Some nice things

Erwin Ponce wrote a very nice review of Don't ever stay the same; keep changing, up now on the Black Ocean blog. He calls one line "playful and profound," which is nice because playful profundity is pretty much our MO.

Also, Kathy and I have some joke poems (from a series of prose poems structured like jokes) in the new issue of Opium. I don't have my copy yet but I bet it's real nice and I'm looking forward to its arrival.

Finally, John and I are reading in the Inescapable Rhythms series tomorrow night. On the slim chance that you happen to live in Hartford, swing by Real Art Ways around 7. Thanks to Andrea Henchey for being nice enough to invite us.

Thanks be to the world for its niceness. I'm in a bad mood tonight, but not for lack of niceties in the vicinity.

"I also think most that read Harper’s are too educated for their own good and can look down on everyone on both sides of an issue at the same time"

Usually with the stuff in Harper's Readings section, I know what I'm supposed to think. Usually, as I've noted before, it's something like, "The banality of human suffering: How droll" (e.g., the confessions of some warlord or a Frederick Seidel poem). But in the Nov. issue there's a bit that I don't really know what I'm supposed to think about. (Don't tell me it's an open text and I'm not supposed to think anything! Kool-Aid drinker.)

It's an excerpt from a transcript in which a member of the Followers of Christ church (Worthington) is tried for manslaughter after he neglects to take his baby daughter to the doctor for pneumonia and an infection "that could have been cured with antibiotics." (That's the first hint that I'm supposed to think something.) I assume we're supposed to point and laugh at the religious nut, but the thing is, he kind of makes more sense than the prosecutor (Horner):

WORTHINGTON: I would probably never use modern medicine myself. I've never felt that I've needed it. It wasn't because somebody forced this on me. It's because I've seen for myself, as I was growing up. When I was anointed, I felt better, so that trained me to have faith in it.
HORNER: Has your position changed as a result of what happened to your daughter?
WORTHINGTON: No, it's still the same.
HORNER: So the fact that you did not get your daughter to a hospital Saturday night, and she died a day later, has not changed your position on modern medicine?
WORTHINGTON: Well, it hasn't changed the way I feel. I've seen nothing here that's proved to me that it would have been any different had we taken her in. When a doctor can't do nothing for you, you usually put it in God's hands anyways, so that's where I'd had it the whole time. [Emphases mine]
HORNER: Even in retrospect, even knowing the outcome, you wouldn't change how you handled her medical condition?

He continues to basically berate the guy (which, I realize, is what prosecutors do), incredulously asking for clarification, when the guy's position is clear. I hate when people act confused to make a point. I mean, I'm an atheist, and I think religions that reject any and all medical intervention are stupid, of course, but the guy's position is remarkably consistent and lucid, compared to most nutjob Christians.

I think the part above in boldface is rather brilliant. Worthington essentially calls bullshit on Horner's hindsight fallacy (i.e., since you know the outcome now, obviously you should have acted differently) and simultaneously points out the hypocrisy of most pseudo-Christians who rely on doctors first and then only pray to God as a last resort. (I think he even implies that "anoint[ing] someone with olive oil" and a fair amount of "modern medicine" work on the same principle: faith, AKA the placebo effect.)

My question is, do the Harper's editors see this? Do most of their readers? Or are they mostly just snickering and shaking their heads at the backwoods dude who killed his baby?

P.S. I in no way advocate withholding antibiotics from infected babies. Also, I knock Harper's, but it is pretty much my favorite magazine. After Lucky. The other night I said to John, "I love reading Lucky. It's a pure experience." Meaning that I do it purely for pleasure, not because I feel like I should (which is true for at least half of what I read). And he nodded and said, "Yes, unsullied by crass commercialism." Ha ha! Lucky comes with little sticker tabs so you can mark all the shit you want to buy. AWESOME.

P.P.S. Someday I'm going to count up all the incidences of the word "wildly" in an issue of Lucky (as in, "wildly sensuous" or "wildly affordable"). It will be staggering.

Lauren Bans is my rival

My first exposure to the writer known as Lauren Bans was on This Recording, a culture blog I discovered when they sorta-reviewed my chapbook several years ago. They called the cover "cute as a button" and me "alluring" or some shit and now, natch, I love them. I think I would love them anyway, since they read and support indie lit and have good taste in music and hate on popular movies and post a lot of gratuitous pics of half-naked celebrities. They also have an undeniable bias toward writers with attractive headshots.

Lauren Bans wrote a review of 500 Days of Summer that I found to be dead on (despite not having bothered to see the movie). I shared it in my GOOG Reader and it partially inspired my post on pseudo-intellectual cliches. I can't remember what happened next; I think probably I followed her on Twitter and subsequently discovered that she also writes for the Double X blog.

