Jessica Glenn's MindBucks and Media

Artemis Rising (review by Brent Lightfoot)

2012-01-10T21:49:00.000-08:00

“Oh, what’s in a name?” Apparently everything, Romeo. In Cheri Lasota’s Artemis Rising, the protagonist is a young girl looking for love when, like with Romeo and Juliet, the question of love is not so simple; in fact, the heart-shape of destiny lives or dies on the pinprick of a name. What is the name of the protagonist? Well, that’s a tough one; the entire love story hinges on the answer. In Artemis Rising, the romantic contest for power is ideological, that is, it takes place between idea systems, between Christianity and paganism, between the omnipotent Truth and various subversive truths. The protagonist, a sympathetic character originally named Eva, is raised as a Catholic by her stringent father and as a disciple of the ancient Greek goddess, Artemis, by her mother. Should the Catholic path to love fail, Eva may actually be named Arethusa, the eponymous sea-nymph raped by the river-god Alpheus and saved by Artemis, or, if that violent strategy doesn’t work out either, Arethusa will be named Isolde the Fair of ‘Tristan and Isolde’ after the doomed damsel of a white knight’s affections, the lover torn from her love and fated for death hunched grieving over a lifeless corpse. Artemis Rising amounts to a hotly contested hermeneutic pitted on the equally hot grounds of love and melancholy.

Artemis Rising is a dark southern gothic set on the Azores, a generic transplant far away from its germinal American south. The novel formally expands beyond the regional limit of the Mason-Dixon line and Faulkner’s timeless bounded south. Artemis Rising may best be described as Flannery O’Connors Wise Blood taken to its furthest fantastical extreme, without ejecting it more disturbing qualities. (Incest, sexual aggression, pagan totemic ritualism: you name it, Artemis Rising’s probably got it.) Don’t be fooled by the island setting; the Azores factor very little into the story’s flux and flow. The novel suggests that the dialogue is jumping back and forth between English and Portuguese, but we only get to see the English with a peppering of ‘native’ Azorean, like mai and pai and obrigado (helpfully defined in an easily accessible glossary for the exclusive ebook formatting). Lasota never explains the ostensibly complex politics amongst Portugal, the Azores, or the United States, where the story opens and closes. And of the intriguing rituals that Lasota uses for scene settings, including bull-fights and ballroom dances, our knowledge about the cultural significance of such practices on the Azores remains the same from the Alpha to Omega of our reading, which is to say, nilch.

But cross-cultural education is not the point of Artemis Rising, nor does it ever claim to be. This is not historicized fiction, but historical fiction. What Lasota wants to do, and what she does very well, is to entertain her readers. Artemis Rising is truly a modern romance. The voices of Lasota’s characters, aristocrats and orphans both, sound like the people in our living rooms. More or less narrated as the protagonist’s stream of consciousness, Artemis Rising holds us
fast in the vortex(t) of an emotional consciousness. In mad throes of desperation, we see Arethusa/ Eva/ Isolde lose sight of what she was doing not just a moment before, and O God we cringe at the thought of her foolishness, her girlishness, we love her for it but oh how it hurts to watch sometimes!!! But it holds my attention fast, anticipating the narrative’s next turn with the touch of a hand or, if we are lucky, a kiss. It kept me reading, and it will probably keep you reading, too. Like a box of girl-scout cookies you just can’t put down, Lasota’s novel promises immediate gratification, without the calories. By Staff Writer, Brent Lightfoot

Skyjack: The Hunt for D.B. Cooper by Geoffrey Gray

2011-12-13T13:47:00.000-08:00

“I think of the Pulitzer Prize committee again. Are there acceptance speeches?”
In Skyjack: The Hunt for D.B. Cooper, Geoffrey Gray chronicles the investigation for D. B. Cooper, the lone criminal to have successfully hijacked a commercial airplane. In 1971, a white male flying under the name D. B. Cooper carried a bomb onto a commuter flight from Portland to Seattle. Immediately after liftoff, he took everyone on the plane hostage and demanded $200,000 in cash and a parachute. The plane touched down at SEA-TAC and the passengers were let off. The plane was refueled and took flight again, this time with money and parachute on board. Somewhere over the forests of southern Washington, the hijacker jumped from the plane with a duffel bag full of cash tucked between his knees. No one expected it. The police were caught on their heels. D. B. Cooper got away.
Four decades later, D. B. Cooper still has not been found. By way of a tip from a private investigator, Geoffrey Gray begins to investigate the unsolved mystery of D.B. Cooper. Gray becomes obsessed with the story. The writer-detective persists for two years. He drudges through the case-files, dwelling upon eye-witness testimony and police records. He researches all the prominent characters and contacts those still living. He becomes profoundly disturbed by the case, driving him to the brink of insanity. By this point the case has turned into a ghost hunt. No resolution is possible because there is no person at the center of it all. The open investigation of D.B. Cooper, like most old and unsolved criminal cases, by definition cannot close. But the narrating Gray does not see this. In the final scene, at the behest of a preferred suspect’s widow (or maybe it is just that she agreed to entertain his delusions?), Gray begins to investigate the origins of a hand-written recipe for cherry cheesecake that could have belonged to a stewardess on the flight that D.B. Cooper may have stolen out of pure habit because he might have been a kleptomaniac… The investigation extends ad nauseum and we can only be glad that Gray does not insist that we continue on with him for this narrative hijack of a story. (And that is not necessarily a bad thing - a narrative hijack can be heroic if successful, but most attempts fail.)
Skyjack does not represent the first try at telling the story of D.B. Cooper (though it may be the first novel). As a semi-historical fiction, the form of the novel well-reflects the nature of its subject. Like many of its predecessors, Skyjack posits D.B. Cooper as a folk hero akin to Jesse James, John D. Dillinger, and other popular anti-establishment American folk heroes. D.B. Cooper was not Robin Hood: jaded by a government who ignored him, corporations who manipulated him, and people who misunderstood him, D.B. Cooper figures as a self-interested and supremely independent Northwestern legend (apparently, it’s not just the rain that messes with your head in the NW).
At its best, the story impresses itself upon you and keeps the pages turning. At its worst, Skyjack becomes bogged down in cultural conjecture and garbled logic, offering such absurd suppositions as, for instance, when explaining the historical moment of Cooper’s hijack, Gray “reasons” that after Boeing lays off a large percentage of the Seattle workforce, all social order dissipates, cops are placed on unpaid leave, and “Dope is sold outside drive-in restaurants.” Wait, does Boeing sell drugs? Such instances beg the question: is Skyjack satirical? Is this just Gray’s ironic joke on himself and his own Pulitzer-crazed descent into the madness surrounding D.B. Cooper? I think so, authorial intent is often a laughable thing, and certainly the read was mildly entertaining, but I can’t get away from the fact that this book would have been a lot better on an airplane.

By Staff Writer, Brent Lightfoot

ArtclecticPDX: How did you first get published? Type Cast asks some terrific established NW authors

2011-12-07T19:21:00.000-08:00

Listen to Elissa Wald, Dale Bayse, Kevin Sampsell, Bart King and David Michael Slater explain how they first got publishing contracts whether it was through stripping, or sending out a zillion pitches....

ArtclecticPDX: Type Cast Interviews Jody Seay

2011-12-07T19:16:00.000-08:00

I have a new radio segment on KZME's ArtclecticPDX called, Type Cast. Type Cast features writers, readers, publishers, editors, book sellers and book buyers (among others) who are part of the cast of type-loving characters.

