Oddly enough, that was the industry I was looking for work in when we moved to New York--the tech industry. Also, oddly enough, the name "silicon alley" is a bit of a misnomer, as there aren't any alleys in New York.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Maybe You Saw This Already...
It looks like 9/17 for Bleeding Edge, and it sounds like it's set during the time in between the dot com bubble bursting and the 9/11 attacks, in the "Silicon alley" section of NYC.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
When You Get Some Time...
I know finding time to read is difficult, and right now I'm having trouble finding time to write, either on my book or on my many blogs. But...
...I submit for you, Norm, a list of links of pretty well written history, a so-called Winners' History of Rock 'n Roll. Rock criticism has centered around how commercialism through radio and MTV basically destroyed the music scene, and if you like the major popular bands, you're a sucker or you don't understand history.
I'm pretty unfamiliar with rock criticism in general, but I do have a sense of the Lester Bangs-ification of skewering the most popular rock bands and complaining that everything's sucked since punk became commercialized in something like 1980 or 1983.
It was with that in mind that this writer named Steven Hyden decided to look at the long arc of rock history from the advantage of what he considers the Winners, and for their time, the undisputed Lords of Rock. These are bands I've heard of. These are the bands I know. My understanding of the "true rock scholarship" is as lacking as plenty of folks' understanding of the importance of Chandler Brossard on the world inherited by Pynchon and Foster Wallace.
There are seven pieces total, and each has a contextual history concerning the age in question. Each is quite long and, for me at least, quite enjoyable. But in all honesty, I haven't been able to read through entirely any of them beyond the first one. One reason I'm putting the links here is so I can get back to them later. I felt like if anyone should read these and this perspective, it'd be you, Norm.
So, here we go with some jump links:
1) Led Zeppelin
2) Kiss
3) Bon Jovi
4) Aerosmith
5) Metallica
6) Linkin Park
7) Black Keys
Hyden can explain his background and motives better than I, but I'd imagine you won't be disappointed when you get to it.
...I submit for you, Norm, a list of links of pretty well written history, a so-called Winners' History of Rock 'n Roll. Rock criticism has centered around how commercialism through radio and MTV basically destroyed the music scene, and if you like the major popular bands, you're a sucker or you don't understand history.
I'm pretty unfamiliar with rock criticism in general, but I do have a sense of the Lester Bangs-ification of skewering the most popular rock bands and complaining that everything's sucked since punk became commercialized in something like 1980 or 1983.
It was with that in mind that this writer named Steven Hyden decided to look at the long arc of rock history from the advantage of what he considers the Winners, and for their time, the undisputed Lords of Rock. These are bands I've heard of. These are the bands I know. My understanding of the "true rock scholarship" is as lacking as plenty of folks' understanding of the importance of Chandler Brossard on the world inherited by Pynchon and Foster Wallace.
There are seven pieces total, and each has a contextual history concerning the age in question. Each is quite long and, for me at least, quite enjoyable. But in all honesty, I haven't been able to read through entirely any of them beyond the first one. One reason I'm putting the links here is so I can get back to them later. I felt like if anyone should read these and this perspective, it'd be you, Norm.
So, here we go with some jump links:
1) Led Zeppelin
2) Kiss
3) Bon Jovi
4) Aerosmith
5) Metallica
6) Linkin Park
7) Black Keys
Hyden can explain his background and motives better than I, but I'd imagine you won't be disappointed when you get to it.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
"Yo Mama!" and Pynchonian Journeys
Okay, Norm, I've been trying to get to writing a Pynchon post for some time now. At first I wanted to detail how Tommy P deals with women. I quickly realized that that endeavor would take far more space and time that I was really willing to give at this point...at least to do it justice.
See...watch:
Rachel Owlglass: not a whore, right?
Oedipa Maas: not a whore, but she does drunkenly sleep with that child-actor-turned-detective while trying to be faithful to her losing-his-shit husband.
Katje: a government assigned full-on dirty whore.
Frenesi: Family ruining, bad-guy boning whore.
Lake Traverse: has regular threesomes with the two guys who murdered her father.
