costa Rica.
“On Wanting to Have Three Walls…”: Eggers (maybe sarcastically) celebrates the suburbs.
“Climbing to the Window, Pretending to Dance”: Fish and his cousin Adam attempt to avoid suicide.
“She Waits, Seething, Blooming”: A single mother plots her revenge on a disobedient son.
“Quiet”: Tom and Erin expand or end their friendship in Scotland. If I can use two sentences, I should say this story is beautiful and definitely different from “The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water,” despite the…umm…similar descriptions.
“Your Mother and I”: A couple changes the world forever in thousands of ways.
“Naveed”: A woman plots her next sexual conquest…and her next.
“Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone”: Basil accepts his death, and decides to share it.
“About the Man Who Began Flying After Meeting Her”: A man constructs a new personality for a new attraction.
“Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly”: Rita and other climbers tackle Kilimanjaro for reasons that aren’t really clear to her.
“When They Learned to Yelp”: A nation reacts in pain.
“After I Was Thrown…”: A dog named Steven is intoxicated with the beauty of life.
I can’t recommend this book enough. I really believe Eggers can grasp attention and convey a feeling and a message stronger than just about anybody.
I think easily the most beautiful story is “After I Was Thrown….” It manages to communicate absolute joy and complete sadness at once. It is heartbreaking. It’s in my top three short stories of all time, with Of Mice and Men and maybe “Harrison Bergeron,” maybe “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas.” I adore it.
On the other hand, some of the shorter stories are less impressive. I mean, I like them and everything, but they just aren’t developed enough to be great. I have “She Waits, Seething, Blooming” and “Naveed” in mind here, as well as “On Wanting to Have Three Walls….” I like them, but they aren’t of the caliber of “Notes for a Story…” or “Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly.”
Summary: Eggers is a master. He can twist the English language to do incredible things, and his messages are complicated and brilliant. If only, if only, some of the stories were longer, or there were just more stories here. I wanted badly to keep reading after “After I Was Thrown…,” but all I could do was flip back to the beginning. Which I admit I did. Please, read How We Are Hungry if you care about being a human.
Grade: A.
Monday, January 16, 2006
I almost wish Teresa was a member of a minority, so we could possibly participate in "race-mixing" by marriage.
Today is the birthday of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
I wish I knew more about King. Everything I know can probably be summarized in a few sentences. I won't look any of this stuff up because I'm really lazy.
King led SCLC, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, from the mid-5os onward. He led the Montgomery bus boycott inspired by Rosa Parks, successfully desegregating public transportation in Montgomery.
He was imprisoned in Birmingham after a protest, and responded to a letter by white ministers in Birmingham's paper criticizing his methods and aims. This famous "Letter from the Birmingham Jail" established the goals of the nonviolent resistance movement.
Under his direction, the SCLC--along with the more radical SNCC, Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee--rose to the front of the civil rights movement. King quickly became a celebrity and an icon of equality.
He was watched by the FBI as a suspected Communist, and did in fact organize meetings with various organizations to use the nonviolent method to improve economic justice. He organized a march on Washington, D.C. to draw attention to the civil rights struggle.
Then, in 1968, he was shot in a hotel in Memphis, Tennessee. James Earl Ray was found two months later and convicted of the crime, although (okay I did use Wikipedia for this) Ray recanted a confession and attempted to withdraw a guilty plea after his trial.
His lawyer recommended pleading guilty to avoid the death penalty (instead, Ray received a 99-year sentence), but Ray later fired his lawyer and tried to have the trial he passed up by pleading guilty.
He never got it, and died in prison. That's how we treat people who won't stick with their confessions, I suppose.
So why the history lesson? I think Martin Luther King is probably one of the most admirable, respectable, impressive and great human beings in history. That's why I was a little hurt when I found a flyer about him on the lawn in front of our house today.
Let me reproduce the front in its entirety:
MLK Jr.'s DREAM IS AMERICA'S NIGHTMARE!
King was a member of many communist organizations!
King was a known womanizer!
King promoted race-mixing!
Your children are made to think that King is a great hero!
ABOLISH THE COMMUNIST KING HOLIDAY!