This episode features Jody Seay, who recently released Dead in A Ditch, Growing up in Texas and Other Near Death Experiences.

Accolades!

2011-11-15T17:00:00.000-08:00

Congrats to client, Deborah Reed for making it to the bestseller list TWICE in 2011. Once, for A Small Fortune and once for Carry Yourself Back to Me. She then upped this by making it to the top 100 books of 2011 with Carry Yourself Back to Me!

The Daughter's Walk

2011-06-15T19:50:00.000-07:00

"The Daughter's Walk" is a spectacular story, and a mundane one. Jane Kirkpatrick bucks literary tradition by beginning with what would seem to be a climax--the epic journey of two women--a mother and her daughter, setting out to walk across the country to save their home and family. Kirkpatrick suggest that life does not usually follow the standard novel plot, and thus, this novel should not, either. The beginning is somewhat typical. A lovely, old fashioned, coming of age story. Clara, the narrator, is a nineteen-year-old girl, infatuated by a local boy. She is wrested out of her home, however, by her stubborn, courageous, and indomitable mother. As they journey, they both gain strength, and a closer understanding of themselves and each other. The walk, however, is only the beginning of the story, and the novel quickly becomes more complicated and troubling.

The historical context is extraordinarily rich and varied. It is not overemphasized, however. The place is always secondary to the people. And the time, and cultural context is crucial to the novel, but it is gently assumed, never forced. Kirkpatrick doesn't force the reader into the world of the novel. Instead, she constructs it seamlessly around them. Her writing is flawlessly natural. Not to imply that this is a flawless novel. I believe it is a worthwhile one, though. It compelled.

The most striking thing about this story, and the characters is that Kirkpatrick refuses to sugar coat it. It is a fascinating story, but a painful one. I thought that was reassuring, in a way. Such is life. Kirkpatrick makes her readers look unflinchingly at a fictional world that mirrors reality very, very convincingly. The reader feels as lost and in the dark as Clara does. There doesn't seem to be a right choice, a wrong choice, or a happy ending. There is only growth, possibility, diminishment, and tragedy. And a few fleeting moments of joyous triumph.

- By Staff Writer, Sarah Hoffer

The Terror of Living by Urban Waite

2011-05-26T11:06:00.000-07:00

A drug deal goes bad resulting in a triad of chases. This in turn will involve a psychotic hit man as one of the central actors. Sound familiar? If it does, the question of why Urban Waite created a work so derivative of McCarthy’s “No Country For Old Men” will haunt the reader for the rest of the novel.

The novel in this case concerns Bobby Drake, a sheriff deputy who intercepts Phil hunt, a local drug runner picking up a large heroin shipment twenty miles from the Canadian border. An arrest and seizure of the heroin leaves Hunt on the run, Drake in pursuit, and the novel, along with its parallels to the above mentioned work, sets into motion.

Things do move along swiftly. The events trigger one another as the higher-ups in the drug trade move to remedy the initial mishap, much in the way No Country works. The primary villain is Grady, a psychotic prep cook and hired hit-man who’s fortunately quite skilled with his knives which he uses to slash his way through much of the novel. His presence is rather unremarkable however, more of a collection of bad-guy killer clichés than a figure the reader fears. When
Grady himself is pursued by some other killers (much as in the earlier novel) we root for Grady since we know nothing about the others. The net effect, though not enough to salvage Grady from his leering B-movie cheesiness, does flesh out an interesting matrix of reader sympathy, which glides from Hunt to Drake to Grady and back again. This mixes well with the conflicts throughout the narrative and marks the strong points of the novel.

In general the reading experience is a lively one. The bottom line, however, is the puzzle of why Waite created a story so similar to McCarthy’s. In the absence of an answer to justify this, one is better off reading the McCarthy novel.

~By Staff Writer Benjamin Boyce

The Chronology of Water by Lidia Yaknavitch

2011-05-24T13:46:00.001-07:00

Bodies, they say, are made up of water. Human bodies, I mean. In The Chronology of Water, Lidia Yuknavitch tells the story of her extraordinary life surprisingly naturally. She shies away from exploiting the huge shock potential of her experiences. Instead, she downplays them, leaving them slightly murky and only obliquely referenced. She plays with time, and water, and language. And she is fascinated by bodies. Bodies as sexual, bodies as expression. Love, and violence, and sorrow are all impressed upon the physical bodies of held within her pages. Although she explicitly writes about how water envelops her experiences, the sheer physicality of her writing suggests that her overt theme is not the most pervasive one. I think the best word to describe The Chronology of Water, cliche as it may sound, is compelling. I wouldn’t call it beautiful. It can be, at times, but Yuknavitch doesn’t mind being ugly, either. And although much tragedy occurs, she lets it flow in and out of the narrative, without dwelling on it. It is inspiring, perhaps. And realistic, certainly, although it is only one individual perspective on reality. But I would choose the word compelling because of the intimacy with which Yuknavitch writes. Her narrative comes close enough to matching my inner monologue that I have to listen. I might just learn something about myself.

~By Staff Writer, Sarah Hoffer

A Young Man’s Guide to Late Capitalism, by Peter Mountford

2011-05-13T10:43:00.000-07:00

Peter Mountford has written a novel which deals with a subject matter under-represented in fiction: the world of finance. This opens up a Pandora’s box of motifs, including segues into economic theory, the figure of an anti-hero who at times is thoroughly unlikable, and a curious fictional landscape where morality depends not just on who is speaking, but on who wants what.

The novel is a sort of Bildungsroman, charting the psychological and moral development of its young protagonist, Gabriel de Boya who finds employment with The Calloway Group, a shady hedge fund. Enticed by a colleague into the world of international finance and pressured by the successes of his peers, Gabriel takes an assignment in Bolivia, also his mother’s native country, to prove his worth to the hedge fund managers. The job entails operating undercover as a free-lance journalist, and this initial deceit sets off a web of lies which unfold as the story progresses. Gabriel finds himself quickly over his head in this new world as the boy toy of an older and jaded journalist for the Wall Street Journal, Gloria, and as he gropes about in search of the illusive insider information his employers are seeking to increase the funds dividends.

This search entails seeking out information about Bolivia’s president elect, Evo Morales, and the political leaders surrounding him. While he bumbles around the world of journalism, and Gloria, Gabriel finds himself hopelessly groping for information amongst more experienced journalists while striving to maintain a sense of competency to his hedge fund manager, Priya Singh in New York. The quest begins with the question of whether or not Morales will keep good on his campaign promises to nationalize Bolivia’s major industries, a question promising large profits for the hedge fund if known. From here he serendipitously meets Lenka, Morales’ press attaché, and begins dating her. A feeling of mutual distrust- but also attraction shapes the remaining story and leads to its denouement.

A narrative flashback reveals that Gabriel had studied in Bolivia while attending Brown University, and the younger protagonist notes that “The United States was actually a very bizarre place. Elsewhere in the world, the unattainability of great fame and fortune was more readily accepted, and so life was less driven by grandiose fantasies.” This observation arises out of the contrast between life in Bolivia and back home, and though it sparks a revelation in the young economics student, he soon finds a tentative justification to these fantasies in economic theory. Following the study abroad episode is a brief discussion involving the concept of utility, the economists working term for joy, which is maximized by the intake of money. This connection between utility, and hence joy, and money, becomes the philosophical foundation to the figure of Gabriel: “people want to be pleased, and they do not want to be displeased.”

