Of course, nothing compares to the upcoming June music issue:

The Believer is nominated for a National Magazine Award in the category of General Excellence. Yea!

Winners and Finalists

My family has been in a similar situation and...

...we've debated whether the Schiavo family is well-intentioned but misguided, or selfish and cruel. Andrew Leonard's interview with the Rev. John Paris, Professor of Bioethics at Boston College, offers an insightful look at a complex case. From today's Salon:

Salon.com News | "This has nothing to do with the sanctity of life"

By Andrew Leonard

March 22, 2005 | The decision on whether to allow Terri Schiavo to die has sparked endless controversy over what is legal and ethical when patients are unable to make their own wishes. One observer who brings both legal and moral authority to the debate is the Rev. John Paris, the Walsh Professor of Bioethics at Boston College.

Paris has served as an expert witness on numerous cases involving patients who were being kept alive by artificial means. He is equally capable of discussing the legal details of the Schiavo case and the Catholic Church's view of it. According to Paris, every relevant legal issue has already been decided; the only thing keeping the case alive is the fact that the Christian right has made Schiavo a cause célèbre.

Paris did not serve as an expert witness in the Schiavo case. However, when the case was reviewed by the Florida Supreme Court, he signed an amicus brief on behalf of Michael Schiavo, who wants to take his wife off life support. Salon spoke to Paris by phone on Monday morning. "This case," he says, "is bizarre."

>Why is the case bizarre?

In most cases, the court has a theory, you have an appellate review, and that's the end. But this case, the parents keep coming back with new issues -- every time that they lose, they come in with a new issue. We want to reexamine the case. We believe she's competent. We need new medical tests being done. We think she's been abused. We want child protective services to intervene. Finally, Judge George Greer denied them all. He said. "Look, we have had court-appointed neutral physicians examine this patient. You don't believe the findings of the doctors but the finding of the doctors have been accepted by the court as factual." There have been six reviews by the appellate court.

>What did the appellate court find?

The Florida Court of Appeals found four very interesting things. And it found them by the highest legal standard you can have -- clear and convincing evidence. The appellate court said that Judge Greer found clear and convincing evidence that Schiavo is in a well-diagnosed, persistent vegetative state, that there is no hope of her ever recovering consciousness, and that she had stated she would not ever want to be maintained this way. The court said we have heard the parents saying she didn't [say that], and we heard the husband say she did, and we believe the husband's statement is a correct statement of her position. The court also found that the husband was a caring, loving spouse whose actions were in Terri's best interests. The court said, "Remove the feeding tube," and the family protested. Of course, the family has the radical, antiabortion, right-to-life Christian right, with its apparently unlimited resources and political muscle, behind them.

>So what do you think this case is really about?

The power of the Christian right. This case has nothing to do with the legal issues involving a feeding tube. The feeding tube issue was definitively resolved by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1990 in Cruzan vs. Director. The United States Supreme Court ruled that competent patients have the right to decline any and all unwanted treatment, and unconscious patients have the same right, depending upon the evidentiary standard established by the state. And Florida law says that Terri Schiavo has more than met the standard in this state. So there is no legal issue.

>Are there any extenuating circumstances?

The law is clear, the medicine is clear, the ethics are clear. A presidential commission in 1983, appointed by Ronald Reagan, issued a very famous document called "Deciding to Forgo Life-Sustaining Treatment." It talked about the appropriate treatment for patients who are permanently unconscious. The commission said the only justification for continuing any treatment -- and they specifically talked about feeding tubes -- is either the slight hope that the patient might recover or the family's hope that the patient might recover. Terri Schiavo's legitimate family -- the guardian, the spouse -- has persuaded the court that she wouldn't want [intervention] and therefore it shouldn't happen. Now you have the brother and sister, the mother and father, saying that's all wrong. But they had their day in court, they had their weeks in court, they had their years in court!

>Isn't the underlying social issue here one that says the law doesn't have authority over this kind of life-or-death matter?

Let me give you a test that I've done 100 times to audiences. And I guarantee you can do the same thing. Go and find the first 12 people you meet and say to them, "If you were to suffer a cerebral aneurysm, and we were able to diagnose that with a PET-scan immediately, would you want to be put on a feeding tube, knowing that you can be sustained in this existence?" I have asked that question in medical audiences, legal audiences and audiences of judges. I'll bet I have put that question before several thousand people. How many people do you think have said they wanted to be maintained that way? Zero. Not one person. Now that tells you about where the moral sentiment of our community is.