Further readings have revealed that Lauren Bans' sense of humor and general writing style/tone (snarky yet essentially good-natured) are altogether too similar to mine for me to merely admire her. So, I have decided, she must be my rival. Take this response to the BoingBoing video on the reclamation of the word "douchebag." So many of my hallmarks are here: an admittance that a Venn diagram is in order coupled with a refusal to supply one; an overly finicky focus on semantics; an interest specifically in the semantics of the word "douchebag."

I mean, seriously, I could have written this. In fact someone sent me that video a day or two before I read the article and I remember having a similar reaction. Then, a couple of days after that, my ex sent me a link to the post and was like, Whoa: Venn diagrams and douchebags? And I was like, I KNOW. Then he said her Facebook pic looks like ScarJo.

ScarJo is my nemesis. Lauren Bans is my rival.

I think Heather Christle might also kind of be my rival. Usually when I read her poems, I think at least one line sounds like something I might have written, plus the same people seem to tend to like us. But she is more "famous" than me. She gets a whole week at HTML Giant. I don't think James Joyce and David Foster Wallace even got weeks. Hence! A mighty rivalry! It's problematic, though, because, aside from the fact that I think she's a good poet, she seems like a total sweetheart. The system is breaking down.

Maybe one day we can all have lunch or something.

Why people don't like MFA program rankings

Just as frequently as people complain about the methodology behind rankings of creative writing MFA programs, they complain about the very idea of such rankings. They claim that MFA rankings are inherently ridiculous, flawed in concept. I'm trying to figure out where this stance comes from, because it seems silly to me. I mean, if you don't get anything out of MFA rankings, you don't have to consult them. But why argue that they shouldn't exist at all?

Some possible reasons for believing that MFA rankings are bad and wrong:

1. You have an MFA or are otherwise associated with an MFA program (e.g., are employed by one) and you're worried your program won't rank well. I suppose this is a legitimate concern. If your MFA program wasn't previously ranked and now it's showing up dead last or at #72 on some supposedly definitive list, your degree is worth less in the eyes of the world. This is certainly true of me. I went to Emerson and Emerson isn't going to be on anyone's top 10 list. But I don't really give a fuck because I don't structure my life such that anything significant depends on the value of my graduate degree. I'm not trading on it for publications, academic jobs, etc. I'm not saying I'm better than you if your life does depend on the value of your degree, but perhaps it means I can be more rational about a ranking system than you.
   
   Of course, no one who's claiming to be anti-rankings on principle is admitting this as the reason.
   
   
2. MFA programs aren't like other graduate degree programs. Choosing one is like adopting a kitten. You just have to follow your heart and pick the one that feels most special to you! Ranking MFA programs is like ranking kittens. You can't rank kittens!!! (Or eat them.)
   
   I think some people actually believe this -- that creative writing programs can't be measured or compared quantitatively because writing is art and art's not quantitative. Basically, these people are confused. MFA programs can be compared along the same data points as other degree programs: cost, availability of funding, acceptance rate, average class size, etc. This information isn't any less factual because the classes are "about" art.
   
   
3. Closely related to #2: Accepting rankings means admitting that MFA programs are like other degree programs, which feels cheapening. It brings your MFA experience down to the cold, calculating level of douchebags going for an MBA. This is art. It's not a business. It's not about money, etc.
   
   
4. You just hate Seth Abramson. Which is your right, by God, but don't try to rationalize your hatred by arguing that everything he does is morally bankrupt and/or maddeningly broken in concept. Instead of going around leaving comments about how you can't rank kittens, just say "Seth Abramson is such a tool LOL" or your variation of choice.
   
   
5. Because your friends don't like them. There definitely seems to be some social bandwagoning going on here and it's very Mac vs. PC. Being anti-rankings or at least anti-Seth's rankings is what all the cool kids are doing. I like the cool kids (by which I mostly mean HTMLGiant; not being sarcastic, I really do love HTMLGiant) so I hope they don't stop liking me just because I don't see what the big flipping deal about rankings is.

I can't think of any more. Input?

BTW I've never met Seth Abramson and I don't follow his poetry so I'm not "defending" him (get it) on personal or poetry-buddy grounds.

Stupid misconceptions about vegetarianism

Someone whose opinions I otherwise respect wrote the following on Twitter last week, in response to Natalie Portman's appearance on Top Chef: "I don't think you can be a 'foodie'/'adventurous eater' if you're a vegetarian."

This is what I call a stupid misconception about vegetarianism. A "foodie" is just someone who is into food. They like eating it, cooking it, reading about it, etc. There is no logical reason that a vegetarian can't be into food.

There is also no reason a vegetarian can't be an adventurous eater. Being a finicky eater and being vegetarian are two totally different things. Vegetarians don't forgo meat because they're picky; they're taking an ethical stance. Most "adventurous" meat eaters probably don't eat kitten meat and human flesh; they're capable of drawing the line somewhere.