These apparent digressions serve interesting aesthetic purposes. They illuminate the mind of our protagonist and also the not so fictional world he inhabits. They are also well timed. At a crucial moment in the story, Gabriel’s web of lies threatens to become unmanageable. He is on the brink of getting fired from the Calloway group for failing to produce anything of worth, his budding love affair with Lenka is in peril from cheating with Gloria, and he has lied about his true employer to his mother who has come to Bolivia to visit him. This moment is marked by a discussion on game theory and the prisoner’s dilemma, a schema meant to be prescriptive of how a rational agent should act. In a situation where two inmates are being interrogated and encouraged to rat the other out, a table can be drawn up as a sort of spread sheet of the pay offs or outcomes: if prisoner A rats out prisoner B, prisoner A will get off with a light sentence, but the catch is that if prisoner B also rats out prisoner A they both will get heavy sentences. Such lines of reasoning then become the blueprints for Gabriel’s paranoid induced calculations on what dangers he is facing if he gets fired, his mother finds out abut his real job or Lenka blows his cover which she might do if she finds out he has cheated on her, and so on- which serves to show not only Gabriel’s sticky situation, but the status of rationality itself in a world that is itself quite sticky.

The figure of Gabriel himself is interesting in that he manages to revolt and interest the reader at the same time. Gabriel is obnoxiously un-charming with his lady friends- he manages to turn every flirtatious episode into an awkward embarrassment, and by the narrator’s own admission, is attracted to women who are simply stronger than he is- since he is so completely emasculated and ineffectual this would seem indeed to be a requirement, if for nothing more than the alternative being hard to picture.
In almost every situation Gabriel fumbles- he is wimpy before the Bolivian machismo on display at lenka’s home on Christmas, he sees through the American dream on an intellectual level but caves into the desire to keep up with his ivy-league peers, he is so utterly lacking in virility his passion is expressed by his desire for money- which he finds, as a sin, greed, is simply a passion like gluttony or lust- but more pure- or in Gabriel’s case what amount to his version of purity- abstract.

In Mountford’s hands, however, Gabriel’s lack of appeal seems justified in light of the novel’s superb construction. Like Dostoyevsky’s Raskolnikov, Mountford’s Gabriel is more of a man of the idea, who in testing it, sacrifices his love life, possible jail time, and even his mother’s respect. The novel makes use of theoretical ideas in economics to create a richly satisfying portrait of post modern living and the whimsical nature of society and morality. Perhaps the ultimate achievement of this work is as an examination into the impossibility of reconciling the demands of those around us as loved ones, employers and family members, the illusory nature of human desire, and the inevitability of cold hard (quantifiable) cash in the absence of rationality.

~By Staff Writer, Benjamin Boyce

prismACTIVISM!

2011-05-07T11:11:00.000-07:00

Synthetic. Collaborative. and perhaps divisive. That's how I think I would describe prismACTIVISM!. At the opening Friday night, at Launchpad Gallery, I was struck by the artwork, but mostly, I was intrigued by the people. The opening night was also the CD release party for "Actually Happening, " from DMLH. And you could feel that this event was fueled by a whole lotta love and enthusiasm.

These artists were united in this collection by the songs on the album. Which is why there was a dizzying diversity of medias and styles. Sam Arneson's comic-book like ink drawing, "Stream of Consciousness," lodged itself firmly in my subconscious. Partly because of the imaginative, malicious character it represented, partly because it reminded me of someone I love. David Walker's work "Unfinished Businesses" was also cartoonish, yet sinister. In fact, the overarching theme was a mixture of the innocent and the corrupt. The artists played vice against innocence, nature against construct. And themes of death, toxins, and corrosion ran underneath.

DMLH, who is complicit in all these works, was previously unknown to me. I'm not quite sure how I feel about him. I wouldn't call him brilliant, yet. His lyrics have a stark sincerity--without ornamentation, sometimes mundane. And it's not super catchy, dancy, or driving. But intriguing. And his approach--blending visual and performance and oral and aural art--complicates matters just enough.

~ By Staff Writer, Sarah Hoffer

New Doings Around the MindBuck Media Blog

2011-05-07T11:09:00.000-07:00

Hi All,

For the next several months, I will be having some guest staff writers reviewing lit and the arts for MindBuck Media. I'm really looking forward to reading what they have to say. Suggestions for a newly released book or art show to review? Feel free to send them on to me at mindbuck@ymail.com

xoxo

~J

Literary goings on...

2010-10-04T12:56:00.000-07:00

Happy Fall!

It's book release season, for sure. Viva Las Vegas has a new release coming out at the end of October, 2010, "The Gospel According to Viva Las Vegas." Viva will be doing several panels at Wordstock, as well as hosting the Text Ball on Friday, October 8th.

David Michael Slater's highly anticipated 3rd book in the 5-book Sacred Books series, "Book of Maps", will be released December 5th. Despite threats, no book banners will stop his fans from reading their favorite YA series.

Deborah Reed (pseudonym, Audrey Braun) will be releasing the first of 3 books with Amazons publisher, Encore, starting this spring.

Portland photographer, Cheyenne Glasgow, just landed the cover of Stephen King's new UK release! See pic...

MindBuck Media friend, Peter Mountford, will have his first novel published with Houghton Mifflin Harcourt in the spring of 2011.

New email address!

2009-11-06T08:55:00.001-08:00

mindbuck@gmail.com is no more.... It is now mindbuck@ymail.com

Thanks, all

D'Merde Salon at The Woods!

2009-10-22T14:15:00.000-07:00

Hello All-
D'Merde Salon is moving to The Woods for a gathering on October 29th, 2009 at 8pm. Here's the release:

UNDERGROUND SECRET SOCIETY, D'MERDE SALON IS BACK. Now at The Woods!

UNDERGROUND SECRET SOCIETY, D'MERDE SALON, MOVES TO 'THE WOODS' FOR OCTOBER 29th EVENT

Portland, Ore. – September 21^th, 2009 – While best known as the secret absinthe party where you could meet rock stars, mingle with film directors or get publishing deals; D'Merde Salon has a new space. After finally growing out of the tiny garage in which it resided for a year, D'Merde is moving to Portland's newest popular venue: The Woods, for a flagship event October 29th, 2009.

"I couldn't have found a more perfect home for D'Merde," says creator and host, Jessica Glenn. "The otherworldly, funeral home atmosphere is the kind of secret society meets clubhouse vibe that's essential for D'Merde Salon's mix of geniuses, patrons and absinthe whacks."

As with previous D'Merde Salons, guests will be treated to a mix of mediums including four bands, a one night only art show with notable Portland artists, readings from celebrity writers, and the crazy feeling that no one will ever believe who you ended up talking to last night...

Sponsored by KZME, this evening's participants are some of Portland's most eccentric, flamboyant artists: Death by Doll (with Dame Darcy), The MoonShriners (with members from LSD&D, Slack, Peter Pants and The Freight train Casanovas), Judson Claiborne (from Chicago), and local shoe-gazers, Josh and Charlotte. Painters include Miss Mona Superhero, Private Mike Albano (of Chariots of Rubber), Dame Darcy and more. Readings by Monica Drake (author of Clown Girl as well as the intro to Chuck Palahniuk's new release), Jessica Glenn (of MindBuck Media), Viva Las Vegas (from new release, Magic Gardens) and Dame Darcy (of Gasoline, Meatcake and more).

Boys, Books and Bildungsroman

2009-05-15T11:13:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, there was a really interesting article in the NY Forward that featured, SELFLESS, the new book by my client, David Slater.