>Where do you think this case is headed?

It's headed to federal court today. I cannot imagine what the federal question is. Congress said, "All we are doing is asking to have a federal court examine this." I don't know what they thought the courts were doing in the last eight years. They are saying, "We're asking a court to review this, to be certain that due process has not been violated." I don't think there is a case in the history of the United States that has been reviewed six times by an appellate court. Remember, the United States Supreme Court refused to review this.

>As a priest, how do you resolve questions in which the "sanctity of life" is involved?

The sanctity of life? This has nothing to do with the sanctity of life. The Roman Catholic Church has a consistent 400-year-old tradition that I'm sure you are familiar with. It says nobody is obliged to undergo extraordinary means to preserve life.

This is Holy Week, this is when the Catholic community is saying, "We understand that life is not an absolute good and death is not an absolute defeat." The whole story of Easter is about the triumph of eternal life over death. Catholics have never believed that biological life is an end in and of itself. We've been created as a gift from God and are ultimately destined to go back to God. And we've been destined in this life to be involved in relationships. And when the capacity for that life is exhausted, there is no obligation to make officious efforts to sustain it.

This is not new doctrine. Back in 1950, Gerald Kelly, the leading Catholic moral theologian at the time, wrote a marvelous article on the obligation to use artificial means to sustain life. He published it in Theological Studies, the leading Catholic journal. He wrote, "I'm often asked whether you have to use IV feeding to sustain somebody who is in a terminal coma." And he said, "Not only do I believe there is no obligation to do it, I believe that imposing those treatments on that class of patients is wrong. There is no benefit to the patient, there is great expense to the community, and there is enormous tension on the family."

>How do you square that with the pope's comments last year, which seemed to indicate that people in Schiavo's situation should be kept alive?

The bishops of Florida did it very nicely when they said, "There is a presumption to use nutritional fluid, unless the continued use of it would be burdensome to the patient." So it's not an absolute. That statement is a recognition that the Vatican is inhabited by the same cross section of people that inhabit the United States

>What do you mean?

I mean there are some radical right-to-lifers there, and they got that statement out. But it has to be seen in the context of the pope's 1980 declaration on euthanasia, and the pope's encyclical on death and dying, in which he repeats the long-standing tradition that I just gave you. His comment last year wasn't doctrinal statement, it wasn't encyclical, it wasn't a papal pronouncement. It was a speech at a meeting of right-to-lifers.

Again, this issue is not new. Every court, every jurisdiction that has heard it, agrees. So you'd think this issue would have ended. I thought it ended when we took it to the Supreme Court in 1990. But I hadn't anticipated the power of the Christian right. They elected him [George Bush]. And now he dances.

salon.com

Somewhere over the rainbow:

I came down with a massive case of hives on Saturday night. By Sunday morning, my arms and legs were covered in huge raspberry blotches that itched like hell. (Mercifully, my face and chest were spared. I still possess a certain je ne sais quoi, as long as I don't have to take off my coat.)

I explained to my pharmacist and to my doctor that I'm on deadline and that I'd rather be lucid and itch than be hive-free and stoned. I made it clear that I didn't want to ingest anything that would turn me into Judy Garland. Both pointed out, however, that my immune system is not exactly my best friend and that letting said hives go unchecked was a big mistake.

So, now the hives are almost gone but I'm high as a kite and readying a transcript for quote checks whilst trying to remain upright. I'm tempted to crawl into bed and remain there for the next three days, unencumbered by clothes or consciousness.

I won't, though. Here's why:

12/03/04:
KEXP 90.3 FM - where the music matters

10/23/03:
KEXP 90.3 FM - where the music matters

05/10/03:
KEXP 90.3 FM - where the music matters

Stacked Writer Girl in Vintage Clothing Porn:

I suppose this was inevitable: my Black Table piece, "The Leg Fuck", has been linked to a porn site featuring absurdly specific categories. What distinguishes "Black Amateurs" from "Black Porn"? Where's the guy who's about to clutch himself but tucks it away when he realizes, "Hey, these folks are getting paid!"? What, exactly, is the difference between "College Girls Porn" and "Spring Break Porn"? And what the fuck is "Balloon Porn"? Are they just making stuff up now?

Find out for yourself:

Crazy Shit happens Link dump sex movies blog funny news stories > > News > > STRANGEWAYS, HERE THEY COME: GIRLS HAVE SEX IN ODD PLACES.