Mystic Knights of the Ku Klux Klan
National Office
P.O. Box 0001
Dayton, OH 45434
www.mysticknights.org
Not much to add to that, really. The back is an immense essay titled "THE SHOCKING FACTS" that really didn't shock me much. King hung out with some people connected to the American Communist Party because he was interested in economic justice. Oh dear.
What makes me laugh a little now is the part toward the beginning of the back. "King is the only American born individual that has a national holiday. Not one of our founding fathers--not Washington, not Adams, not Franklin not even Thomas Jefferson who wrote the Declaration of Independence is honored with a holiday."
Forget the bad punctuation. I mean, laugh at it, then forget it.
Okay. They're suggesting King doesn't deserve a holiday in part because he was a womanizer who promoted the ever-dangerous "race-mixing." Yet they recommend these four men--racist slaveowner, racist slaveowner, racist slaveowner, racist slave-fucker--have their own holidays.
I guess in my mind, womanizing is just a little more acceptable than owning slaves. That might be why I have a problem with it.
Who knows? Maybe if Washington had his own holiday, the KKK would protest that a slaveowner had a holiday for himself. I'm sure, as fair-minded individuals, they would protest.
What bothers me the most about this flyer is the first headline. "MLK Jr.'s DREAM IS AMERICA'S NIGHTMARE!"
The "I Have a Dream" speech might be the most wonderful thing anyone said publicly in the 20th century. It's inspiring and glorious. It makes me nearly believe in God.
It's not much of a surprise that the KKK would hate it, though. It basically describes a world without people like them.
Oh, well. I have often thought I would be a big fan of "AMERICA'S NIGHTMARE," if I could just figure out what "AMERICA'S NIGHTMARE" might be. Well, I've found it, apparently, and I must say it's even better than I thought.
Anyway, I won't recommend for or against writing to the KKK or going to their website. They're beyond convincing. Of course, the "how" and "why" of them being beyond convincing is debatable, but whatever.
One more thing about the flyer: I don't know if "National Office" means the KKK's nationwide office is in Dayton. I guess it does mean that. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fucker fuck fuck.
That's how my MLK Day was. I loved the man and he would probably scream and cry if he saw how little people care about what he said and did.
I will review the Flyer News, and I will review myself, but I think I must review a book first.
It's a book of short stories by Dave Eggers. If you recognize the name, it might be because I reviewed his A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius as my first review.
This book is called How We Are Hungry and I'lll save my thoughts on it until the review. But I can't wait.
So bye now.
Love,
Steve
I wish I knew more about King. Everything I know can probably be summarized in a few sentences. I won't look any of this stuff up because I'm really lazy.
King led SCLC, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, from the mid-5os onward. He led the Montgomery bus boycott inspired by Rosa Parks, successfully desegregating public transportation in Montgomery.
He was imprisoned in Birmingham after a protest, and responded to a letter by white ministers in Birmingham's paper criticizing his methods and aims. This famous "Letter from the Birmingham Jail" established the goals of the nonviolent resistance movement.
Under his direction, the SCLC--along with the more radical SNCC, Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee--rose to the front of the civil rights movement. King quickly became a celebrity and an icon of equality.
He was watched by the FBI as a suspected Communist, and did in fact organize meetings with various organizations to use the nonviolent method to improve economic justice. He organized a march on Washington, D.C. to draw attention to the civil rights struggle.
Then, in 1968, he was shot in a hotel in Memphis, Tennessee. James Earl Ray was found two months later and convicted of the crime, although (okay I did use Wikipedia for this) Ray recanted a confession and attempted to withdraw a guilty plea after his trial.
His lawyer recommended pleading guilty to avoid the death penalty (instead, Ray received a 99-year sentence), but Ray later fired his lawyer and tried to have the trial he passed up by pleading guilty.
He never got it, and died in prison. That's how we treat people who won't stick with their confessions, I suppose.
So why the history lesson? I think Martin Luther King is probably one of the most admirable, respectable, impressive and great human beings in history. That's why I was a little hurt when I found a flyer about him on the lawn in front of our house today.
Let me reproduce the front in its entirety:
MLK Jr.'s DREAM IS AMERICA'S NIGHTMARE!
King was a member of many communist organizations!
King was a known womanizer!
King promoted race-mixing!
Your children are made to think that King is a great hero!
ABOLISH THE COMMUNIST KING HOLIDAY!
