Overdog Staffers
Originally uploaded by King Wenclas.
ULA poet Frank Walsh talking to the enemy. (More photos yet to come.)
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13 comments:
(Anyone who knows the two Conde-Nast employees, please clue us in.)
Myths to Live By (March 26, 1904 � October 31, 1987) was an American professor, writer, and orator best known for his work in the fields of comparative mythology and comparative religion.
Annoying two corporate chicks while they take a smoke break: the face of revolution.
You miss the point. We made an honest attempt to connect with such people, to get our point of view across, or to say, "We're writers also." An attempt to bridge the divide, from our end. (It never comes from theirs.)
You don't dispute the fact, "Grace," that this country is divided between rich and poor, and the divide every day is growing greater?
Can we expect anything from the Overdogs from their own generosity?
Let's see: the minimum wage hasn't budged in ten years (it was too low then!) while money flowing to the upper levels of society has increased by multiples.
The story of my life is witnessing a decades-long class war waged from on high. . . .
It's literature which should be covering this story, as writers from Dickens to Zola to Norris to Steinbeck once covered such stories.
But established literature as it's presently constituted is unequipped to tell the true stories of our era.
Yeah, a whole lot of mainstream lit sucks. (See my blog, if the Blogger people can find my old postings.)
And yet, two women outside the Conde Nast building were not interested in talking to a stranger. You conclude this makes them evil drones. I conclude that bugging people does not constitute a revolutionary act.
But "Grace," we talked (or tried to talk) to way more then two people!
At the NY Times we scarcely had time to talk to anyone. Goons rushed from the building and shut us down.
Our excursion, in and of itself, wasn't revolutionary, no. It was actually a peace gesture.
What makes a revolutionary organization?
One which doesn't believe in business-as-usual; which seeks to change the way literature is found, created, and promoted in this society from top to bottom.
One which puts writers themselves in charge. Gone is the position of supplicant.
One which argues for a truly open and democratic literature, where writers from all levels of society have a voice.
One which fearlessly and relentlessly exposes corruption within the literary status quo.
Do you seriously oppose any of this?
No, I don't oppose it. I just don't think you're doing it.
But you're wrong. Our organization exists as a place where writers themselves are in charge. No hierarchy. No out-of-touch mandarin behind a huge desk at the 49th floor of a skyscraper.
We're publishing books. The content is controlled by the authors themselves. No literary agents or conglomerate editors calling the shots.
Every day we argue against corruption, against literary aristocrats, and for authentic, democratic art.
I'm tired of arguing with you in a million different places, particularly because you most enjoy changing the topic to yourself.
Well, in part the topic of this blog IS the ULA.
You don't seem to want to discuss the CIA-in-literature topic.
Anonymice, dimmy grease, you guys are spooks.
Ghosts in the machine. Automotons.
You know exactly what is going on here. "You are the spirits that deny"
You're in here to waste King's time, our time and that you know too.
You're spooks and you stink.
We learned a tremendous amt on this excursion. Main thing was to concentrate on going directly to the people and go around the baffle of the robot hordes. And the heartlessness of the living dead Exhibition.
"You're in here to waste King's time"
FDW, does "King" pay you to suck his dick, or do you just lack enough confidence to form your own opinion or values?
Excitement, King?
This is about the most boring and inconsequential waste of time I can think of.
And I'm out. Keep bitching about your worthless little corner of the world, all.
Hey, "Jerky"
Niether would anyone have to pay me to bash your filthy head in. You coward.
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