If you don't like Dave Eggers you can go fuck yourself:

The Onion interviews D.E.:

The Onion A.V. Club | Feature

All you can do is bite down and breathe:

In "The Story of O", O allows herself to be tortured. Each time she's flogged, the pain is excruciating and she vows she'll never subject herself to it again. Afterward, she's peaceful and scalded and believes she's stronger. She allows herself to be tortured again.

In the last two weeks, Cranky accepted one of my short stories, Paste asked me to write reviews, The Believer offered me a lofty sum to interview one of my favorite writers, and the British literary journal, Spoiled Ink, asked me to submit. Two of my favorite authors emailed each other about my work and Cupcake gave me another shout out.

And at this moment, part of me would trade all of it to make the fever and chills and nausea go away. To borrow Dylan's line, I couldn't call it unexpected. I've had CFIDS for almost fourteen years and I know that this is what I incur with each piece that I write, with most physical efforts that I make.

When I'm not in the worst of it, I can be sanguine. No one gets everything they want, I tell myself. I'm lucky to be good at what I love to do. My health is impaired, but I have talent and people who love me. There are far worse illnesses. Overall, I lead a remarkable life.

Right now, though, I would give it all away to wake up without this endless flu, to walk without numbness or pain, to lie down because I want to and not because the beast has pinned me. To find that this monster to which I'm tethered has finally set me free.

I can't not write, though.

I'll allow myself to be tortured again.

They might start by allowing women to "trespass" behind the altar:

Salon.com News | Greek church proposes urgent reforms

"Hello grace/It's been awhile/Your footsteps didn't go unnoticed..."--Ken Stringfellow

To those who stuck around while I was inambulatory and to those who have revelled in my good fortune as is if it were their own, thank you with all I have. I'm grateful beyond measure. Much love, L.

Charles Bukowski's "So You Want to Be a Writer?" from *Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way*:

I don't agree with all of it--particularly the part about rewrites--but it's my favorite piece about writing and I return to it again and again:

so you want to be a writer?

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in
you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

I'm sort of speechless and have never been more flattered:

jt leroy recommends

Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!! In case you needed another reason to freak the hell out:

From today's New York Times:

"Two of the city's subway lines - the A and the C - have been crippled and may not return to normal capacity for three to five years after a fire Sunday afternoon in a Lower Manhattan transit control room that was started by a homeless person trying to keep warm, officials said yesterday.

The blaze, at the Chambers Street station used by the A and C lines, was described as doing the worst damage to subway infrastructure since the terrorist attack of Sept. 11, 2001. It gutted a locked room that is no larger than a kitchen but that contains some 600 relays, switches and circuits that transmit vital information about train locations."

More:

The New York Times > New York Region > Manhattan Subway Fire Cripples 2 Lines

Get out your hankies:

My Black Table piece, "The Leg Fuck", is here:

STRANGEWAYS, HERE THEY COME: GIRLS HAVE SEX IN ODD PLACES.

Don't worry, I won't start playing hacky-sack:

I'm a city girl and always have been. As Fran Lebowitz wrote, "To put it rather bluntly, I am not the type who wants to go back to the land--I am the type who wants to go back to the hotel." But some days I give into the gravitational pull outside my window. There's something about the bright ice blue of the sky today that just slays me. This last month has been a disaster health-wise, but I can't help but feel grateful for being here, ya know?

In purgatory, you meet Al Gore and Katie Couric:

My McSweeney's list, "The Five People You Meet in Hell", is up--yea! They gave me the front page again, which was a nice surprise. (If I knew how to hyperlink it, I would, but I don't so you're going to have to take my word for it.)

McSweeney's Internet Tendency: The Five People You Meet in Hell.

Crank it up:

I went to hear my friend, the delightfully talented Suzanne Stockman, read tonight at a celebration for the literary journal, Cranky. I knew that I'd enjoy her work and that she'd rock the mike--right on both counts--but I was skeptical when I heard that twenty readers were scheduled. Lit readings are sometimes transcendent, but often they feature the kind of self-important wankery Bukowski so brilliantly skewered in "Scum Grief". (Fave line: "Fuck the salmon!") So, I was pleasantly surprised that the Cranky line-up was so strong, with nary a northwest-let's-all-hug piece to be heard. Issue #4 is on the stands now and it's definitely worth grabbing. More:

Cranky Literary Journal

Unfettered heroism:

"TEHRAN, Iran (AP) -- Nobel peace laureate Shirin Ebadi told Iran's hard-line Revolutionary Court on Saturday she won't obey a vague summons on her to appear for questioning, even if it means she will be jailed -- an open challenge to a powerful body that has tried and convicted many pro-reform intellectuals."

