House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Awesome. Okay more than awesome. But this book is so big that your mind will need time to settle into it. I recommend reading Mark Z Danielewski several times, not because his books are confusing; but because there is so much to get the first time; most people will not get it the first time. I plan to re-read this book, which I rarely do. I had found this book from a fellow participant in my writing class. I had read one of my dreams to the class. The dream involved a corridor where there was infinite space and an innumerable amount of doors, and false paths. I record my most vivid dreams. Once I was finished a girl in the class asked, "Have you read Danielewski." Like a bloodhound my head turned suddenly and i was like "Huh, what?" She replied "Danielewski the author of House of Leaves." Your dream is just like Danelski." Then I had her spell the name out for me so that I could find a copy. I found a copy and began reading immediately. My dream was similar to this statement in the book, " everyone else sees a series of lefts eventually leads them to the apparently endless corridor which again to the left offers entrance into the huge space where..." The book was great. One aspect that Danielewski does expertly is getting details correct: The train in Tucson. Yes the tracks run right down the street. I am lead to believe that I have been at the bar he talks about, but it was morning, and the light of the night was extinguished. So totally different viewpoint but the bathroom was clean and the place looked fun. I remember a large grand piano on a small black box stage. There were curtains pulled. The whole effect was elegance, just like this book. I did not have the time to stay there, but I wish I had. He also describes a southwest sunset with the right splashes,"Reds finally marrying blues. Soon night will enfold us." I love the word enfold.
 His books are also beautiful and are worth having a hard copy of.   I even made a new folder on Good Reads, because of the look of his books: Books Worth Owning a Hard Copy Of".   Now, I know most of his books are paper bond but I would collect any book that is as beautiful as Mark's books, including Only Revolutions, (The Familiar, #1), and of course House of Leaves. .  He has given reason to buy books from a bookstore, and not just download copies.   I plan to buy his books as soon as I am able, as money right now is tight.  


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Man I love yacht rock, nothing better to set the mood for a romantic night than a little glen fry, billy ocean, or anything written by Diane Warren. Man the temperature is hot. And I am glad that I belong to the city, I belong to the night, living in a river of darkness beneath the neon lights, you were born in the city, concrete under my feet. Man I am tough...

Hypnos by H.P. Lovecraft


This book is a great example of how Lovecraft was the master of horror from the far realms. He gets us so close yet safely away from the evil we know is there but we can not find. He reveals the tapestry that our paranoid minds explain is there, and our sain neighbor says, "No it is not there."
Lovecraft, with Hitchcock were masters in great use of tension and conflict that scares one silly.


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Cult Movies on the Make

I have watched this movie three times and still want to see it.  This is rare for me.  But this movie is awesomely ridiculous with a heart.   Not since  Spicolli in fast Times at Ridgemont High have I been so enamored with a character.  But in Moonwalkers it is more than one character. The big question: Did we or did we not land on the moon? And does it even matter?  For an answer watch Moonwalkers...

The Road Goes on Forever and the Party Never Ends.

The Well of Lost Plots by Jasper Fforde

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Funny and good for the laundry and other house chores. I enjoyed. I had a difficult time getting into the first two now I will begin the series from the start. Interesting enough I have read books from Wales and Scotland this year, now I need to read a book from England. Then onto Ireland.



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Na Po Wri Mo- Pastiche: Library Thing-first lines

 First Lines In First Lines in My Most Recently Entered Library Thing Entries.

There were five bedrooms.
The night that Lyndon came,
The witches were waiting.
 "the fatal flaw," that showy dark crack
  I told you last night
 "Bring your bathing suit"

I cheated death.
 It was there when I woke up
I first discovered I was trash…
 After the long quiet of the grave,
 After an unequivocal experience…
It is graduation day at Annapolis
There was a razorstorm coming in.


The cow-speckled landscape is an ashy grey color.
A steady drizzle fell from a gunmetal-grey sky 
With a single drop of ink for a mirror
 It began as a mistake.



I used Library Thing to help me create a poem utilizing the first line of a number of stories.  Then Juxtaposing those lines in a picture of something different.  Thank you to all the others I used. You can find them on Gregorio Roth's books library thing.  I did not want to take away from the poem by distracting the author who would have to continually look down the page to see who the author or book the quote came from.  I have not edited any of the lines. I just put them in a new order.

NaPoWriMo #15 Couplets

Sir Richard Quince's Footfall
      
Why go to the theartre?
                       ye utter.
Why not a movie?
or even T.V.?
 There once was a prince
named Sir Richard Quince.
His belly was like a pear
it hung over his chair;
his farts were acid,
and his penis flaccid.
But each night he performed
recasting, rewriting, re-formed.
The script he could not memorize,
as his brain was small and unwise.
But he held his spot,
and gave it a good shot.
Until one night during curtain call,
he lost his footing, his downfall.
As the lights fluttered
we could hear him utter;
         "Oh Shit"
          "I quite."
    


