THIS WEEK IN LITERARY HISTORYAfter his wife Vera rescues a manuscript from a fire,Vladimir Nabokov decides to call his work Lolita,changing it from his initial title,Humbert Does Dolores. | 12 August 2011 I don’t get much in the ol’bookfraud.com e-mailbag. In fact, I almost never check the box. Then,this: On Thu,Aug 4,2011 at 11:43 PM,<XXXXX@sohu.com>wrote: Good afternoon to you from the People’s Republic of China! I am Mr. D_______ from Office of Information Maintenance at Ministry of Foreign Affairs (IMMFA). I am writing to you on behalf of the People’s Republic of China in response to your unfair and malicious remarks at: http://bookfraud.com/2010/05/15/ni-hao-kai-lan-one-mans-insanity/ Specifically,you criticized the children’s television program “Ni Hao,Kai-lan”,your child’s favorite television show that they cannot get enough of. “Ni Hao,Kai-lan”is not “propaganda”,though we understand that you have made this mistake because you are a product of your country’s poor education system. It is The People’s Republic of China’s attempt to help the struggling American Empire in the coming days. As your poor and backwards nation owes ours 95 trillian dollars in debt,it is obvious that when your child is an adult they will need to speak Chinese well to perform their duties in our clean and modern factories. It is also our hope that through this children’s program we can share some of China’s superior culture and history with the children of America,a country with no culture of its own. So,as you plainly see,“Ni Hao,Kai-lan”is a form of humanitarian aid. You will notice many reports in your biased American news programs of Chinese hackers penetrating the Pentagon. They do not work for our government. They are just children in their homes performing a hobby. In their way,they are so anxious to serve their beloved nation! Of course we do not encourage this. But if Chinese hackers can do such things in their homes,imagine how technologically advanced our government must be! Probably you cannot imagine it. The reason is because you having nothing to compare it to in America. We hope you have learned many things from our kind e-mail to you. If you have any questions,please direct them to your area’s local Consulate General of China or Chinese Embassy. They are used to answering many questions to clear up the ignorance of misinformed Americans. Furthermore,each employee speaks fluent English in addition to other languages,as we are aware that America is decades behind the rest of the developed world in language education. Finally,we are aware that due to poor diet and exercise habits Americans have difficulty in climbing stairs,so our embassy offices have elevators for your convenience. As you can see,we have arranged for your every need to be fulfilled in helping you better understand “Ni Hao,Kai-lan”so that you are no longer confused and intimidated by this child’s cartoon show. Kindest regards to you, C____ D_____ Office of Information Maintenance Ministry of Foreign Affairs People’s Republic of China This actually came over the transom, though it’s obviously a joke, and borderline racist to both Americans and Chinese. I suggest the letter writer spend his or her time looking for a better job,if he or she has one. Thought I sorta like jokes about bad schools and diet. Kinda funny, for a douchebag. Tweet 3 August 2011 You know the feeling. You’ve started your blog with a bang,built up a network of loyal readers, then boom! you run out of steam. You stop visiting other blogs. You stop writing your own. You spend you free time surfing for you-know-what or worse, watching television. No blog for you! Ha, ha, just a little blog humor there. Seriously,it’s when reality—family, friends,or anal retentive, dingleberry-chomping fellow employees who spy over your shoulder and report to your boss that you’ve been “spending too much time on the Internet,” forcing me to write this out in a word processing document—intrudes. Suddenly, you don’t have a blog entry for days! Weeks! Months! Really,I have no idea So how do you get “back on track” and make sure your blog gets the attention it deserves? Here’s six surefire ways that you will put your blog back in business: 1) Lots of bulleted,numbed list. The Internet is a scannable medium, so you should make your blog as scannable as possible. Even though for a writer such as myself,making a written document “scannable” is akin to saying,“Nobody gives a fuck how well-crafted your sentences are or well-formed your ideas may be —I AM ON LEVEL 129 OF ANGRY BIRDS JUST GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING INFO DAMNIT 2) Links ahoy! Make sure there are a lot of links in your blog to other sites to related content. This generates credibility with readers, and ensures that you get lots of hits from people wanting know if Joshua Bell is gay or not. 3) Short sentences. Short paragraphs. Short entries. Short short short. 