Shasta: not a whore, right? Just not into Doc.
See? Who wants to write a whole bunch of words about that? While Jess and Tchitcherine's girl (who's also a bit of a whore) don't balance Katje by any stretch of the imagination, there's Prairie and DL, and they may actually balance the amount of time given to Frenesi. And Dally certainly outshines Lake.
Whatever.
Bleeding Edge? Bleeding Edge!
I am still planning on going by some of the local bars in the morning hours in Venice Beach (and even out here) to rouse some of the old timers to see if any of them know our man. I know that's crazy, but hell, if the man lived out here and was a head, then someone may have smoked dope with him before he moved to Mexico. And if they got him talking? Well, from everything I've read, he didn't do much talking to random heads he partied with. See? I talk a lot more with random strangers about writing and storytelling than it seems Pynchon ever did, and I don't really reveal any story tidbits to those same random heads, so the Venice Beach trip seems likely to not turn up much.
I did find a coffee roaster in LA near Silver Lake and Echo Park that calls itself Trystero Coffee. Their logo is the muted horn. I'll be arranging a visit with them (that's how they operate).
Rambling Man...
I was looking up something that now I can't remember, but it lead me to a collection of pages in specific works that had Pynchon's characters engaging in "Yo mama..." style trash-talking. The one listed from the earliest book is also the earliest chronologically, from Mason & Dixon.
On page 445 two ax-men's conflict devolves into shouting rhyming couplets that insult each other's mothers. The ax-men scene takes place during the ax-men section of the book, when M&D were making the state line between Pennsylvania and Maryland official and cutting it into the forest.
In Against the Day, on page 12, Lindsay, one of the Chums, is chastising the young Darby, threatening him with a head-butt, using a colloquial phrase "Liverpool Kiss", and then remarking that up to that point in young Darby's life, only his mother, a likely disaffected and lonely woman, would have shown him that kind of attention. On page 48 Franz Ferdinand, the archduke who's assassination sparks WWI, is getting drunk in a Chicago bar during the Columbus Exposition and World's Fair in 1893, and trying to start a bar brawl by claiming one of the patron's mother plays for the Chicago White Stockings (which didn't exist at the time? Maybe a minor league team...).
The last was a page 155 reference from Inherent Vice, from a song "Soul Gidgit" by "one of the rare entries in the 'black surf music' genre", a lyric about "frontin' for your mother."
I guess I'm just a rambling dude...
I've been using Against the Day recently as a pacing guide for my novel, as it's easier to keep my head wrapped around than Gravity's Rainbow. I had been using GR for certain things I liked, but it's too fragmented or splintered and out there...it'll be more useful later on in my writing I guess.
I'm getting worked up about Bleeding Edge...thirsting for information, but Pynchon is secretive with his own people, let alone Penguin Press twitter-account-updaters.
See...watch:
Rachel Owlglass: not a whore, right?
Oedipa Maas: not a whore, but she does drunkenly sleep with that child-actor-turned-detective while trying to be faithful to her losing-his-shit husband.
Katje: a government assigned full-on dirty whore.
Frenesi: Family ruining, bad-guy boning whore.
Lake Traverse: has regular threesomes with the two guys who murdered her father.
Shasta: not a whore, right? Just not into Doc.
See? Who wants to write a whole bunch of words about that? While Jess and Tchitcherine's girl (who's also a bit of a whore) don't balance Katje by any stretch of the imagination, there's Prairie and DL, and they may actually balance the amount of time given to Frenesi. And Dally certainly outshines Lake.
Whatever.
Bleeding Edge? Bleeding Edge!
I am still planning on going by some of the local bars in the morning hours in Venice Beach (and even out here) to rouse some of the old timers to see if any of them know our man. I know that's crazy, but hell, if the man lived out here and was a head, then someone may have smoked dope with him before he moved to Mexico. And if they got him talking? Well, from everything I've read, he didn't do much talking to random heads he partied with. See? I talk a lot more with random strangers about writing and storytelling than it seems Pynchon ever did, and I don't really reveal any story tidbits to those same random heads, so the Venice Beach trip seems likely to not turn up much.