Note:  I am the Sir Richard Quince in this story, at least partly.  In college I could not memorize lines so I would ad lib as I went.  Then one night the exit of the stage was not well lit.  The director wanted me to exit only I missed the steps, and fell into the air uttering "oh, shit."
Why is Sir Richard Quince described as he is?
A quince is a noun:   aromatic acid-tasting pear-shaped fruit used in preserves.  So that is why I described him pear shaped and his farts acidic.  I am not sure why I used the word Flacid, just adding to the humor.   

Atomic Chains: NaPOWRIMO 14

O, I ate a Pig's Eyeball?!

A San San to My dream Last Night:

Snow accumulated along the tracks
life after chaos echoed
Nuclear winter buses.
Snow relocations of our packs,
life after chaos bellowed.
We huddled at our leisure's 
Nuclear winter musses,
we huddled to escape zephyrs.

Book Review: Chuck Klosterman - Killing Yourself to Live 85% Of a True Story

Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story by Chuck Klosterman

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Chuck Klosterman is a voice of my generation. He was born a little before me, and because of this his voice (at times annoying) gives reason to some of my abstract thoughts. This book is a road trip with Klosterman to find why rock and roll died? Or a quest to see how did certain members of the rock and roll community die? What makes rock and roll alive? And how does rock and roll relate to our lives? And how are relationships affected by music? 

His catch-phrase "well anyway.", did get annoying at times. It was good not great.



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NaPoWriMo Day 8

Alas no picture of a Lily in Bloom

Nuns Blush In Spring Gardens

Camera lens captured dew
on Lily's pistil,
florid ready to screw,
with superior skill.
Nuns blush in spring gardens.

Pistil's honey dew drips.
Bees suck onto pollen; 
onto swollen red lips.
Petals lay crestfallen.
Nuns blush in spring gardens.

 Petals perspire, suns rays
make the convent grounds
wet, hot, vapid, ablaze;
dew drips down filaments.
Nuns blush in spring gardens.

Poem influenced by the pictures of Robert Mapplethorpe 







 

Role of the Poet:

April is poetry month here in the United States.

When one mentions poetry, the response from others is a collective fear.

However, I believe the role of the poet is to reawaken the sense ordinary things, the hum drum, the things we trip over when we are on auto pilot.  Poets reconnect us to the things we have become blinded to.  Therefore, all poetry should be understood by all adults.  (Sorry kids but some poems are not understood by you yet, because you need experience to understand the feeling.)

So poetry should be so dull that everyone gets it? No! Poems should be flexible and understood at a variety of levels.  When I say all adults, I mean the poem at a concrete level should be understood by all adults.   If a professorsesque snobs writes poetry to look intelligent and fails entrance to the poem at a concrete level, they should not be writing poetry.  These snits are jerks who think that they are proven smarter when others feel dumb.  They are not cool at all.

An example of a great poem is  William Carlos Williams the Red Wheel Barrow:

so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens

This poem could be just a simple portrait of a farmhouse with chickens and tools.  Most adults know what a red wheel barrow is, have seen morning dew, and have experienced white chickens,  But the fun part is trying to figure out why white chickens, and why red wheel barrow.    And it does not matter which level of meaning you gleam from the poem, if it creates a picture, or emotes a feeling than the poet has succeeded.  
By the way:
 William Carlos Williams was a doctor by trade and wrote his poems in between seeing patients.  He also felt that poetry was to be experienced by all and that concrete things, not ideas were the way to awaken the spirit. 

 For an analytical look at Wm. Carlos Williams the Red Wheel Barrow  : (click the link)

NAPOWRIMO #7 A Tritina: CSA soldiers.

Downtown Lakeland stands a monument,
dedicated to soldiers on the skids.
Civil wars, leave footprints.

Scent of citrus, footprints
remembered in this old monument.
I linger in the midst of historic skids.

The North burned the South to its skids;
and all that remained were ashen footprints.

The sky is blue, but its a grey monument.

NaPoWriMo #6

Inspired by a Publix Sandwich
I stopped to pick up a sandwich,
I dressed up for my writers group.
Ciera greated me with pained lips,
Sandwich maker hands,
Chicken Tenders in a bag:
mixed up with texas pete's sauce,
a bit of ranch dressing,
a pinch of blue cheese.
She sliced open the bread
and then she smiled.
She laid out the bags contents,
held by cheddar cheese. Plop!
Isolated elements, placed into oven.
And all the flavors became one.

A Sonnet to Brian Owner of BC REcords and Tapes

Dear Brian (Owner of BC's REcords)

BC's records on the corner of third and main
My brother and I would search thru the bin
of used vinyl, and tapes: music preordained,
Brian a guide to our novice Cashire Cat grin.

 We would move up down surprised
by the Molly Hatchet record cover
looked too mean to take as a prize,
but we looked the record over.

Brian would say, "Start with the blues,
I think ZZ Top is a good place to start."
My mind would seize in breakthroughs
 From Miles Davis's Bitches Brew: ART?

Thank you Brian for taking our ten year old senses
teaching us with graces and taking little offenses. 