Mystic Knights of the Ku Klux Klan
National Office
P.O. Box 0001
Dayton, OH 45434
www.mysticknights.org
Not much to add to that, really. The back is an immense essay titled "THE SHOCKING FACTS" that really didn't shock me much. King hung out with some people connected to the American Communist Party because he was interested in economic justice. Oh dear.
What makes me laugh a little now is the part toward the beginning of the back. "King is the only American born individual that has a national holiday. Not one of our founding fathers--not Washington, not Adams, not Franklin not even Thomas Jefferson who wrote the Declaration of Independence is honored with a holiday."
Forget the bad punctuation. I mean, laugh at it, then forget it.
Okay. They're suggesting King doesn't deserve a holiday in part because he was a womanizer who promoted the ever-dangerous "race-mixing." Yet they recommend these four men--racist slaveowner, racist slaveowner, racist slaveowner, racist slave-fucker--have their own holidays.
I guess in my mind, womanizing is just a little more acceptable than owning slaves. That might be why I have a problem with it.
Who knows? Maybe if Washington had his own holiday, the KKK would protest that a slaveowner had a holiday for himself. I'm sure, as fair-minded individuals, they would protest.
What bothers me the most about this flyer is the first headline. "MLK Jr.'s DREAM IS AMERICA'S NIGHTMARE!"
The "I Have a Dream" speech might be the most wonderful thing anyone said publicly in the 20th century. It's inspiring and glorious. It makes me nearly believe in God.
It's not much of a surprise that the KKK would hate it, though. It basically describes a world without people like them.
Oh, well. I have often thought I would be a big fan of "AMERICA'S NIGHTMARE," if I could just figure out what "AMERICA'S NIGHTMARE" might be. Well, I've found it, apparently, and I must say it's even better than I thought.
Anyway, I won't recommend for or against writing to the KKK or going to their website. They're beyond convincing. Of course, the "how" and "why" of them being beyond convincing is debatable, but whatever.
One more thing about the flyer: I don't know if "National Office" means the KKK's nationwide office is in Dayton. I guess it does mean that. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fucker fuck fuck.
That's how my MLK Day was. I loved the man and he would probably scream and cry if he saw how little people care about what he said and did.
I will review the Flyer News, and I will review myself, but I think I must review a book first.
It's a book of short stories by Dave Eggers. If you recognize the name, it might be because I reviewed his A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius as my first review.
This book is called How We Are Hungry and I'lll save my thoughts on it until the review. But I can't wait.
So bye now.
Love,
Steve
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Please! Contact me via CELLULAR TELEPHONE!
Jason has returned.
For those who don't know, Jason Kramb met a girl in Arkansas while he was doing research over the summer. Her name is Lucija and she's from Montenegro.
So he went to see her and her family in Montenegro over Christmas break. He flew there the week after school ended, and came back a few days after school started. He has to make up everything he missed, which I guess is more than you might expect of the beginning of the semester.
We (the rest of the house) were speculating that he would come back 1. engaged or 2. an expectant daddy (or, I guess, 3. both) but he says no.
Anyway, I like Lucija. She was here briefly last semester and it was fun.
But she makes him use his cell phone. And this is unforgivable.
See, when we started living together sophomore year, exactly one of us had a cell phone.
Tony: no
Sam: no
Steve: no
Jason: no
Mikey: no
Beard: yes.
Then during the summer between sophomore year and this year, our cell phone ownership went up (and, I suspect, our IQs plummeted).
Tony: no
Sam: no
Steve: no
Jason: yes
Mikey: yes
Beard: yes.
And after this Christmas, when I got one?
Tony: no
Sam: no
Steve: yes
Jason: you
Mikey: get
Beard: it.
What I'm trying to say is, last summer saw a bit of a change for J. M. Kramb. Lucija and cell phone are all it takes, I guess.
He's on it a lot. I mean a lot. Text messaging, calling, getting calls, gazing at it, whatever.
I understand the need to communicate. It doesn't even bother me that it's always the same person (and she isn't from America). That's fine.
The problem is that you really can't have something to say to the same person for three or four hours in a day. Christ, I can't entertain myself three to four hours a day. I don't know how they manage it.
Sometimes it got pretty bad. I mean, this might sound like pathetic whining, but the boy is just not the same. I can't enjoy shitty anime or Fox News with him while he's on the phone. It's like we've lost a family member. To cell phone.