4) Lots of entries,few words! Which is good for someone like me who has nothing to actually say. 5) Keywords in bold. BOLD IS GOLD! 6) Great headlines. In headlines, always put a number, proper noun or a benefit to attract readers,such as “The 6 Ways I Will Reenergize My Blog.” Or “12 Ways the Tea Party,Koch Brothers and the Republican Party Suck Donkey Balls” or “How to Make Millions and Have the Greatest Time Ever Through Reading This Blog*.” 6A) (TOTALLY AWESOME, SUPER-SECRET BONUS WAY THAT I WILL REENERGIZE MY BLOG):PØ?N! And lots of it!!! Also, I could actually think something through, commit the idea to virtual paper, and post it here. But that would take work. And who has time for that? Blogito,ergo sum *Rob banks,pay for prostitutes. Tweet 18 January 2011 If “smart”bloggers need to be told that there’s a difference between “their”and “there,”it’s just a matter of time before the video gamers,illiterates,brain-dead jocks and the Jens of this earth simply swoop in and take over. . . . →Read More:“10 Writing Mistakes Smart Bloggers Make,”or Why Writing As We Know It Is Dead 5 January 2011 My message to myself is simple:“Think positive,Bookfraud,think positive. Be superpowerful. Stop making fun of Wayne Newton.” . . . →Read More:Resolved:A Better 2010…or 2011…or Whatever the Hell Year It Is 8 August 2010 My dormmate Frank was a racist buffoon,and he drew his rationalizations for being a bigot from someone who should have known better,Clint Eastwood. . . . →Read More:Frank’s a Bigot,Clint Eastwood Is Not,and I’m Here to Explain the Difference 30 June 2010 If you can tell me why my normal theme isn't loading and how to fix it,and tell me why this seems to be permanently pasted to the left of my header,not only will you win my eternal gratitude,but also a cash prize that will allow you to feed yourself and one person at Popeye's. Value meals only.. Just think about all that fried chicken goodness… Please,I'm dying here. Tweet 11 June 2010 Before we start,let’s get a few things straight. First of all,I’m not going to be your buddy,I’m not going to hang out with you,and most of all,I’m not going to help your whale-turd of a novel get published. . . . →Read More:Let’s Get a Few Things Straight 26 January 2010 This blog entry is about me,or the lack of me,or the unfathomable reasons that I have not existed the past six months–Bookfraud,the blogger,not Me,the Man Behind Bookfraud Who Wants to Believe He Looks Like and Gets as Much Action as George Clooney But Looks and Acts Closer to Richard Dawson After a 72-Hour Bender. It starts like this:When I think of something being "perfect,"in the Platonic sense of the word,in that representation is the enemy of the real,in that nothing that can be written,sung,painted,or performed on stage can ever match the Form in which it imperfectly represents,I think of Bach and Glenn Gould. (Stick with me here.) I am of limited intellectual capacity and lesser patience,but if a recording of Glenn Gould playing "The Goldberg Variations"was playing in a car,and that car was speeding at 100 miles per hour about to run off a cliff,and if you were to drop me in the driver’s seat,the car would surely dive over the cliff unimpeded because I was thus transfixed. My favorite composer is Beethoven,my favorite pianist is probably Vladimir Horowitz,my favorite rock singer probably Joey Ramone,but if I had to pick one recording that puts me into a state of hypnosis,it’s Glenn Gould playing Bach. Now,the last time I wrote regularly in this space,I had a different job,lived in a different city,did not suffer from pestilence or pain. And when I actually wrote in this space at all–that being in August–Tiger Woods was still known as a golfer,when Jay and Conan were still friendly,the Supreme Court had not officially put plutocrats in charge of the United States,and we associated Haiti with a simply terrible history,overwhelming poverty,and helplessness. For this golfer,perfection no longer entails making a hole in one I consider those (relatively) stress-free days of 2008 in which I would check four or five blogs each day,usually at the office,without fear of prying eyes or corporate overlords,the latter of which was spending most of its time trying to figure out how avoid government indictments which I can happy testify was not on account of my actions. No,looking back,I can see when the decent into non-blogging began:when I got laid off last year. I didn’t succumb to depression,nor did I lack subject material or desire,but it was time,that evil crook,which took everything away from me. That,and perennial,pathetic exhaustion. After our fun-filled trek across this great nation of ours to relocate for a new job,I find myself somewhat settled in. My job keeps me busy,not that I’m complaining,and I am dutifully going to the pool to stave off the knee implants at least until age 60. Totster is entering daycare,Wife is complaining about my fill-in-the-blank fuckup but just every other day,and I have grown bored with surfing the Web for scantily clad ladies. Or naked ones,for that matter. You talkin’to me? What has been hampering me–nay,crippling me–has been this nagging sense of imperfection in all of my deeds. I sit down,intending to write or blog or tap out a sentence of . . . →Read More:The Blog That Ate Me 9 February 2009 I’ve gotten in three car