Monday my back against the wall

[stilltrucking]

I had so many user names on litkicks one of them was Short Timer.
I got it from a novel by Gustav Hasford on which the movie Full Metal Jacket was based.

I had so many user names on litkicks one of them was Short Timer.
I got it from a novel by Gustav Hasford on which the movie Full Metal Jacket was based.

At the time I used it I was not thinking about the Vietnam War. I am certified mentally unfit for military service. No I was thinking about my age. I had just recently turned 60 and I was stunned to see a strange old man in the mirror one morning. I felt like I had so little time life in my three score and ten. So I was praying "St Peter don't call me" yet just give me five more years and I will surely write the great american hyptertex hyper trash novel.

Now ten years after litkicks I am happy I still got tonight. To sit and scribble on Studio Eight

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[stilltrucking]

When the real gone chicks are hip to your tricks
time to learn some new tricks

up on the high wire

[SadLuckDame]

I missed Monday, went out like a train,
here we are, still to type, but I don't have anything to get you talking again.

[stilltrucking]

Tuesday surfing around found this quote I like. I can relate

Deep down, I'm pretty superficial.
— Ava Gardner

Working on something for you later today I hope thanks

[SadLuckDame]

http://www.seraphicpress.com/archives/2 ... er_ref.php

I didn't mean to be harsh.

[stilltrucking]

Harsh? No dame I was just saying I been working on something for you.

Interesting link on Ava I surfed through it found this interesting link.

I like the comments
Women and body image: a man's perspective

Comments
He's gotta be able to open jars. That's non-negotiable. It's a plus if he can reach the top shelves.

Posted by: Texan99 at May 25, 2010 10:27 AM

All I know is, my boys can be up and out of the house to school in 30 minutes. That includes a shower.

Meanwhile, the parents of little girls are waking them up as much as 2 hours ahead of time, to be sure they have time to wash and dry their hair.

For little girls, getting out of the house is a big production involving careful scrutiny of their clothing choice and coiffure every morning before they go to school, much less church or someplace special. They spend more time learning to control their looks than on any other subject.

We don't need evolution to explain the difference in attitude about looks between contemporary heterosexual men and women.

Looks, Men, Women: Blah, Blah, Blah

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


No idea what I am working on but I found this link which kind of gives me a clue

David Markson - Nonlinear. Discontinuous. Collage-like. An assemblage. I do not see why exposition and description are a necessary part of a novel

David Markson, whose wry, elliptical novels probing the scattered mind of the artist and the unruly craft of making art were frequently called postmodern and experimental and almost always surprisingly engaging and underappreciated, died Friday in his Greenwich Village apartment. He was 82.

Mr. Markson’s books expressed, both mischievously and earnestly, the hem-and-haw self-consciousness of the perpetual thought-reviser. He wrote mostly monologues, or at least the narration seemed to emanate from a single voice, though the books were not necessarily narrated in the first person. (The writer at the focus of “This Is Not a Novel,” for instance, is called Writer.)

Mr. Markson did not much bother with character development or plot; nor, as his work evolved, did he care much for devices of organization like chapters, or even paragraphs. Rather, he built his books in nuggets and epigraphs, oddball observation by peculiar found fact, to portray the mind of the narrator, who was generally an artist in some state of mental distress.

Mr. Markson excavated the history of literature and art for eerily resonant and often amusing, petty or scandalous tidbits of biography and juxtaposed them with declarations about the narrator’s state of mind.

“Author has finally started to put his notes into manuscript form,” begins the novel “Vanishing Point” (2004), about a procrastinatory author known only as Author. Then there is a line break, followed by:

“A seascape by Henri Matisse was once hung upside down in the Museum of Modern Art in New York — and left that way for a month and a half.”

That was followed by another line break, another factoid (about the car crash that killed Albert Camus), then another line break, and so on.

Such was the form of many of Mr. Markson’s books. And though readers who crave narrative may have been put off by them, reviewers almost always found themselves succumbing to what many referred to as a cumulative, hypnotic effect. His admirers included Amy Hempel, Ann Beattie and David Foster Wallace, who referred to “Wittgenstein’s Mistress” — a monologue by a female painter, evidently mad, wandering the globe as the last surviving person on earth — as “pretty much the high point of experimental fiction in this country.”
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/08/arts/ ... n.html?hpw

The Last Novel

[jimboloco]

non lined paper is best too
the video of camranh airfarcebase
from an interesting point of view
it was a huge base on a peninsula
that sticks out away from the coast
and away from danger also
and for these guys, they never left the base
they were away from the flightline
they came home drunks and acidheads
our quarters were near the flightline
we came back home drunks and fuckups

[stilltrucking]

non lined paper is best too
the video of camranh airfarcebase
from an interesting point of view
it was a huge base on a peninsula
that sticks out away from the coast
and away from danger also
and for these guys, they never left the base
they were away from the flightline
they came home drunks and acidheads
our quarters were near the flightline
we came back home drunks and fuckups

You came home jimboloco, most of all
I am grateful for that.

I been looking at your reply for almost three days now trying to think of something to say that would be worth your reading.

Thanks for the reply jimboloco it means more to me than I have skill as a writer to express.

Sometimes it takes three to tango, me you and a woman.
Have you and the sad luck duck introduced yourselves to each other.

All the mistakes I have ever made with the tender gender, my most egregious errors from litkicks. She cuts me some slack because she enjoys fucking with my mind.

scraped up some dust out of my seeds and I got a small roach yet to smoke on a tuesday night.

write more later.
jt

__________________________________________________________

Later Monday August 16

His father tries to leave a bible with the nurse on duty in the intensive care unit. The nurse says hold onto it you will need it more than me. All the nurses are military because they took his son to BAMC, the best trauma unit in the country. God knows they are getting plenty of practice thanks to our constant warfare.

Looking at the kid laying there with the tubes running in and out of his body I try not to be pissed at him.
He was born for this. I notice how faded the tattos on his arm look

Flash back to interstate 10 West of Tucson.

I don't know how old she was. I am not good with estimating the age of children. Maybe eight or nine years old. The image that stays with me is of her laying in the middle of interstate 10 with a six inch shard of glass stuck in her right eye. I bent over and felt her neck to check for a pulse just like I knew what I was doing. I pulled my truck across the road to block both lanes as to protect the body. There were three or four others laying in the road too.

Clarity

I need more water.

Her neck so warm and still

So life goes go and the cars were working their way around my truck, weaving their way through the bodies like an obstacle course.


So easy to think so rationally when you are not in pain.
Listen to the women shriek
and tell me about it.