Here's an excerpt:

"It turned out that getting ready for the birth of my elder daughter I’d missed the furor surrounding Ian McEwan article to which Shteyngart’s comment referred. In it McEwan had concluded “when women stop reading, the novel will be dead.” His conclusion was based on a mishmash of statistics and anecdotes (most notably his inability to give away excellent free books to men in central London). But the reductive truth of it seems based on the notion that stories are for girls and facts are for boys.

I find terribly sad the idea that people would not want to read roughly in accordance to their ability. Reading is how we learn to imagine others — not the outcomes of the plot, but how characters, events and language flow around each other: how other people exist. Novels expose you to new people, worlds and aspects of worlds. Reading a good novel though is not about its internal facts, but their apprehension and representation by the author: If you read “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man” for Catholic theology or Irish history, you are missing the point."

Check it out!

Updates

2009-02-25T08:51:00.000-08:00

So many interesting things going on, yet so hard to go to all of them! I just got married... (yea!)
So that has taken a bit of time out of the old schedule. But other than that, I have a fab new book I'm promoting: SELFLESS, by David Slater and I'm planning on going to see LSD&D at O'Malley's on Foster this Saturday.

See you there!

D'Merde Salon: Models in Vintage Swim wear and Beehives Hairdos Parade Through Crowds of Fiendish Geniuses, Consuming Absinthe. See ya!

2008-06-24T15:59:00.000-07:00

To the brilliant underground loves of our life,

June 27th will be the 7th D'MERDE SALON

And artists, writers, musicians, designers, patrons and You are invited...

Friday June 27
7PM SHARP to 11PM
6310 SE Steele St. PDX 97206
Food, Beer, Wine, Absinthe, Entertainment, Music, Free Love
$10 - $15 Suggested Donation at the door

Please RSVP to either myspace events(events/myspace.com) or dmerdesalon@gmail.com
Peace, Love and Kisses

Jessica Buck:503.998.8770 - mindbuck@gmail.com
and
Trina Giese - dmerdesalon@gmail.com

Local Designer Pamela of Popina hosts vintage inspired fashion show www.popinaswimwear.com

The Underscore Orkestra

Kate's Mirror

The Absinthe Assassin makes a return appearance

Readers/Writers include: Tiffany Stoneman, Viva Las Vegas, Lovely Urchin and Mykle Hansen
Painters include below list but we may have a few surprises:

Tyler Spencer of Pirate Satelite TV: http://www.myspace.com/spyler
Anna Todaro: -http://www.ohdivine.com/
Heidielise Wirz - http://www.myspace.com/ovenfirestudio
Theo Holdt: http://www.myspace.com/theodoreholdt
Victor Fitzsimons -http://www.victorfitzsimons.net./
Lisa Albinger (who made the lovely graphic!)- www.lisaalbinger.com
Christopher Sage of 'Behold Her': http://www.myspace.com/beholdherpdx
Troy John - http://photomanipulator.com/
Mike Albano - http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=5975292
Ilon Laks of audio cinema - www.audiocinema.org
Mario - http://www.myspace.com/marsr3

At the May 16th D'Merde we had the pleasure of hosting
107 people including:
34 artists,
23 writers,
12 designers,
24 musicians,
6 film companies,
5 publishing companies
and
57 lovers!

dmerdesalon.com

Peace, Love and Kisses.

Jessica Buck:503.998.8770 - mindbuck@gmail.com

Trina Giese - dmerdesalon@gmail.com

Please RSVP to either myspace events, or: dmerdesalon@gmail.com

The 6th D'Merde Party Notes

2008-05-19T13:06:00.000-07:00

The 6th D'Merde was really amazing. I now have a monster and electric bunny mural of the front of the salon and it is incredible.

Halfway through the readings we decided to move up to the salon roof because it was so hot. Mykle read his piece (really good, really funny) from a rooftop wading pool.

The absinthe girl was awesome, and though there never seems to be enough for anyone, the bloody weapons were a great touch.

The final readings were outside on the patio; Viva's piece about Miss Mona Superhero was terrific. The Underscore Orkestra played two sets. As an aside, Go See This Band if you haven't yet. Geeze. They are really the heart and soul of D'Merde. And I like being dipped when I dance... ;)

All in all there were about 100 people who attended.

Most people left at 11:30 (the good lil boys and girls) but a few stayed on and started blasting Iron Maiden while improvising a sort of idol worship of a random sculpture they found in the salon.

Next D'Merde: Absinthe, Assassins and Artists Mix it up in a Cracker Box

2008-05-09T10:37:00.000-07:00

Portland, Ore. – May 16^th, 2008 – Why would Portland's most talented and creative painters, writers, sculptors and musicians go to a cracker box garage in the Foster neighborhood, knowing that they are expressly forbidden from actually selling anything?

Because Friday is the 6^th D'Merde Salon.

A beautiful assassin serving absinthe, readings from legendary socialite and writer Viva Las Vegas, art from the inimitable Miss Mona Superhero, and live mural painting by Mayorga and Holdt will be among the 20 plus presenters on May 16^th between 7:00p.m.-11:30pm. The events are strictly capitalism free, and there are no sales, only donations.

The previous salon in April boasted 8 publishing company reps, 9 film company reps, 8 illustrators, 23 writers, 34 artists, 19 musicians, 10 designers, and a film crew.
Reps have been actively recruiting Portland's most creative minds in what is quickly becoming a low pressure treasure trove of top notch material. The synergy created by absinthe, fire and these wild and high spirited parties have spawned multimedia projects, new events, and most importantly, have made the exchange of ideas exciting again.

For additional information on the D'merde phenomena, contact Jessica Buck or Trina Giese at dmerdesalon@gmail.com or view website at dmerdesalon.com.

Literary Promotion and Development

2008-03-25T08:25:00.001-07:00

Hey Writers- Do you have a finished manuscript but you're not sure what to do next? MindBuck Media can help! MindBuck Media provides promotion and development for your book project.

The breaking news is that MindBuck Media has now teamed up with
The Mighty Pen, LLC
our favorite editing company on this side of the pond. The Mighty Pen edits independently or in conjunction with MindBuck Media in manuscript development.
Check it out:
The Mighty Pen

D'Merde Salon! February 22

2008-02-10T22:57:00.000-08:00

7:30 - 11:30 Friday, February 22, 2008

6310 SE Steele St. 97206

Beer, Wine, Non-Alcoholic Drinks and Food 5 - 15 bucks (sliding scale donation)

Home to the Portland Underground Art Revolution

(Where it's Always Buy-Nothing-Day) Artists, Writers and Musicians Welcome As are their Patrons. Music, Art, Love and Words provided on arrival

Hello, my Dear, Darling PDX Creatives, The fourth D'Merde Salon promises to be incredible, thanks to an amazing group of artists, writers, thinkers and doers in our midst. Definitely check out our new site (dmerdesalon.com)to get sneak peeks. The site shows past and future work, artist bios and has more info on D'Merde Salon culture. I hope to see you!

Like last time, there will also be other writers, artists, composers, musicians, publishers, booking agents, gallery owners and film companies. You are invited and encouraged to bring friends and good people. Feel free to repost this, too.

Please RSVP to either myspace events, keyword D'Merde, or my email: mindbuck@gmail.com

Love and kisses, Jessica Buck PS. If you know you are presenting, please email me and confirm. Even if you already have. ;)

By artists, of artists and for artists and their patrons, D'Merde Salon is truly the

'Warmest Place in the Underground'

Reflectionalism: Life in the Pre-Apocalypse

2008-01-29T21:20:00.000-08:00

So if you live in PDX, and you're generally a compassionate person, and you have some interest in art, politics and/or environmentalism and you look around your world with some curiosity, you may notice that it looks strangely like what my new friend, James Squeaky, calls, "Life in the Pre-apocalypse".