accidents,but only two were my fault,and one was when I was 18,so it doesn’t count. . . . →Read More:25 Random Things About Me (All True!) You Would Just as Rather Not Know 2 June 2008 [The reader] is motivated to throw the volume across the living room,where it inevitably will strike an expensive piece of porcelain passed down 10 generations of your wife’s family. . . . →Read More:Book Review:The Brief History of the Dead,or I Want a Recount 13 May 2008 Wife and I are considering a move to the suburbs,as we have decided that our carbon footprint is not large enough. . . . →Read More:You Schnook Me All Night Long 5 May 2008 Facebook gratifies older folk who enjoy sharing news of every urinary tract infection or enlarged prostate with relative strangers and strange relatives. . . . →Read More:The Face Land 9 March 2008 I had avoided being tagged for lo these many years,probably because most bloggers find me an irritating,ingratiating,and generally masturbating presence on their sites . . . →Read More:The Memeing of Life 27 February 2008 Welcome to the All-New Bookfraud,where you’ll get more features,more posts,and more eyestrain than ever! A crappy new header,which I designed and made myself! Real links to real writers! One or two posts a year actually about books and writing! And,as promised,more exclamation points!!! After three years (!) of posting on Blogspot,yours truly decided that it was about time to get my own domain,and join the "adult"world of blogging (unfortunately,not the world of "adult blogging"). It is a world in which something called "Perez Hilton"gets 3,450 times more viewers in an hour than I do in a year,but no matter. Also,I thought owning a domain would be cool,and wanted to do some stuff I couldn’t on Blogspot. Maybe you like the new design,maybe you think it’s hideous. Would love to know your opinion. But first,let’s consider the new features,sans exclamation points: THIS WEEK IN LITERARY HISTORY:Notice the all-caps. Notice the lame joke. Basically,an outlet for my inner bad comic,mixed with my literary sensibility. If you think this is genuinely funny,then I’ll buy you a beer and make you laugh until you hurt. About 11 beers,that is. Feed the Beast:I still don’t know how all of the services work,and Technorati is like Greek,but every blog "expert"says I should have E-Z links to them. Why? Because I want to be more popular. Because I’m insecure. Because I’m a writer. In any case,if you can explain how Technorati works,and why I should link to it —and just how the hell to link to it – I’ll send you a picture of Baby. He’s really really really really cute. My BF Posts;Not Necessarily Yours:These are my favorite entries. They’re not necessarily the best or any good at all,for that matter. I stole this idea from another blog,though I can’t remember which one. Feel free to claim credit. Linx Pak:When I was in college,one of my favorite pastimes was riding over golf courses at midnight while listening to Black Flag’s "Six Pack"("Thirty-five dollars and a six-pack to my name! Six pack!"). This is a homage to those bright,happy days before my soul was crushed by the corporate grinder,ignorant book editors,even more ignorant literary journal editors,and the machine. I had resisted putting links together on the old incarnation of this blog,for reasons I can’t remember. I guess I just gave in this time. E-mail:That’s not new. Recent Posts:Not new,either. Top 12 Works of Fiction (This Week):This migrated over from Blogspot;it’s sorta,kinda new. It’s just some cool thing in which I,the learned expert,get to tell you,the reader,what you should be reading,because I am certainly correct in all things literary,though I can’t write a graduate-level English paper for shit. Recent Comments:Doesn’t serve any purpose,but it’s kinda cool. Spam Blocked:Why this number would interest anybody is a mystery to me,but to get the spam blocker you put the widget in the sidebar, . . . →Read More:All New Site,Same Old Shite 28 July 2007 I had written 800 brilliant,scabrous words on the rise of Harry Potter — and how adults have co-opted the franchise — but I inadvertently erased them for reasons not worth elaborating upon. Such absentminded mistakes on my part are common these days,but that’s another story. In lieu of my Harry Hate,here’s a sampling of the chronic data stream uploading in my head,which I know readers are just dying to hear about. •In the “How the Fuck Haven’t I Read Everything This Person Has Written Yet?” Department,I’m reading Orhan Pamuk’s “My Name Is Red.” While the novel can be slow going,it is also absolutely brilliant. I don’t know how I’ve managed to avoid Mr. Pamuk until now (though I’m not exactly well-schooled in modern Turkish writers. Mediaeval ones,either). Pamuk is a genius,a word I don’t throw around lightly with writers,and even in translation,it’s obvious why this dude won the Nobel Prize. Read this,not “Harry Potter and the Sphincter of Fire.” (More on Harry later.) •The Chicago Cubs have decided that playing baseball was more fun than beating the snot out of each other,and have the best record in the majors since manager Lou