NaPoMo: My Familiar Cat

My Familiar Cat:

Oliver follows,
shadowesque;
he trips me up.

Poem One For National Poetry Month April

Grocery Store Neon:  (Lune)

Tiger Tony greets
cereal folk
with sugared dreams.

White Noise by Don DeLillo




Don Delillo's book is thought provoking so here are my thoughts:

My girlfriend, Genevieve, in the year 2000, asked if I had read White Noise by Don DeLillo. I had not. But I answered, in order to keep my self looking smart and deep, "Yes I have."
Then she asked me a follow up question, "What about the grocery store, what do you think it means? The Illumination of light makes everything bare."
I mumbled "Awesome."
My standard response is always "Awesome." But is it really awesome or not. Now sixteen years later, I have read "White Noise" and was glad for the experience.

White noise is a term from communication theory which describes a random mix of frequencies over a wide spectrum that renders signals unintelligible. The above discussion was an airborne toxic event. My words were mere static to Genevieve's desire to discuss a cool book with her boyfriend. I added to Genevieve's statically charged "White Noise." My lack of honesty was the spark to light an airborne toxic event. Airborne toxic events have happened every time I have been a poser, and acted more intelligent than I am.

One time a friend asked me if I had read James Joyce's Ulysses. I told the friend that it was a must read, and spoke very highly of it. So my friend read the book and hated it. I had not even cracked the spine of the book, so what was I doing recommending the book. My friend was left with an awful taste for Joyce. And I came away feeling like a cheat.

White Noise is speaking from our asses. We fling shit upon memory. We fling shit upon our friendships. We become a smelly outhouse full of half truths. DeLillo is trying to tell us to wake up from all of the static we have filled in our stories. We want a way to break thru so we desire true Icons, but Icons are filled and deadened by mad men static. I buy my car because of those darn cute hamsters who drive my car in a KIA advertisement. The ads layer programmed noise around a core of nothing. We are left deluded. Deluded meaning to be amused to death. What is then real? What is the core of truth? Why is the grocery store is the savior of civilization? The blinding consumed light of capital enrichment frames our middle income lives.
The book white Noise is tremendous, and a call for us thoughtful readers to wake up. We must wake up before the Semi-Truck runs down that child riding a tricycle across a highway.




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Book review: Hollywood Dirt by Alessandra Torre.

Hollywood Dirt by Alessandra Torre




I hate to admit it but I love romance novels. I hope this does not kick me out of the Old Boys Club in Lakeland Florida, but I was probably not in this club anyway. As I was not born her nor did not go to school here in Imperial Polk County Florida. Here is a review with no spoilers, I hope its a good valentines gift to all of you romantics out there.

The draw to this romance was the role of Quincy depicted in a novel. My wife is from Monticello Ga./Fl. Monticello is not to far from Quincy. Actually, my mother in law worked in Quincy for quit awhile, my brother in law played baseball matches in Quincy, and yes I have been to Quincy... even if it was for a short time. So, I wanted to see if Alessandra Torre got the feeling of this region right. Torre gets the little nuances that makes this part of the country interesting. She does quit a great job of describing the things that make Quincy work. She also gets the correct bitter flavor that the locals would hold against a Hollywood Man like Cole Masten.

Cole Masten, decides to take a role that will be filmed in Quincy Ga. or Florida. Summer Jenkins live in Quincy. She is not a Southern Belle but she is southern... like a glass of her Sweet Tea. Summer finds Cole an annoyance at first, then the romance blossoms. This love story is mixed well with local lore and jealousies, the coca cola millionaires, hold the cards of value in this town. Summer is not one of these original 65, she was not even born in Quincy, so this makes her an outsider/insider in this Southern Town.  Okay bad metaphor alert: Summer, the character, is like a strong Summer day, warm, kind, beautiful, but can turn into a deadly summer storm.

Will Cole will be wooed by the warm summer breeze,  or will Cole be destroyed by a Summer Tornado?  Will Cole choose the Hollywood pleather, or find true Hollywood Dirt in Quincy Georgia/Florida?
This book was a fun, and sometimes reading is just for fun anyway.  The romantic emotions were vivid, and came alive due to an abundant amount of  full of passionate prose.   For those who blush at lusty intersections, this read may not be for you.  But if you like your mind spiced up, this book will deliver big and large.
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Happy Valentines Day.



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How to Write TO Friends

Question: How does one Increase Writing to Friends and Family

I love writing letters.  And, yes its an archaic practice, one that is dying.  But, letters are romantic, exciting, and something Charlie Brown oh so wished for.    An email is forgettable but a letter can be forever.  So, I have devised a new way to write to more people than just my select few.

I love randomness, and variety but often feel like I am trapped into a habit forming milieu. I utilize games of chance to help break out of my stale environment.  The game I created utilizes the app random number.  The app creates a random number which corresponds to a certain number on list, and then I write to that person.  So if you see a note from me, just out of the blue, know your number has come up. 

Thanks Gregory D. Rothbard