I think I've hammered the whole idea of Reflectionalism as a moral concept enough now (sorry if it was a lil' repetitious, dears), but the next important idea in Reflectionalism is futility.

While I, personally, can choose to be a Kuntry Kowgirl one day, a Lipstick Lesbian the next, and an Emo Emu the day after that, my options in identity are limited by my own (and a universal) sense of futility. Am I anything?

As Post-Modernism is a movement of the watched, we march towards an imaginary place where everything is revealed, stripping off layer after layer after meaningless layer. Self-revelations simply become secrets tried on for size and examined for usefulness in creating yet another temporal identity.

Here's what the Reflectionalists have discovered: it is not only impossible, but completely manipulative and self-serving to write, paint, and create in general what you present as your authentic self. All that happens is another toy soldier gets propped up in the parade of books of the month, those little self-made angels and devils swaying uneasily to familiar ching ching music.

How do we take risks with our hearts and our fury in the pre-apocalypse?

We change the stakes of fiction.

We make our best attempts at truth in sculpture, lit, painting, film and more because there's not enough time left to ignore our shifting and dishonesty. We know that we will never be able to be truly honest. All narrative is fiction, by acknowledging this, and the futility of expressing anything genuine, we are our own watchers.

Reflectionalism expresses the fact that there is no way to be honest in a representation of one's self. We are all too blinded by fear, weakness, capitalism, cowardliness, spite, greed, cruelty, and stupidity.

In an age where humans have changed the balance of nature to point of killing thousands of species completely, in a time where the use of torture is considered an effective strategy, in a place where we are completely removed from the horrors we ourselves are perpetuating, all of our art is in some way a confession of both our pain and our culpability.

Post-Modernism: A Moral Crisis

2008-01-05T11:19:00.000-08:00

Wow, in my efforts not to write too long of a post the other day, I left about half a thought in the below entry.

In my last entry, there's an OK mini-explanation of modernism, post-modernism and a definition I disagree with for Post-post-modernism. I included these explanations because it is important to see how each stage is a result of a Moral crisis when these movements are followed to their logical conclusions.

This isn't to say the individual writers and artists were/are morally flawed because of art coming out of Modernism, the modernists had unbelievably beautiful goals - Truth! Rationality! Ideal Beauty! What seductive aims, hard to resist for anyone. However, unlike before the 1920's and 1930's, many of us (correctly) associate those terms now with horrific atrocities like genocides and holocausts (a natural progression of modernist ideals). The 'perfect' truth is an essentially flawed concept.

I certainly had a major love affair with modernism in my mid-20's, but after discovering its fatal (literally) flaws, I threw myself into post-modernism with a vengeance. I actually think I left a decade long marriage for my wanna be post-modernist ideals.

It was with a great sense of mission and adventure that I decided to try and live as if no one thing had greater value than another thing. The beauty inherent in fracture was at least as alluring as modernism to me (maybe more so because it's so edgy and twisted thinking like this). It's also a fairly interesting way to examine one's faults...

Much of post-modernism has actually been accepted in some capacity. Biologically, mentally, interactively, and certainly in the area of communications, there is no arguing that fracture exists in nature. We are absolutely not the same people we were when we born. Not the same in our brains, our bodies, our souls or our connections with the outside world.

There's a terrifying problem here, however, with all these fractures we are supposed to somehow learn to accept within the post-modern movement.

Have you guessed?

If everything has the same intrinsic value, what the fuck is the Moral path? Truly, that is the question for our time.

In an earlier post, I mentioned that I think it is impossible for a moral artist not to be influenced by the actions of our society, our government, our environment and our general atmospheric soup.

I am seeing the next movement form in front of me - a response to the moral problems of post-modernism. Here it is now alive in PDX, alive the the nation: Reflectionalism.

Art is dead. Long live art.

Holy Shit. Was it just Post-Post-Modernism, under my nose, the whole time??

2008-01-03T10:25:00.000-08:00

My dear friends, such a crazy thing has happened. Another absolute breakthrough in regards to my examination of the PDX art scene. I think the breakthrough was hovering and waiting for me between the time I wrote about the nature of goodness in No Country for Old Men and read Heather Reddy's blog about selectively spying on herself.

While I blogged about Heather's piece, I didn't really, completely get why it engaged me so much. I felt the connections growing, but it wasn't until reading her piece aloud to maybe the fourth (Heather, you should be blushing by now) person, that I had a complete Eureka! moment.

Hmm... to be honest, the person I was reading it to said p-p-m first, but I felt my own strong eureka in any case...

If you have not been following along in the argument/theoretical extrapolation I'm having with myself and whoever I meet for coffee, here's the gist: I believe that PDX is in the midst of the next important artistic movement and I'm trying to identify similar themes in our work that reflect a common problem we are examining. In addition, I am looking for reflections in our art of our political, physical, moral, capitalistic and ethical environment.

Basically, what does this 'soup of the now' do for/to art and what are we trying to do in this soup?

Here's a lil' blurb from Identity Woman: indentitywoman.net. Not what I believe, per se, but pretty easy to consume.

"Modernism has its origins in the enlightenment, ‘rationalism’, absolute structure and finding ‘the truth’.

Post-Modernism is a critique to modernism. In this structure, there are no laws maintained to define hierarchical culture. Post-modernism that asserts that there no hierarchies and that all points of view are equally valid.

Today you have the emergence of Post-Post-modernism It rejects the “flat” - everything is equal point of view of of post-modernism but not super structured rationalism like Modernism. You might call it a Polyarchy.

Shit. This blog is becoming too long. I'm gonna stop here.

Let's leave it with this: I strongly disagree with her definition of Post-Post-Modernism...
XOXO
JB

You're Invited!

2008-01-02T17:52:00.000-08:00

D'Merde Salon,

Home to the Portland Underground Art Revolution Artists, Writers and Musicians Welcome As are their Patrons.7:30 - 11:30 Friday, January 11, 2008 6310 SE Steele St. 97206 Beer, Wine, Non-Alcoholic Drinks and Food 5 - 10 bucks (sliding scale donation) Music, Art, Love and Words provided on arrival (Hello my Portland Sweethearts of Art, The third D’Merde Salon is quickly approaching! Thanks to everyone who made the last salon such a synergistic blast, and I am quite enthusiastic to hear more stories about new projects that have resulted. I hope to see you! There will also be writers, artists, composers, musicians, publishers, booking agents, and gallery owners attending. You are invited and encouraged to bring friends and good people.

We’re at pretty close to capacity for presented work, but could use some quiet or acoustic musicians/groups for one or two short 3-song sets. We can also possibly squeeze in 1 or 2 more readers. You are welcome to contact me with submissions (including writing, music, hanging art, paintings, photos, sculpture, performance art, etc) and if it’s too full this time, we can try and get you in the next Salon.

Sorry to repeat myself for some, but if you have already arranged to play, read, hang etc, please do still drop me an email confirmation. Organization is maybe my point, but not my strong point. Please RSVP to either myspace (on links), or my email: mindbuck@gmail.com Peace and Love and XOXO, Jessica Buck)

Another Sicko Artist (heart)

2007-12-31T09:28:00.000-08:00

Christopher Sage did something rather incredible - he made me raise my eyebrows in a slight gesture of... not shock exactly, but something.

Though he won some awards for his film, Remnants (which I want to see but can't figure out how), he decided to drop film and start on a few books. Note the implication of multiple simultaneous projects. Already grounds for suspicion.

