oh the things i shall tell you dear reader. the things, the not things, and the other things. okay, Spike Lee. sometime in late august i had the opportunity to see a premiere of his latest film, red hook summer, at BAM. the film itself was ehh- enjoyable but nothing worth fawning over. however, after the film, Spike did a Q and A that was interesting, to say the least. he was witty, engaging, self deprecating, and high as fuck. some pretentious NYU film student asked asinine questions and Spike quickly shut him the fuck up. it was a good experience overall. certainly one of the better i've had in Brooklyn (the others consisting of buying drugs, and shitty house shows).
let's talk about the Safety Pin Review, alright? it's a new lit mag run by the cool as shit Simon Jacobs. i have no opinion on the endless debate about over saturation of literary journals. i like most everything i read in most every journal, with the obvious except of some bullshit that's been published. however, what Simon does is (i believe) completely uncharted territory. while SPR has an online component with archives of the thirty odd pieces its published so far (including one from yours truly); it's their other side that makes them groundbreaking. Simon paints the microfictions onto patches and sends them around the world to be worn by operatives. fuck. let's think about this for just one second. here is a literary magazine/journal/concern which is not in print, in the traditional sense, and has it's stories worn as clothing. has anyone done this before? probably. do i know of anyone that's done this before? no. SPR is without a doubt (seriously, nothing else is even close) coolest idea/venture in indie publishing today. fucking quote me on that. worth mentioning is that SPR isn't just a rad idea - they publish some fine writing. contributors include xTx, Brandi Wells, Barry Basden, Chad Redden, Russ Woods, Helen Vitoria, and many others i'm not familiar with. SPR doesn't publish a small section of a larger story, they publish fully formed, dare i say beautifully fucked up, 30 word stories. marginally related is the fact that Simon sent me a copy of a chapbook he's putting together. how honored was i to be asked to read through it? very. it's called Partners (the title story can be found here). once it's published, or before if you're into that sorta thing, this book will rock your world so hard.
speaking of chapbooks, i have some cool news. Green Light Books in Brooklyn has a few copies of my NAP chap, i tried to bear the elephants and lost. get on that new york people! Turtleneck Press just released my second chapbook THEN. THEN is the semi story of this guy who kills himself then floats around as a ghost with a girl who killed herself. are they in purgatory? are they really ghosts? what happens? how do miles davis, redwood trees, a shark, rome, and bone cigarettes fit into their story? you'll just have to order the book and find out! it's five dollars (one more for shipping i think) and there are only sixty copies for the first printing. let's sell those sixty out! on a serious note, if you dear reader happen to order a copy, please email me and let me know. i will personally thank you and maybe send you naked pictures of myself. the fact that people read what i write, and seem to connect with it/enjoy it, is amazing (read: confusing).
there is certainly more to write about, but that is for another time dear reader. check out my updated links while i go and watch season seven of weeds (seriously Netflix rocks for adding new episodes!)