"Time travel is lonely..."--John Vanderslice

Because it's an effective writing warm-up but mostly because it's fun, I post six-word stories on Smith Magazine nearly each day. (As noted last year, I had a piece included in Smith's latest HarperCollins anthology, It All Changed in an Instant and read at the University Bookstore stop of their tour: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TV8VpKj50Ds)

Went to post this morning and discovered one of mine is Story of the Day again, which is always pleasing, only it's the one I wrote about last year's Oscars: "Will miss watching Oscars with him.":

http://www.smithmag.net/sixwords/story.php?did=103474

That held equally true last night, of course, but I'd spent the afternoon w/ two of my oldest and dearest friends and had run into a pair of my favorite colleagues and was putting a better face on things this year, because I can. I still hurt unremittingly but the shock has dissipated and I'm not shattered in the way I was at first. (I still hate the outcome and will hate it until I'm dead. But that's gotta be self-evident to anyone with a functioning brain stem.)

So it's strange how time has again folded in on itself, which it does all the time with grief and, also, if you're a writer.

So much for this year's half-dozen words on Aaron Sorkin.

And the laurel-resting continues:

One of my dear lefty colleagues recently chided me for being too hard on Greece and its ongoing economic debacle. I explained to him nearly each Greek-American I know had predicted the motherland's implosion and while creating the building blocks for contemporary democracy, math, theater and Western philosophy remains equally inspiring and astounding, toppling the EU is kind of a huge fucking deal.

Today, the latest from Forbes on Greece's new "I Won't Pay" movement:

http://www.forbes.com/feeds/ap/2011/02/22/general-eu-greece-i-won-apos-t-pay_8319311.html

Magic:

The Washington Square Hotel posted this photo on its Twitter feed today:

http://twitpic.com/42a0vu

Yes, I know New York winters permeate one's bone marrow and they're damned near impossible to navigate with a cane, but dear god, I remain entranced. (The last time I was in New York, it was 10 degrees F with wind chill, I had a 100 degree fever and needed the cane the entire trip and it was still completely fucking worth it. But did you expect me to reach any other conclusion?)

My new essay for Nerve, "A Foray into the Domestic Arts", is up now! Cookies, sex and the intersection of the two!

First off, thanks so much to everyone for your delightful birthday wishes yesterday. Imbibed the leftover cake from Kingfish this morning and am experiencing a sugar crash not unlike the opium madness Burroughs wrote of in Naked Lunch. ("I've got the fear!")

If we've known each other awhile, you know this is the fourth version of this essay that has run in the past ten years. And if we know each other well, you know the full story behind it, which is even funnier, though I'll omit select details here. Let's just say a certain someone used to repeatedly mention I left out the part how we'd already dated on-and-off before this story begins and that I'd broken up with him the previous time. I'd playfully retort, "Maybe you should write your own essay then."

When a longer version of this piece was published in the Seal Press anthology, Single State of the Union, alongside essays from Margaret Cho, Chelsea Handler and some fine writers who happen to be dear friends of mine, the latter group of us were asked to do readings at Elliott Bay Book Company, the University Bookstore and at Queen Anne Books. He attended the Queen Anne Books event with my folks, clapped louder than anyone, then Mom and Dad took us to dinner afterward.

Obviously, we did get back together again, but I never did bake cookies again:

http://www.nerve.com/love-sex/true-stories/grand-gestures-of-love-gone-wrong?page=4

Prompting nacho comsumption to fall drastically:

Hey, straight guys!

If you'd admit you're a wee curious about fucking each other, the NFL would become superfluous.

As would bar fights and any film in which Hugh Jackman transmogrifies.

Think it over and get back to me.

Happy Superbowl Sunday!

As usual, the inability to empathize has disheartening consequences:

Everything about this bill is revoltingly sexist, out-of-touch and cruel. I'm not a fan of Speaker Boehner (obviously) but I praised his eloquence when Congresswoman Giffords was shot. I don't foresee praising him again.