The two pre-release copies of the books I read are seriously disturbing journeys. One is the morbid photo journal of a sadistic photographer who finds he starts to like the bodies of his nude models as they become increasingly mascochistic, insecure and self-damaged. Lot of pics of *Scar Tissue Plus*. Thad be like *Topless Plus* (which always seemed a misnomer to me), not like extra skin... The book intends to challenge misogyny and the stereotypical male idea of beauty.

The other is presented as a found object - a journal by a kid brother in high school. Cute huh? Except the whole journal is a lead up to the kid slicing his head off as a campaign speech for student body president. Lotsa blood.

Damn, kid. What's next? Christopher Sage is tentatively releasing both books Valentine's Day, 2008.

Heather Reddy Says Interesting Things About Telling The Truth

2007-12-27T17:18:00.000-08:00

I got back from Pix on Division the other night and realized that I did not eat cake. Hello. I must be insane- now I regret it! I do not regret, however, meeting Heather Reddy in the flesh.

I've seen her around in the internet ether, hosting interesting writerly events and posting crafty post-modern blogs. (oh, do check out her blog if you have the chance, sorrytobesoheavy.com) At the moment, she's using Okie kids babbling gospel in aramaic as a supporting point. How can you resist?

On the subject of our PDX movement, Heather made me think of a ton of different ideas. We talked at length about how one of the apparent PDX 2007/8 themes is fictional non-fiction and non-fictional fiction.

Why?

I really believe we are playing with the idea of authenticity and the impossibility of self-truth. Here's a snippet from a recentish post called "i spy on myself selectively"

"it’s strange, post freud or whatever, how little we trust our consciousness. that’s why, i guess, i have so many gigs of gmail, why i track my listening habits. there’s also this culture of covert surveillance being the best way to know about something. espionage is the new hard science. witness: all the damn overheard blogs, the popularity in metro areas of “missed connection” and “i saw you” ads. it’s like the nsa has taught us how to court each other (admit to cutesy stalking…?).

...so when you call me a liar, i know it doesn’t apply to this specifically, but i search for ways to pin it to myself in general, because freud makes me sure i don’t know myself and i’m pretty sure that even if i knew myself i wouldn’t be truthful with myself about myself: that is, i wouldn’t know that i knew myself, if that makes any sense. i guess it’s the nature of accusations: you either accept them or don’t understand them and which option you choose relates only distantly to whether they’re “true.” the worst is when you kind of do both and neither. maybe what i see in myself isn’t so much “lying” as “distrust,” and “distrust” is actually just a sincere emotion with which i happen to be uncomfortable." - (sorrytobesoheavy.com, Heather Reddy)

I seriously find this to be one of the most hilarious and insightful pieces I have read in Months.

Too many people have written either overly flattering things or overly horrible things in self-writing/memoir as of late, and James Frey is only the whipping boy for an entire industry of self-proclaimed angels and devils.

Spying on ones self creates in a sense a fictionalized character allowing the writer to treat the subject with a more realistic amount of love and disdain.

Charity Heller Hogge and How to Finish a Novel

2007-12-25T22:20:00.000-08:00

Charity Heller Hogge runs the editing company, The Mighty Pen. The Mighty Pen specializes in book editing and takes on new projects by contract. She is also the editor for the publishing company, Subatomic, which I have previously mentioned as a publishing company to keep an eye on.

Charity came over to my pad the other night to chill and chat. While also bringing me a yummy bottle of wine, she also brought me stories of her adventures as a single mom in writing and publishing. We discussed what to do with manuscripts that are nearly complete which then lose their way into the impotent wind of an errant muse.

If you are a novelist, you will very much understand the gravity of this problem. What to do? We covered several ideas. Here are some of them:

- Find an obvious plot from a similar genre and figure out how it was solved.
- Read for style, and map an author's sentences for inspiration.
- Reread your entire work, adding to the middle as you go.
- Wait to be depressed, then take advantage of the afterglow (my favorite).

Remember: don't talk about plot until it is impossible that you won't finish. It has to come out somewhere, your mouth is not the best place.

Sculpter and Gallery Owner Of Whom I want to Keep track.

2007-12-20T14:36:00.000-08:00

Stephanie Doughtery is involved with OM Traditional Arts studio that hosts Last Friday art shows. A few weeks ago, the incredibly successful 30/30/30 show was held there showcasing 30 artists' painting 30 paintings in 30 days.

We met at Grendel coffee shop on Burnside, a few blocks from OM. We talked about thematic ideas for future shows. Stephanie is particularly interested in mixed media pieces, and I think her description of a glass fountain was one of the most evocative art pieces I have yet to see, this week.

At the moment, she has been using the lost wax method of casting to make bronze casts of local succulent plants.

I'd love a pic of the show if someone has any suggestions..

XOXO -JB

Groovy Girls after the Rapture

2007-12-18T19:44:00.001-08:00

So I finished a rough draft of my newest book, "The Glamorous Life of a Writer". It is by far my most accessible work in a certain way, as it is a seriously simple story (though told in disturbing, hopeful and absurd one-sided emails).

I'm working with Cheyenne Glasgow to do the other half of the project, which is another story paralleling the first, but told in images.

I went over to Cheyenne's house yesterday to try and work out some of our graphic ideas. Originally, I was inspired to try this double story after seeing the groovy doll pictured above.

The doll's name is 'Dirty' (named by Cheyenne's five-year-old twins). Cheyenne came home and found the doll in this state, stuffed into a bottle.

"Dirty got captured". Said her son. What to say?

I decided I wanted to get a pic of the doll in electrical tape, too, but also with black thread marionette strings that would hang from my own fingers. The strings looked cool, but I have to say her son's tape job was better than mine. (a little over kill on my part)

For the shoot, Cheyenne and I wanted to use the Holga camera which is this amazing old camera that looks like a reverse periscope. Cheyenne built a right-angled parallelepiped (3d rectangle), out of cardboard that fits over the top lens of the Holga. She then used her digital power shot to take digital pics through the viewfinder of Holga. They look like the below entry.

The problem is that it is unbelievably difficult to get a clear shot because there isn't a real focus function, everything just has to stay very, very still... Good thing the doll is restrained... My fingers however, were less obedient.

Cheyenne is incredibly good at making these shots work, but I'm still figuring out what would actually work. There are a lot of variables to making these as cool as the one below.

What I LOVE about this style is that it looks like old fashioned spy photos. I don't think I'm going to exclusively use these images, though. She has other images that I think would fit well, but Cheyenne has the final word - and I like her aesthetic.

Fun to figure out as a problem in any case. Also fun to play baby dolls with my friends for a couple of hours...

Digital through Holga

2007-12-18T19:34:00.001-08:00

The Nature of Goodness in 'No Country For Old Men'

2007-12-15T09:22:00.000-08:00

I went to see No Country for Old Men yesterday with Steve Libby of Subatomic Press. Generally, I don't go to movies in the theater, but Steve and I decided that if we talked scripts, and went at noon, it would all be, uh, tax deductible…

The day started kind of weirdly to begin with because I've been writing my ass off on my new book of letters (not my novel, a different project). And I got a fucking rough draft (!). Which makes it my fifth book, weirdly enough. Anyway, writing 50 or so pages in a couple of days make one feel completely otherworldly. Or, it makes ME feel completely otherworldly. Who knows about the rest of the world?

In this state, I have awkward conversations with people starting with things like, "Over the course of my life, I always wanted to be Jesus, but I think I'm growing out of it." In response to questions like, "What do you want on your toast?"