I did find a coffee roaster in LA near Silver Lake and Echo Park that calls itself Trystero Coffee. Their logo is the muted horn. I'll be arranging a visit with them (that's how they operate).
Rambling Man...
I was looking up something that now I can't remember, but it lead me to a collection of pages in specific works that had Pynchon's characters engaging in "Yo mama..." style trash-talking. The one listed from the earliest book is also the earliest chronologically, from Mason & Dixon.
On page 445 two ax-men's conflict devolves into shouting rhyming couplets that insult each other's mothers. The ax-men scene takes place during the ax-men section of the book, when M&D were making the state line between Pennsylvania and Maryland official and cutting it into the forest.
In Against the Day, on page 12, Lindsay, one of the Chums, is chastising the young Darby, threatening him with a head-butt, using a colloquial phrase "Liverpool Kiss", and then remarking that up to that point in young Darby's life, only his mother, a likely disaffected and lonely woman, would have shown him that kind of attention. On page 48 Franz Ferdinand, the archduke who's assassination sparks WWI, is getting drunk in a Chicago bar during the Columbus Exposition and World's Fair in 1893, and trying to start a bar brawl by claiming one of the patron's mother plays for the Chicago White Stockings (which didn't exist at the time? Maybe a minor league team...).
The last was a page 155 reference from Inherent Vice, from a song "Soul Gidgit" by "one of the rare entries in the 'black surf music' genre", a lyric about "frontin' for your mother."
I guess I'm just a rambling dude...
I've been using Against the Day recently as a pacing guide for my novel, as it's easier to keep my head wrapped around than Gravity's Rainbow. I had been using GR for certain things I liked, but it's too fragmented or splintered and out there...it'll be more useful later on in my writing I guess.
I'm getting worked up about Bleeding Edge...thirsting for information, but Pynchon is secretive with his own people, let alone Penguin Press twitter-account-updaters.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Preemptive Explanation
Ma will probably be telling you about this at some point, Norm, so I thought I'd jump the gun. Let me preface this by saying I don't know anything about kids, really. I've never spent that much time around them, and I'm confident enough in my interpersonal skills otherwise to admit that.
Also, I'm a lagger. And the Decemberween gifts are just chillin' here on the table, and I hadn't sent them because I was sure that Liz and I were going to make a trip, and then I got busy...you of all people know how it is.
But I had stuff wrapped and in boxes and I thought about giving something special to Norman, so I pulled down a box of gear you and Dan marked "Mop's Toys" and started rummaging.
Later on I was on the phone with ma for an unrelated reason, and then brought up a question about appropriate toys for the boy, but more along the lines of, "Would they be cool with this type of toy?"
She said, with that famous what in the hell are you talkin' about voice, "He's not even two years old," like I was a moron.
And, uh, I am a moron, I guess. I didn't even think about him being such a little person, a tiny rambunctious little creature. I had action figures, like an old Han Solo guy and a hairy He-Man villain and a glow in the dark dinosaur and a little Hot-Wheels Ferrari 308 GTB (the car looks pretty cool--I'll save it for him for later).
It never occurred to me that his age would make him likely to try and swallow the Ferrari or Han Solo. What can I say besides I don't really know anything about kids.
It also makes me excited to be getting closer to that adventure.
I hope you realize how much Uncle Pat loves his nephew, right? I think my heart was in the right place...
(I'm still having a laugh about it.)
Also, I'm a lagger. And the Decemberween gifts are just chillin' here on the table, and I hadn't sent them because I was sure that Liz and I were going to make a trip, and then I got busy...you of all people know how it is.
But I had stuff wrapped and in boxes and I thought about giving something special to Norman, so I pulled down a box of gear you and Dan marked "Mop's Toys" and started rummaging.
Later on I was on the phone with ma for an unrelated reason, and then brought up a question about appropriate toys for the boy, but more along the lines of, "Would they be cool with this type of toy?"
She said, with that famous what in the hell are you talkin' about voice, "He's not even two years old," like I was a moron.