Anyway I realized it's been a while since I did a "things you should eat" post, so here are a couple of recipes for you. They are easy, so be adventurous -- put down your hot dog and give them a try!

Coconut-Peanut Sauce

ginger
garlic
peanut butter
a lime
soy sauce
sriracha
brown sugar
coconut milk (low-fat is fine)

Throw a knob of peeled fresh ginger and one or two cloves of garlic into a food processor and chop them up pretty fine. Add a big glob of peanut butter (like 1/3 of a cup or so), the juice of a lime, a splash of soy sauce, a squirt of sriracha, a couple of tablespoons of brown sugar (or to taste), and a dash of salt. Pulse that a bit to get it mixed together. Then thin it out with some coconut milk. You won't need the whole can, probably just 1/4 to 1/2 a cup. Get it all whirred together, taste and adjust as necessary so it's the consistency you want and has a good flavor balance: a little sweet, a little tangy, a little spicy.

I do one of two things with this: Eat it cold tossed with noodles (preferably fresh), tofu cubes, shredded carrot, thinly sliced red pepper and cucumber, and cilantro, or pour it over stir-friend tofu and veggies until it's warmed through and serve over rice. It's like dessert for dinner!

Migas, Adam Gabbert Style

Migas is an egg dish that's very popular in Austin. I don't know if it originated there or what. El Paso is the Mexican food capital of the world but I never had migas until I moved to east Texas. This is good for brunch or a quick dinner. Serve with beans and flour tortillas if you're not trying to eat less gluten.

Peanut oil (for frying)
4 (or so) corn tortillas
1 smallish white or yellow onion, chopped
1 medium-sized tomato, seeded if it's very juicy, chopped
1 fresh jalapeño, chopped
Butter (for sauteeing)
4 eggs, beaten with some salt and a splash of milk or half & half
1/3 cup or so shredded cheddar or jack cheese

If you're not fry-phobic, heat a couple of inches of peanut oil in a pan. Slice the corn tortillas into 1/2-inch strips. Fry them in batches until golden and crispy (a few minutes), then drain on paper towels and salt while they're hot. If this sounds terrible, you can use crushed up packaged tortilla chips. Just remember, fear is the mindkiller.

Melt a pat of butter in a large nonstick frying pan (or skillet, if you prefer) and sautee the onion over medium heat until it's softened but not brown. Add the tomato and jalapeño and a little salt and sautee a little longer, until it's starting to look kind of saucy and yummy. Lower the heat a little and add a bit more butter if the pan looks dry (or hit it with some cooking spray) and then pour in the eggs.

At this point you're basically just scrambling the eggs: drag a spatula back and forth across the pan, fold them around, etc. You don't want them to cook too quickly. Only unadventurous scumbags like overcooked eggs. When they're 75-80% done, throw in the fried tortilla strips and cheese and keep stirring until it's all incorporated and the cheese is melted and the eggs are done but still a bit soft. Alternatively, you can sprinkle the cheese on at the end for a melty top layer. Serve with salsa if you want, but the salsa's kind of already in there.

While you eat this, think fond thoughts of Texas, but if you've never been there, don't assume Austin's the only place in the state worth seeing. I'm so sick of Northerners hearing I'm from Texas and saying, "Oh yeah? I hear Austin's cool." There's more to Texas than 6th street, you uninformed dillholes.

The Secret Life of the Very-Late-Twentysomething

This morning I was flipping through a Pacifica catalog while I ate my breakfast--Pacifica is a company that makes like natural perfumes and soy candles and shit--and on the last page there was a photo of some little tins of "solid perfume" and a candle scattered on and around a hardcover copy of To An Idea. The fucking David Shapiro book! Isn't that weird? I wonder if he knows his book is being used as a prop in froofy organic soap catalogs? Do you need permission to use someone's book as a prop? Everyone go buy Pacifica products; they are lovers of pre-post-avant poetry.

More stuff from my writerly life:

• I have two newish poems in the latest issue of H_NGM_N. I haven't read the full issue yet but I'm going to, like, tonight. Lots of good poets.
  
• Rauan Klassnik interviewed Justin Marks about the po-po. By which I mean poetry. HINT!: He talks a little about Birds, LLC, a significant thing, to me.
  
• I'm reading Mrs. Bridge. I like it a lot. It has a very good first sentence: "Her first name was India--she was never able to get used to it."

Other than that ... did you know there's a thing called Snickers Salad? It's a simple salad, in most incarnations but three ingredients: apples, Cool Whip and Snickers. Some variations add other white goo, like vanilla pudding, marshmallow creme or mayonnaise.