Pinella’s head exploded in June. This is a bad thing. The Cubs are three games out of first place,and as a result,I am a stupid,love-struck teenager once more,following their every pitch and swing of the bat. They will ultimately break my heart,and yet I still watch them with blind affection. Call me stupid;call me a sports fan. •Media Mania Over Drug Addled,DUI Hollywood Hos! I just wanted to say that. •I am coming down with yet another cold. My throat feels like a morbidly obese union carpenter is using a power sander where my tonsils used to reside. •Baby won’t abide his crib,despite his parents’ unstilted efforts to get him to do otherwise. We’ll put him down,asleep,and in the time it takes the pee to hit the urinal (as I have been holding it in for about 73 minutes as I hold the little bugger),his cries echo through our home;first,flaccid and weak,then increasing in volume until The End of the World is nigh. My solution for this is just let Baby cry until he loses his voice,permanently. He’ll eventually fall asleep and we won’t ever have to hear his rotten screaming ever again. Wrigley:scene of the crime •The number of comments on my blog as ground into a number smaller than functioning brain cells in Dick Cheney’s diseased mind. There is a fair amount of blogrolling (you comment on my blog,I’ll comment on yours) in cyberspace,and as I struggle to keep up with others’ blogs,nobody visits here,unless you count the turds who want to know if a certain violinist is gay and you know who you are and if this is how you spend your time,asking if this man is gay,then you live an impoverished intellectual and spiritual life indeed. Learn how to drink or something. •I changed the layout,added polls,and some bizzare rating systemf at the bottom of each post,and one can see the overwhelming response. It would probably do me more good if,like, . . . →Read More:The Coolest Guy Show in the World,or Why Adults Shouldn’t Read “Harry Potter” 19 October 2006 I had initially titled this posting “I Suck,”but it is such an obvious fact to that there’s really no reason in reiterating it in lights. Self-loathing is the cheapest trick in the writer’s bag of rhetoric,but it is also part-and-parcel of an artistic temperament. Those who write or paint or compose and have the facade of supreme confidence are to be avoided at all costs. You know the type. They’ve got the novel published. They’ve gotten the great reviews. They’ve got money,fame,and literary esteem. But they hate themselves. It’s not just that such folk are Holden Caulfield phonies,but I daresay that a suicide attempt has rained on their past,or soon will. A hyper-confident facade is overcompensation,and for all the psycho-babble in our culture about self-esteem,it may not do well for writers. If you had perfect self-esteem,you would believe that you were incapable of doing wrong. You know,like the Nazis or George Bush. Not that I’m comparing the two. Though they may have their own pools of self-doubt,however,most the successful artists I know don’t hate themselves. But I do. At least on October 18,2006. Avoid phonies —in any language You see,there’s a reason why I’m not looking at other blogs or posting on my own save for the most lengthy of intervals. My stories are getting turned down. My novel rewrite is on the road to nowhere. I see rejection everywhere I look. As this translates itself to the art of fiction,every word becomes leaden,every session at the computer is exquisite torture. I haven’t put up any blog posts lately because every time I start writing one,it gets deleted after a couple of pained,strained,drained,maimed,lame,tamed sentences filled with ridiculous adjectives. My writing feels like an amalgam of juvenile poetry and adult schlock. This hasn’t been helped by certain problems at work,which have put me into a deep funk for reasons you don’t need to know,except a certain individual is making me miserable. Of late,certain developments in my life should,on the surface,make me very happy. And the course of my existence is good,by all possible measures. But there’s one area in which I feel inadequate,and that is in the written word. It’s funny how one can be humming right along,and then a harmonic convergence blows one’s confidence to shreds. To wit:I get a rejection letter,I sulk,I’ll watch football on TV,then feel guilty about not writing,try to write,give it up,and watch football on TV. It’s like being roasted on one of those sterno weenie burners. One thing I’ve noticed is that I’m not reading a book that is making me want to write. I’ve just started Christopher Isherwood two-novel set of “The Berlin Stories,”as I figure since I have seen the musical and the movie,I might as well be familiar with the source material. The book is interesting for its anachronistic tone and writing,but so far,Mr. Isherwood,I’m Just Not That Into You. (But we’ll go out on a couple of more dates.) See the movie,read the book Is there anyone I hate more than myself? Let’s consider the possibilities: Bookfraud:inability to publish . . . →Read More:Who Do I Hate? | My Favorite BF Posts;Probably Not Yours |
That’s What You Said