And, uh, I am a moron, I guess. I didn't even think about him being such a little person, a tiny rambunctious little creature. I had action figures, like an old Han Solo guy and a hairy He-Man villain and a glow in the dark dinosaur and a little Hot-Wheels Ferrari 308 GTB (the car looks pretty cool--I'll save it for him for later).
It never occurred to me that his age would make him likely to try and swallow the Ferrari or Han Solo. What can I say besides I don't really know anything about kids.
It also makes me excited to be getting closer to that adventure.
I hope you realize how much Uncle Pat loves his nephew, right? I think my heart was in the right place...
(I'm still having a laugh about it.)
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Thursday, January 10, 2013
A Glimpse of the Twenty-Thirteen
As I started to get little tiny posts up here and there, I realized that I hadn't been over here in a while. I have a file folder on my lappy that has pictures of books specifically for this site, pictures of Pynchon books, Murakami and Foster Wallace and Flanagan's works, pictures of books by Murong and Mo Yan and Brossard. The Chandler Brossard's were the last pictures I'd added to the folder. I even started Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, but time grew short between all the things. It sits on my front table 200+ pages in, and not abandoned, just, you know, time...
Meanwhile, I'm speeding through a book that Auntie Peg and Uncle Dan got me, a memoir from a novelist who somehow spent twenty years (at the time of publication, in '82-'83) in the screenplay writing business. I can say that I didn't plan to read it in between the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, but this Hollywood book is like sugary popcorn with extra MSG; it's so fast, but lightweight. Uncle Dan, upon hearing my answer to his question of whether I had ever considered writing a screenplay (me: "Well, sorta...I know there's a good Nikola Tesla movie out there, just waiting to be made"), loaned me a nice bio of the Serb with a laugh. "Here's some source material for you," he told me. Folded in half and stuck in the Tesla bio was a Scientific American article about Tesla.
And I've got to say, this is as close as I've ever come to considering actually tackling a screenplay. Here they are:
William Goldman wrote Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and that screenplay is included in the book. He also has a section where he takes a story he wrote, forgot about, and was reintroduced to by his daughter and contorts it into a screenplay. That kind of mechanical work instruction, for a guy like me, is pretty much what it takes to get me considering a screenplay.
In any case, I'm still a lagger with the Decemberween gifts. Originally I wanted to bring them up myself on a visit with Liz, but with tutoring, the CBEST test, a meeting with Dominguez Hills CSU, and the face to face hocking of Robot Crickets in my region, I haven't been able to get away, or to the post office to mail the stuff. You know how days fritter away...
Happy New Year Brother, to you and yours!
Meanwhile, I'm speeding through a book that Auntie Peg and Uncle Dan got me, a memoir from a novelist who somehow spent twenty years (at the time of publication, in '82-'83) in the screenplay writing business. I can say that I didn't plan to read it in between the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, but this Hollywood book is like sugary popcorn with extra MSG; it's so fast, but lightweight. Uncle Dan, upon hearing my answer to his question of whether I had ever considered writing a screenplay (me: "Well, sorta...I know there's a good Nikola Tesla movie out there, just waiting to be made"), loaned me a nice bio of the Serb with a laugh. "Here's some source material for you," he told me. Folded in half and stuck in the Tesla bio was a Scientific American article about Tesla.
And I've got to say, this is as close as I've ever come to considering actually tackling a screenplay. Here they are:
William Goldman wrote Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and that screenplay is included in the book. He also has a section where he takes a story he wrote, forgot about, and was reintroduced to by his daughter and contorts it into a screenplay. That kind of mechanical work instruction, for a guy like me, is pretty much what it takes to get me considering a screenplay.
In any case, I'm still a lagger with the Decemberween gifts. Originally I wanted to bring them up myself on a visit with Liz, but with tutoring, the CBEST test, a meeting with Dominguez Hills CSU, and the face to face hocking of Robot Crickets in my region, I haven't been able to get away, or to the post office to mail the stuff. You know how days fritter away...
Happy New Year Brother, to you and yours!
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