Pretty fucked up, huh? Now why would anyone think to put those foodstuffs together in a single dish and serve it to unsuspecting gentlefolk? Because they wouldn't be unsuspecting. Apparently it's a staple at Midwestern potlucks; it belongs there right alongside the tater tot hotdish.

Last night we were googling for references to/images of this unnerving phenomenon and found a small-town community blogger from Wisconsin whose bio begins, "I'm an Ultra-Conservative Alpha Male." Who self-identifies with adjectives like that?! The Internet is hilarious.

We watched After Hours last night

And if After Hours is your favorite movie, you need to examine your life. This means you, Nathan Rabin.

Bronson Pinchot's conversational agenda

From an interview with Bronson Pinchot in A.V. Club; this section is re his role in Risky Business (emphases mine):

We thought Tom [Cruise] was the biggest bore on the face of the Earth. He had spent some formative time with Sean Penn—we were all very young at the time, Tom was 20, I was 23. Tom had picked up this knack of calling everyone by their character names, because that would probably make your performance better, and I don’t agree with that. I think that acting is acting, and the rest of the time, you should be you, but he called us all by our character names. He was tense and made constant, constant unrelated homophobic comments, like, “You want some ice cream, in case there are no gay people there?” I mean, his lingo was larded with the most… There was no basis for it. It was like, “It’s a nice day, I’m glad there are no gay people standing here.” Very, very strange.

Years and years later when people started to torment him with that, I used to think “God, that’s really fitting, because he tormented a lot of people as a 20-year-old.” He made such a big deal about it. Same thing with Eddie Murphy—I remember somebody calling and saying, “You’ll never guess who was just caught with a transvestite!” [Laughs.] And I remember thinking that seemed fitting, because there are certain people in showbiz who make it an agenda, every third sentence has to have something knocking that life choice, and you think, “What are you doing?” Like, these women came up to me in a restaurant—I was wearing a bright red shirt, and I was with some friends, and they said, “Would you like to join our club? We wear red.” What kind of choice is that? If you spent many years in the theater, and then you show up in movies, and people have on their to-do list for the day that they’re going to make a comment every third sentence, it strikes you as very strange. I just thought it was very funny that years later, that became his bugaboo. Which is a nice 1930s term I thought you’d enjoy.

AVC: Do you think he was just insecure? Or that he was young?

BP: I really don’t know. It is what it is; there’s nothing I can add to it. If someone’s 20 years old and every third line out of their mouth is anti-something specific, then draw your own conclusion. I thought it was very weird. Similarly, there’s a certain type of middle-aged woman that will tell you within 20 seconds of meeting you that she can’t find anyone to take her to bed. And that really strikes me as strange, too, like, “Why are you telling me that?” I don’t like any kind of conversational agenda; it makes me uncomfortable. I just think it’s weird. Unless you’re with your very best friends and you’re being silly. Then you can do whatever you want.

Is it me, or does Bronson Pinchot have a conversational agenda? He seems very suspiciously anti-agenda. He can't stop talking about it. It makes me uncomfortable. Draw your own conclusions.

Update: Also he uses the word "weird" 19 times.

Don't ever stay the same; keep changing

My second chapbook with Kathy Rooney, Don't ever stay the same; keep changing, is now available from Spooky Girlfriend Press!


It's only $5, and it's very lovely. Carrie Scanga is responsible for the lovely cover art, and Nate Logan is responsible for the rest of the loveliness. (Well, not the poems. We wrote those.)

As the cover suggests, it's a bit more wistful than Something Really Wonderful. We hope you like it. We hope Chuck Klosterman likes it too. We're going to send him a copy.

*
I think it's good to have a couple of blog templates (a la "I like So & So a lot") lying around for those times when you feel like blogging but the muse took a powder. Today at the gym I was trying to figure out which would make a better template: X Is Hilarious (as in "Twitter is hilarious" or "My friends are hilarious") or My Friends Are X (as in "My friends are hilarious" or "My friends are idiots").

The gym is an idiot. I watch cooking shows and then I want to recoup whatever calories I just burned in the form of animal flesh. I haven't eaten beef, pork or chicken (or whatever lesser game meats, geez) in almost five years, not counting trace amounts. I wonder what would happen if I just ate a whole burger? Could it kill me? Pictures of food are evil. They are far more appetizing than actual food. Strange, considering that actual food has olfaction on its side.

Absent 4

Issue 4 of Absent is live. It's an all-poetry issue featuring work by:

Dan Boehl * Karen Carcia * Darcie Dennigan * Jessica Fjeld * Andrea Henchey * Lauren Ireland * Matthew Klane * Reb Livingston * Marc McKee * Daniela Olszewska * Matt Shears * Kim Gek Lin Short

Irwin Chen is responsible for the awesome design; we recommend that you read the issue in Safari or the latest version of Firefox to experience its full beauty.

Enjoy the issue, and consider submitting for Absent 5.