From New York Magazine, "New Bill Reportedly Proposes Restrictions on Federal Funding for Abortions":

http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2011/01/abortion.html

Contained: a radical redefining of rape and incest.

A thousand times no.

Egypt's brave writers risk imprisonment, torture and death:

Well-researched and detailed new piece on the pernicious forces battling Egyptian writers who are calling for democracy:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/41285248/ns/technology_and_science-tech_and_gadgets/

All power to them. And goddamnit, we are so lucky to live here.

The Nervous Breakdown Literary Experience, Seattle Edition #2!

The Nervous Breakdown Literary Experience, Seattle Edition #2 is Friday, April 8, 7 p.m. in the Jewelbox Theater at the Rendezvous!

Last time, the Stranger called us "a big goddamned deal"; KOMO4.com deemed us "the six best authors in town" (a wee hyperbolic but a lovely compliment nonetheless); and City Arts said we were "funny and sharp".

Best not fuck this one up.

The brilliant Jonathan Evison whose latest novel, West of Here, just received a starred review from Booklist and--hold on to your hat!--Vanity Fair christened "a booming, big-hearted epic" is on board and I'll reveal the rest soon.

Five bucks at the door. We had a sold-out house at the premiere in September--hope to see you on April 8!

Seriously, it's got the makings of a Discovery Channel documentary:

I'm fairly certain the emails in all three inboxes are now asexually reproducing. While it's objectively fascinating and, more importantly, the content contained therein is humbling, moving and gratifying, despite returning scads each day, I'm still not caught up. "After the Fire" has, in fact, caught fire and I'm really kind of speechless at the response it has engendered even if--and this goes without saying--I'd much rather write of him alive.

Again, if you haven't heard back from me--and I'm positive your life continues unabated in the meantime--you will very soon.

Happy Sunday, all.

My new Seattle Weekly feature is online and on stands now!

My new Seattle Weekly feature, "An Incomplete History of Clutch Douglass' Journey to the '80s" is out now:

http://www.seattleweekly.com/2011-01-19/music/an-incomplete-history-of-clutch-douglass-journey-back-to-the-80s/

Fun being funny again!

A brief catch-up while dinner is in the oven:

• The Nerve essay (see previous post) generated a volume of letters as large as it was unforeseen. Completely bittersweet, given the piece's topic, and deeply humbling that people have chosen to share their own stories of loss. Each missive deserves a thoughtful response and all three of my inboxes have been overflowing for the past 10 days. I'm nearly caught up, but if you haven't heard from me yet, you will soon.
• Re Dr. King's birthday on Monday, those who think we live in "post-racial" nation now that we have an African-American President should read the comments on any well-trafficked site whenever said President is mentioned. As one of my friends says, "The only people who think this is a 'post-racial' society are always white."
• I'm going to concentrate on the astoundingly good news Congresswoman Giffords stood up today and momentarily ignore the House repeal of health care reform, which the Senate, of course, has no intent to take up. The only thing the House GOP understands less than health care reform, apparently, is health.
  

My new essay for Nerve, "After the Fire", is up:

Hard to write; much harder not to. Deeply touched by the insightful comments:

http://www.nerve.com/love-sex/true-stories/true-stories-after-the-fire

Hard to know where to begin:

Since first watching CNN's "Breaking News" report yesterday while nestling with the puppy and returning emails, i.e. engaging in unremarkable Saturday morning behavior, I've been incredibly saddened and upset by the horror that unfolded in Tuscon.

I feel awful for the victims and for their loved ones. I send Congresswoman Giffords and each survivor prayers and healing thoughts and wish them recovery with minimum trauma and maximum resiliency. The families of the deceased will always bear the scars and I hope they are able to find as much peace as they can. Found out today Judge John Roll was a longtime friend of a family friend and if we gauge others by the company they keep, Roll was a very good man indeed. And while it's hardly without precedent, I still can't wrap my mind around someone shooting a nine year-old girl. Or the level of hate required to shoot Giffords point-blank in the head.