Now he and I are in separate rooms, so I don't know how much he'll be using it. But I'm going to guess "too much."
"Fine," you say. "If you're a brilliant genius, how should people use cell phones?"
Well, they should almost never use them. Let me ask you: what would Jason and Lucija have done 30 years ago? Or 100 years ago?
They would've gone without talking to each other for a few minutes. They would have managed. So would you, girl who calls her friend across campus. So would you, guy who has the "I'm coming home now, I'll see you in a minute" conversations after every class.
Cell phones are nice for emergencies. They're nice--in moderation--for a case like Jason's, because it would be difficult to talk to Lucija in Arkansas or Montenegro any other way. They should not be used in place of just a little patience and some face-to-face conversation. They should not be permanent fixtures on the side of your head, like some technological cancer.
Cell phones are not making life easier. They're condemning you to meaningless, useless chatter in place of actual thought.
On the other hand, look where "actual thought" leads someone like me.
And as a final note, I'm not one of those people who thinks cell phones cause the death of society. First, I never thought society was exactly alive and well. Second, I don't confuse "cell phones" and "capitalism."
Okay, I'm done with that shit.
In other news, I watched about half of the fantastic film You Got Served with Beard, Jason and Tony the other day. We almost changed our idea from rap battles in our basement to dance battles on Woodland Avenue with cardboard on the streets. But we thought it was unlikely we could get Steve Harvey here.
He said "It's on!" during the movie. It was great.
And I guess that's about all. Please post a comment and let me know what I should review next. I'm leaning toward maybe a review of an issue of Flyer News. That would be funny to the 20 of us that read Flyer News.
Love,
Steve
For those who don't know, Jason Kramb met a girl in Arkansas while he was doing research over the summer. Her name is Lucija and she's from Montenegro.
So he went to see her and her family in Montenegro over Christmas break. He flew there the week after school ended, and came back a few days after school started. He has to make up everything he missed, which I guess is more than you might expect of the beginning of the semester.
We (the rest of the house) were speculating that he would come back 1. engaged or 2. an expectant daddy (or, I guess, 3. both) but he says no.
Anyway, I like Lucija. She was here briefly last semester and it was fun.
But she makes him use his cell phone. And this is unforgivable.
See, when we started living together sophomore year, exactly one of us had a cell phone.
Tony: no
Sam: no
Steve: no
Jason: no
Mikey: no
Beard: yes.
Then during the summer between sophomore year and this year, our cell phone ownership went up (and, I suspect, our IQs plummeted).
Tony: no
Sam: no
Steve: no
Jason: yes
Mikey: yes
Beard: yes.
And after this Christmas, when I got one?
Tony: no
Sam: no
Steve: yes
Jason: you
Mikey: get
Beard: it.
What I'm trying to say is, last summer saw a bit of a change for J. M. Kramb. Lucija and cell phone are all it takes, I guess.
He's on it a lot. I mean a lot. Text messaging, calling, getting calls, gazing at it, whatever.
I understand the need to communicate. It doesn't even bother me that it's always the same person (and she isn't from America). That's fine.
The problem is that you really can't have something to say to the same person for three or four hours in a day. Christ, I can't entertain myself three to four hours a day. I don't know how they manage it.
Sometimes it got pretty bad. I mean, this might sound like pathetic whining, but the boy is just not the same. I can't enjoy shitty anime or Fox News with him while he's on the phone. It's like we've lost a family member. To cell phone.
Now he and I are in separate rooms, so I don't know how much he'll be using it. But I'm going to guess "too much."
"Fine," you say. "If you're a brilliant genius, how should people use cell phones?"
Well, they should almost never use them. Let me ask you: what would Jason and Lucija have done 30 years ago? Or 100 years ago?
They would've gone without talking to each other for a few minutes. They would have managed. So would you, girl who calls her friend across campus. So would you, guy who has the "I'm coming home now, I'll see you in a minute" conversations after every class.
Cell phones are nice for emergencies. They're nice--in moderation--for a case like Jason's, because it would be difficult to talk to Lucija in Arkansas or Montenegro any other way. They should not be used in place of just a little patience and some face-to-face conversation. They should not be permanent fixtures on the side of your head, like some technological cancer.