More:
CNN.com - Nobel?winner refuses Iranian court - Jan 15, 2005

Just when you thought things couldn't get any more fucked up--ha, ha--they do:

Someone recently told me that ancient Greeks would say, "In the face of stupidity, even the gods rail in vain." I don't know if they really said it--if you're Greek, people tell you these things all the time, as if you're pre-loaded at birth with knowledge of all things Hellenic--but the sentiment expressed is certainly true. Behold, folks are using the tsunami to get laid:

WEEK IN CRAIG: THE ENDLESS CAVALCADE OF BIG BROWN STARS.

The icing:

I keep laughing--in a dark, sardonic way--that my writing goes places that I cannot. So, after another day wherein my legs were numb as fuck, it's a kick to discover that The Slippery Fish has been linked to Cupcake ("the reading series for New York's best women writers") alongside Margaret Cho and Jeanette Winterson and several others whose work I admire. (Scroll down, bottom right):

Cupcake: Because you've had enough chick lit, and it's time for dessert.

Today has been crappy but these made me laugh:

David Ng's "It's a Lucky Thing for Stem-Cell Research that the Following Passages Aren't in the Bible:
It's a Lucky Thing for Stem-Cell Research that the Following Passages Aren't in the Bible

John Moe's "I Was Not Invited Back to That School":
McSweeney's Internet Tendency: I Was Not Invited Back to That School.

Thanks: Part 1, Pete Townshend:

Sporadically throughout 2005, I'm going to write about artists who changed my life. I'll start with Pete Townshend.

In a recent Black Table piece, I described my adolescent self thusly: "...a teenage art-geek. Frizzy haired and studious, I hadn't yet learned to work a prodigious vocabulary and ample rack to my advantage." I had close friends, and for a brief while, a boyfriend, but I felt hopelessly out of place at the uber-prep Catholic high school that my folks insisted I attend.

At various points along the way I was class president and editor of the school paper and one of the leads in the annual musical (performed at The Intiman, natch) and a member of the honor society, but I mostly remember being bored out of my fucking mind. My friends and I were smarter than the teachers and it cast an air of absurdity over the proceedings. I wanted out so badly and I couldn't leave.

Enter Pete.

I was already well-versed in all things Beatles and Stones when said boyfriend gave me a tape of The Who's "Quadrophenia" one day at lunch. When I got home, I popped it in my fake Walkman, wrapped myself in my butterfly quilt and listened to both sides all the way through. I was transfixed. Suddenly, the world was a bit more light.

If I were writing this for publication and not for fun, I'd delve into the mechanics--to the degree that I understand them--of Pete's guitar wizardry, Roger's soaring vocals, John's throbbing bass, and Moonie's frenetic drum assault. But that's not why I'm writing this. What matters to me is that Pete felt like a friend, someone wiser and more scarred who got the joke. Twenty years later, the lyrics to "Cut My Hair" still make me crumble:

Cut My Hair

Why should I care
If I have to cut my hair?
I've got to move with the fashions
Or be outcast.
I know I should fight
But my old man he's really alright,
And I'm still living at home
Even though it won't last.

Zoot suit, white jacket with side vents
Five inches long.
I'm out on the street again
And I'm leaping along.
I'm dressed right for a beach fight,
But I just can't explain
Why that uncertain feeling is still
Here in my brain.

The kids at school
Have parents that seem so cool.
And though I don't want to hurt them
Mine want me their way.
I clean my room and my shoes
But my mother found a box of blues,
And there doesn't seem much hope
They'll let me stay.

Zoot suit, etc.

Why do I have to be different to them?
Just to earn the respect of a dance hall friend,
We have the same old row, again and again.
Why do I have to move with a crowd
Of kids that hardly notice I'm around,
I have to work myself to death just to fit in.

I'm coming down
Got home on the very first train from town.
My dad just left for work
He wasn't talking.
It's all a game,
'Cos inside I'm just the same,
My fried egg makes me sick
First thing in the morning.

More:
Welcome to Petetownshend.com

The Who's Albums & Lyrics