Much discussion has resulted about the increased political vitriol of recent years and whether the gun cross-hairs Sarah Palin placed on 20 "targeted" opponents, among them Giffords, was a contributing factor to the actions of the deranged Jared Loughner. I'm 43 and those my age who are politically active have frequently commented in recent times we have never seen this kind of hate in U.S. politics. We feared someone would get killed or severely wounded. (For the record, and this should be obvious, but I would be equally horrified had a Republican congressperson been shot. Our elected officials shouldn't have to risk their lives.) Loughner bears the ultimate responsibility but I do think Palin and those who engage in sustained and pernicious "targeting" of their political opponents shoulder some of the blame. A sane person could view Palin's cross-hairs all day everyday and be unmoved to shoot one of the listed. But it's kind of fucking obvious not everyone is sane. And when you have roughly two and a half million Facebook supporters, as does Palin, keeping such a graphic on your page is spectacularly unwise. Whether Loughner was influenced by it remains to be seen; even if he wasn't, well, so what? Said graphic accomplished nothing except the notion it's valiant to dehumanize your opponents. And if history teaches us anything, it's that it's easy to harm those you dehumanize.

Speaking of Facebook, one of its most disheartening elements is the way in which some almost reflexively lunge for the jugular in political discussions. I'm openly, unabashedly lefty on most issues but quite vocal when I think Republicans have a good point (for instance, I'm not a fan of Boehner's and have made several jokes at his expense, but he has handled this tragedy with leadership and compassion). I have Republican loved ones, each of whom is well-informed and carefully considers the issues. On the left, we frequently accuse the right of lockstep thinking and it's often an accurate portrayal, but there's a whole lotta group think on the left, too, and in some ways it's even sadder because we insist we're the intellectuals. I enjoy healthy debate and most of the discussions on my page are just that. But it's assinine how many times in the two plus years I've been on Facebook I've had to chide someone for writing on my page they want to kill Sarah Palin. As I noted three months ago during the '10 camgaign when a colleague said his hypothetical slogan would be, "Kill Dino Rossi", this is the kind of thing that (rightfully) outrages us when some dipshit posts it about President Obama in comment sections everywhere; we can't do the inverse but somehow think it's okay because we have a million reasons we loathe Rossi because the comment section dipshits feel the same about Obama. None of us should advocate killing our opponents. Period. Why isn't this self-evident?

The fact Loughner was turned away from the military but still able to legally purchase a gun will forever baffle me and all sentient beings. This wasn't a question of the Second Amendment but of common sense: if your mental health problems preclude you from carrying a weapon overseas, they preclude you from carrying one to a Safeway parking lot.

We can do better than this. We'll have to.

All thoughts and prayers to those whose lives were ruptured yesterday.

The world grows increasingly interconnected with each passing year and...

...this would be horrible news under any circumstances, but one of my best friends for the past 23 years just moved to London yesterday, so I find this particularly disturbing.

Wishing the Brits best of luck and very much hope this is a false alarm. In particular, I want my friend and his wife to be safe. And holy hell, what fucked up news to receive the first day in your new city:

http://www.cnn.com/2011/WORLD/europe/01/06/london.terrorist.attacks/index.html

And now, thanks, Huffington Post and once again, Smith Magazine!

Fun piece in which to be included and a rollicking good way to launch 2011:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/larry-smith/six-word-memoirs-new-year_b_803327.html?ref=fb&src=sp#s218347&title=Finish%20manuscript%3B%20click%20heels%3B%20drink%20heavily.

Thanks, KEXP!

KEXP interviewed a bunch of us re our 2011 resolutions. Fun being included with Ken Stringfellow, Matthew Caws, King County Executive, Dow Constantine and others whose work I admire and/or with whom I'm friends. Plus, an added bonus: my younger brother is actually impressed:

http://blog.kexp.org/blog/2010/12/30/seattle-music-scene%E2%80%99s-new-year%E2%80%99s-resolutions-pt-1/comment-page-1/#comment-389563

Special thanks to KEXP writer Jon Harthun for eliciting my answers.

May 2011 kiss all of us on the cheek. Best to you and yours!