Cell phones are not making life easier. They're condemning you to meaningless, useless chatter in place of actual thought.
On the other hand, look where "actual thought" leads someone like me.
And as a final note, I'm not one of those people who thinks cell phones cause the death of society. First, I never thought society was exactly alive and well. Second, I don't confuse "cell phones" and "capitalism."
Okay, I'm done with that shit.
In other news, I watched about half of the fantastic film You Got Served with Beard, Jason and Tony the other day. We almost changed our idea from rap battles in our basement to dance battles on Woodland Avenue with cardboard on the streets. But we thought it was unlikely we could get Steve Harvey here.
He said "It's on!" during the movie. It was great.
And I guess that's about all. Please post a comment and let me know what I should review next. I'm leaning toward maybe a review of an issue of Flyer News. That would be funny to the 20 of us that read Flyer News.
Love,
Steve
Friday, January 06, 2006
PRETTY SOON WE WON'T BE ABLE TO SAY THE WORD CHRISTMAS AT ALL
Okay here we are. Second semester.
Which, by the way, is:
SOC 343 Mass Communication and Modern Society MWF 10-10:50
SCI 240 Some immense title that means "Biology" MWF 1-1:50
ENG 480 Tutoring class W 3-3:50
ENG 476 Composition Theory TTh 4:30-5:45
ENG 4something something Thesis Whenever I want
What I'm trying to say is, it's really really easy.
The letter to Vonnegut's editor is finished. This weekend I'm going to print it, then mail it Monday or Tuesday. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.
So: Christmas break. It was average. I got a cell phone. Shut up.
My brother, my dad, and I--along with about nine other guys from high school--went up to Detroit to see Akron U lose to Memphis in the Motor City Bowl. Then we went to Windsor, Ontario, and played Texas Hold'em in Casino Windsor. We all lost quick, but it was pretty fun.
I got kind of tired of this "attack on Christmas" bull shit. First, it's not "illegal" to say it, as a painfully bad editorial in the Flyer News seemed to suggest. It's slowly being phased out at retailers and other semi-public private places. This is absolutely natural. After all, in America, we only have one God, but it $ure isn't Yahweh. So conservatives: settle down. You're still getting your way constantly. If someone doesn't wish you Merry Christmas, it's just because they're serving the only God they ¢an.
In somewhat related, hilarious news, look at this wonderful CNN article. It makes me giggle. If the Catholic Church--and, by extension, I guess every religion--is kicked out of Italy, then I don't know what. I guess that would make conservatives right about the whole "Old Europe" thing. Sort of makes "Happy Holidays" look like "Praise Jesus."
Okay that's all the time I have. I have a Flyer News article to write.
Which, by the way, is:
SOC 343 Mass Communication and Modern Society MWF 10-10:50
SCI 240 Some immense title that means "Biology" MWF 1-1:50
ENG 480 Tutoring class W 3-3:50
ENG 476 Composition Theory TTh 4:30-5:45
ENG 4something something Thesis Whenever I want
What I'm trying to say is, it's really really easy.
The letter to Vonnegut's editor is finished. This weekend I'm going to print it, then mail it Monday or Tuesday. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.
So: Christmas break. It was average. I got a cell phone. Shut up.
My brother, my dad, and I--along with about nine other guys from high school--went up to Detroit to see Akron U lose to Memphis in the Motor City Bowl. Then we went to Windsor, Ontario, and played Texas Hold'em in Casino Windsor. We all lost quick, but it was pretty fun.
I got kind of tired of this "attack on Christmas" bull shit. First, it's not "illegal" to say it, as a painfully bad editorial in the Flyer News seemed to suggest. It's slowly being phased out at retailers and other semi-public private places. This is absolutely natural. After all, in America, we only have one God, but it $ure isn't Yahweh. So conservatives: settle down. You're still getting your way constantly. If someone doesn't wish you Merry Christmas, it's just because they're serving the only God they ¢an.
In somewhat related, hilarious news, look at this wonderful CNN article. It makes me giggle. If the Catholic Church--and, by extension, I guess every religion--is kicked out of Italy, then I don't know what. I guess that would make conservatives right about the whole "Old Europe" thing. Sort of makes "Happy Holidays" look like "Praise Jesus."
Okay that's all the time I have. I have a Flyer News article to write.
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