Awkward. Really awkward. Like anyone wants to hear anything that starts: “Over the course of my life…”

Then you can't take it back and the words and words and words starts swirling and spiraling and shit - there's a whole hidden chapter you never saw before but have to WRITE DOWN NOW THIS VERY SECOND about spreading Jesus on toast.

Wow. Professionally digressing again.

I wanted to see No Country for Old Men because:
a. It’s a Coen Brothers movie, and
b. I heard it was sickeningly violent.

Not sure why that was such an enticing line, but damn, it was!

I had to get myself all sort of bolstered up to be able to stand the carnage and expected to be shivering to myself, and holding my own hand.

The theater was packed. On a fucking Friday at noon? A lot of people must geek out on violence, thought I.

No Country For Old Men was a terrific flick. I'm debating what to say in particular, because I don't mean this to be a spoiler, but the film had a POV switch that actually sort of challenged me. I had to really think about why it was used and since I haven't read the book, had to guess whether or not it was a Coen invention (I think not). Hmm. Enough on that, hard to continue w/o plot giveaways.

The more striking debate for me in the film, was the ongoing question of the morality of 'right'. This is the point of this blog if you managed to get this far... Now ya know!

As per my last blog entry, I'm seeking to find clues of our political environment in the contemporary art around us. Yes, mostly in my PDX happy-land, but I'm cool with thinking national for a few minutes.

The discussion of what was 'right' popped up over and over in the film. All of our protagonists (there were several) were morally twisted by their insecurity about what choice was the 'morally right' choice.

The utter lack of ‘good’ options (i.e. where the outcome of the situation was completely positive) made them feel like moral failures. The anguish of moral ambiguity was expressed with astounding grace.

This distinctly contrasted with the views of the utterly creepy villain with the 70’s porn star hair, who steadfastly maintained his 'goodness'. His 'goodness' lay in the purity of his purpose and word. If he said he was going to kill someone, he'd kill them. Don’t matter none hoss, if the killing was no longer necessary, or if the killing wouldn't benefit him financially, or even if the killing put him in actual danger. It was a contractual obligation that translated for him into a moral obligation.

I realize that this book was written a while ago, but I maintain that the effect of the presence of our ever-unique atmospheric soup, i.e. media, pop culture, politics, environment, and war, brought this film into being. It's not like the Coen’s couldn't have chosen or written another story, fer crying out loud.

The film could have been about a villain who was simply draconian, but the insistence of his moral superiority over the course of the two hours, was probably the absolutely best fucking metaphor I have ever heard about our administration’s stance on, well, everything.

I continued this conversation with Todd Cobb (author of Ghosts of Portland). When did ‘good’ start meaning this? How have we as a country been sidetracked into an argument about moral superiority based on a platform of psychotic inflexibility?

The beautiful and encouraging aspect of this film was the gentle reminder (yes, gentle, if you can believe it), that good people always question their own motives in difficult situations. They always wonder if they could have made a different choice. They always wonder if they could have made a better choice. Good people do not believe in the impunity of their goodness.

XOXO

- JB

Movement

2007-12-11T18:59:00.001-08:00

So, I've been thinking. It's one job to schedule and plan D'Merde Salon, but I'm not sure I should let its actual purpose go unnoticed and unexamined.

I've said this more generally, but I believe there is a very singular movement occurring in PDX as a response to hedonistic 'eco'-culture, deadly war culture and sickening consumer culture.

Wrap all of that around a fabulously creative nouveau atmosphere of tech savy individuals who all just discovered that they speak a brand new language in common, ie. CMC, and there is really no denying the potential if not the actuality.

I talked about this with Shannon Mayorga yesterday morning (actually, totally babbled at him because it was sickeningly early, like 9:15).

Happily, he babbled at me as well, or at least, that was my perception which made me feel better. I still feel his babble was much much more cohesive than mine, but as my job is to raise impossible questions, I win, whatever.

Wow. I'm tanGential! That should be one of the status options on myspace and facebook. I'm feeling like, totally tangential. Maybe a subject for a tattoo?

But I digress, professionally.

The real question: If there is a movement going on in Portland linking art, music, and writing, what is the soul crunching mutual problem that we are all approaching from our individual viewpoints?

When I try and pin down this same question with regards to the beat poets or the Parisian salons I am influenced by, it seems to be a matter of Form, rather than content that they struggled against.

Am I wrong?

To require a movement in which it takes the bravery of a group of individuals to suggest a new path, the path must be pretty fucking scary, indeed. Otherwise, someone would have already nailed it and gotten on the Oprah book club list with a lil' discussion section at the end (nod to DSB).

Shannon and I seemed to identify more questions than answers, but that's a very good thing for me as I tend to think I absolutely 100% figure out a problem (with huge and complex significance) the first time I consider it. Wrong. Don't worry, I know. Thus more questions.

So what about this: What IF this is a movement of content (I will get to what kind of content later) AND of form? In this movement however, the form isn't the format of the pieces and images and MS's as it has been in the past, but instead of the altered manners of communication we have all recently developed and are now playing with - just as freely as the early modernists played with representation.

There were no pioneers. There were no rules.

Not sure if this is understandable (or if it should be! Without the vagaries of language here, I seriously risk excluding an important voice or ten).

In our post-modern era, where it seems every medium has been tried, I am gratified to see projects like the bands that are collaborating over the internet, all over the globe, track by track to create an album. This is absolutely and completely different than anything that has ever happened before. The poster (on myspace) created for the last D'Merde was a two day collaboration between two people on opposite coasts. Absolutely impossible before now.

Also, the effects of this sort of communication (I believe) are also influencing all my local dear hearts, as well. Not just the world at large.

That's theme number one.

Theme number two is content.

What the FUCK is happening these days in the world? I'm as happy to meet you at Stumptown and drink an 8 oz Chai and chat about promoting your band as anyone, but do you think Anyone out there can really be unaffected by the fact that our government actively supports, and finds new territory for torturing human beings?

That we are finding oil rich countries and planting shit on them (like one of those lame cops, sticking you with a bag of weed), except we fucking Kill hundreds and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds (I could continue for quite a well since the number is really thousands and thousands but, yaknow....)

We are an observant city in our own overly white and classist manner. My dear brother and sister creatives, I don't think most of you are murderously fucked up assholes.

In which case, necessarily, you are disturbed on some level and this Must be showing in your work.

Thanks to Cheyenne Glasgow for indulging this line of reasoning this evening and giving me a little focus.

What I see emerging, are pieces of scathing self-study. Horrified by the emotional narcissist escapism of a pseudo-medical industry that has perfected the granting of mental indolgences without the confession (think early Catholicism), but terrified by a complete lack of self examination allowing untold horrors to be visited upon our global neighbors, we are carefully, humorously, sickeningly, jubilantly (!) identifying our faults.

And thus, our humanity.

2007-12-11T13:43:00.001-08:00

I went to Dark Horse Comics the other day for a chat and tour. It's sort of easy to forget that cute lil' business in Milwaukie is actually the largest cartoon company in the country owed by an individual. (As opposed to Marvel and DC, the two larger co.s which are owned by other companies or conglomerates or something like that)

Not sure why I have such a hard time connecting Dark Horse with their big projects, but I think I sort of re-remembered that Dark Horse was the origin for "The Mask", "Hellboy", that new film "My name is Bruce" plus iconic comics Sin City, Predator, the continuation of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer", and "Star Wars". Phhewww. That's a lotta shit.