Salut!

• To my loved ones and colleagues who helped assuage the searing grief to manageable levels, I remain forever and deeply grateful. I've written of this before but it's worth repeating: there's so much good in the world and I was surrounded by it and that made all the difference. The shock wore off months ago and the "new normal" everyone kept referring to continues to take shape. I incorporate his memory daily and will miss him 'til I'm dead, but in incremental ways, I'm getting the hang of the second half of my life.
  

• To everyone wise enough not to inject their religious or philosophical beliefs into another's grief. The most salient card I received read, "It's always too soon." Really, that's all anyone needs to say.
  

• I feel he helped look after me in the early months after his death. I realize some lose a partner or close loved one and experience their total absence. I'm not disputing their accounts; merely relaying mine. And I know I might be wrong.
  

• I worked with a particularly fine crop of editors and producers this year and will be working with each of them throughout 2011 and that's high-five and heel-click prompting.
  

• To the five conventionally married couples who like as well as love each other: nice job. Share tips with your friends; save the rest of us the headache of listening to another conversation delineating the ways in which marriage is not a porridge of rainbows and gold-leaf crumbles.

• I loved my rabbits boundlessly and when the last one died in May, my home started to resemble a catacomb. So it's been pretty fucking great that my puppy, Thomas, is every bit as sweet, smart, life-affirming and reflexively goofy as I'd hoped he'd be. Thomas Puppy!

• To each citizen and administration official who worked tirelessly to pass health care reform and to repeal DADT. So much left to accomplish, but this is a damned fine start. And I'm still glad I raised money and voted for President Obama.

• There is some good news in the offing I've shared with almost no one because I'd rather unveil it when the ink is dry. Still, it's pleasant having things to look forward to again.
  

• I am profoundly lucky my family, friends and colleagues are, in fact, my family, friends and colleagues. Much love now and forever.
  

[I know I wrote a few days ago that I wouldn't mention him in my year-end wrap-up because a set of grief-mongers apparently has little to do but search for his name here. Well, fuck 'em.]

Why the Jimmy Carter comparision makes no sense whatsoever:

As during the Carter years, there's a recession akin to a bloodbath; joblessness persists; house values keep plummeting and the nation's mood remains cranky as hell.

But to borrow Joe Biden's oft-quoted phrase, here's the huge fucking deal: Carter's one term held few historically notable successes. Obama's first two years contain a pair of gigantic victories: health care reform and the repeal of DADT. Also, the combat phase of the Iraq war is essentially over (not that we can breathe easy yet, but we're moving in the right direction).

No, Gitmo isn't closed and Obama hasn't devised a way to divide loaves and fishes or walk on water, but it'd be useful if my fellow compadres on the left took a sec, breathed deep and momentarily enjoyed what the administration has accomplished so far. The "to do" list still scrolls to the floor, but focusing on success builds momentum, which in turn leads to more success.

And for god's sake, media outlets, you must chill: no one is challenging him from the left in '12. With so many actual stories to cover, it's assinine to speculate where none exists.

Guy walking by absorbed by your Kindle...

...unless it contains Pakistan's nuclear codes and you've heard rumors President Asif Ali Zardari has an itchy trigger finger, you appear less intellectual, not more.

The smartest and most insightful response is usually to engage in the world surrounding you.

All thoughts and prayers for my friend and her family, please:

I'll heading out the door soon for Part #2 of the Christmas cacophony but my thoughts are with my good friend, whose sister died yesterday after a long bout with brain cancer. She died at home surrounded by her loved ones and for the past two weeks, each of them knew this would arrive any moment.

While her sister's suffering is over, there is a tragedy and, from where I sit, a meaningless to such deaths. Randomness is as brutal a force as the tsunami that killed hundreds of thousands of individuals on this day six years ago.

I'll be seeing my friend soon and we've been there for each other through previous bouts of unfettered awfulness, but everything about this passing is spectacularly unfair and I know whatever comfort I can provide is di minimis and the whole point of this holiday seems perverse and darkly ridiculous right now.