And that list doesn't close to touch the variety Dark Horse turns out. They do about a million other comics, graphic novels (which isn't much of a surprise), and also a few books of an incredibly eclectic nature. Not sure I got the gist of the book press: Narrative history? In partnership with cartoons, sounds like a bitch of a marketing pitch. (Imma poet. I know it.)

Speaking of marketing, I was really interested that I don't see much evidence of Dark Horse using interactive or buzz strategies in their marketing. It's not exactly like that's impossibly weird, but it's occurred to me lately that if there are three echelons of business (this is simplistic but bear with me) small businesses (who are ready to put it out on the line and are thus creating some of the most original campaigns around), big businesses (who have the money to follow all the little campaigns and copy cool looking shit even if it doesn't work), and mid-level businesses who used to kind of run things in the 90's when it came to branding and marketing, but now seem sort of hesitant.

Dunno. It's just that Dark Horse is such a ringer for an interactive campaign with all their die hard fans.

I'll keep ya updated...

Anyone wanna go on tour??

2007-12-06T14:15:00.000-08:00

I met with the absolutely adorable Amanda K. (of Good Egg Productions) last night at the Delta Cafe to talk about Music promotion and booking bands. I've been around in the PDX music scene for a while (and thus, typically, think I know everything about it) but most PDX bands stick around town or go on a one stop tour.

Amanda's originally from Oklahoma, and works with a diverse spectrum of bands from Jazz to Experimental to Pop and from the East Coast to the South to the West.

We talked about why it is that shows are packed in small towns and large towns but PDX often has a low turn out. Her shows around the rest of the west coast are packed! We agreed PDX is over-saturated. Sucks to live around so many rock stars... ;)

Here's her myspace: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=73835882

Sub-Atomic rocks my world

2007-12-06T14:03:00.000-08:00

Yay Steve Libbey and Charity! These two have started an independent Portland press with a couple of titles already up for grabs - notably, BloodBaths, which just came out in November. We all got together to talk publishing and synergy and eat Middle Eastern food. Yum, all around.

They have some interesting titles coming out over the next few months, and auspicious plans for their release. This is definitely a press to keep an eye on. They are both super talented. FYI in webland - they are publishing (and accepting) national manuscripts, not exclusively local.

Blogspot STILL hates my guts sooooo here's another unlinked link: http://www.subatomicbooks.com/

Busy Busy...

2007-12-06T13:43:00.000-08:00

I've a lot to catch up on! OK - As for some of the other D'Merde Salon highlights, O'Grady played an amazing experimental set with noise, vocals and readings from Mike Daily's book, Alarm. Really affecting, really beautiful. Enticing noise created by loop tracks and soda cans (among other splendid audio concoctions). Girls Girls Girls. I always wanted to work in a factory, too! Also, here I am wearing the cute shirt - Buy it!

I would put the fucking link to his site here, but blogspot clearly hates my guts. Here it is unconnected: mickogrady.blogspot.com

D'Merde Post Mordum

2007-11-25T15:22:00.000-08:00

(A Painting By Jason Moreno, picture here)

It ended up being absolutely exactly what I hoped it would be. So many people contacted me the next day with new project ideas, mixed media project ideas, collaborative project ideas.

The artists were terrific, Cheyenne Glasgow (photographer) had a photo/sculpture piece, photos mounted on a cabinet. It had Cheyenne's distinctive look of a slightly melancholy dreaminess mixed with an odd forced practically that makes me question my own views of what being pragmatic actually means.

I had only seen Shannon Mayorga's paintings online before the other night by even on the blinky little screen, his lush use of color and striking sort of controlled looseness is absolutely lovely. Kind of edible or something. The piece that he brought was actually a print but looked so much like a painting - I need to learn more about this.

Jason Moreno is another artist I had only seen online, as well. (Damn I was so incredibly lucky, considering). His paintings are intricately odd fantasies. Some maybe nightmares. (my favorite) There's a frantic quality of meta-think, a brain whirring with uninvited images. Jason brought four painted metal masks to D'Merde that he hung in a criscross of wire on the wall. The masks were reminiscent of both the Day of the Dead as well as Balinese masks I've seen (the mouths, in particular).

I'll write more about the readers/performers later, they highly deserve their own blog.

XO

Gigs n' Rockstars

2007-11-19T23:09:00.000-08:00

Fuck. I haven't gone out and seen a show in I can't remember how long. I mean, I see music, but music in my living room, or at a party, or... how to differentiate - Quiet music. Yeah, I see that.

Maybe I was somewhat ruined by working at a punk club for too long. It was all so fun until I stopped living in that bourbon soaked hole. And after that, I had no inclination to return for any reason.

In any case, that is sort of circuitous background info to a 'what the fuck I did last night" blog.

I've been writing for this company, Writers of the Round Table, for a while but had never met any of the project managers in person. It's all telecommuting and shit.

So the woman I work with most often (Eva) is married to the drummer in the Zappa plays Zappa band (Joe Travers). She flew into Portland to meet him while he was on tour and she and I got a chance to meet Eva in person. What a kind and collected seeming soul! I was quite touched by her sweetness.

God, I'm rambling. This was supposed to be about rockstars. OK Rockstars. Eva got me tickets to the show and backstage passes. I forgot how much I love that shit.

For a nosy person such as myself it is pure bliss to be able to walk where you want sans security.

The group of guys (and one girl) in the band and their techs were very down to earth.

We all went to a strip club after the show.

The end.

Rain, man.

2007-11-18T10:33:00.001-08:00

Waking up with an incurable desire for donuts, I talked Myles (my 8 year old son) into walking to the store (in the rain) and getting some. Wow.

After he came back he told me that he planned not to be outside for longer than 90 seconds the rest of the day. "The amount of time," he explained "To get into a car."

Sweet child. My daughter, Zane and I snuggled in bed reading fantasy adventure books. Eragon, Anyone?

I used to fucking Hate that shit, but it's way more fun to read with a kid. All those dwarfs and dragons and all...

Though, I must confess to strongly hoping she doesn't become one of those d&d teens. "yes, dear, of Course all your friends can come over and role play... Just make sure Xdathern doesn't have another accident tangling his cloak and sword..."

Yeah.

Before that, she told me that she likes to read books that are sad - either where the beloved dog dies in the end or where children or other sympathetic characters endure horrible situations.

Now that's something I can get behind. My kind of book!

Myles basically reads manuals.

And Fuck! In Rolling Stone last month, there was this totally freaky story about how climate change has been underestimated by even the most pessimistic. He said that of the 6.5 billion people on the earth, 6 billion of them will die in the next 80 years.

I googled Alaska and found this Canadian Bear-Man Real Estate agent.

10 acres, I said. Above sea level.

He didn't seem to think it was weird. In any case, to buy 10 acres in a nice location with lots of moose, in Alaska (with nothing on it, obviously)is about a thousand dollars an acre.

Or, 2k and $50 a month. i.e. Less than cable.

Today on the front page, a similar prediction (though less dire), was the top story.

Preparations for D'Merde

2007-11-17T11:00:00.000-08:00

I'm so totally gaga over the brilliant abilities of my fellow creatives in this dark and rainy city. Anything with light! Wild red paintings and glowing torch pretty much get me off.

Someone asked me if D'Merde Salon was some kind of coffeehouse.

Fuck, no!

It's a wood stove smoldering fiercely at another furiously elated soul, toasting me with absinthe, with a thousand charcoal scrawls, with absurd desperation mixed in equal parts with lawlessness and beatitude.

My enormous platonic crush on about 500 souls has gotten stronger.

Oh, I do love you!