My latest piece of fiction — working titled as “South Whitworth” — isn’t spewing out of me as easily as I’d thought it would. That, or I’m becoming more and more selective in my sentences than ever before. I’m not accepting the shit anymore, so I’m not accepting 75% of what I write or so. I do like the idea of celebrity hosts and hostesses at a fancy restaurant though, popping up onto a video monitor to welcome you to the joint and show you to your table (through a series of floor embedded lights). We’re going there, seriously. We’re going lots of places, many I’m fearful of. They’re cringe inducing in a way. The other big thing was this idea of artists who make paintings, actual canvas style paintings (I’m not simply talking graphic arts here), out of a computer program. This concept was of course influenced by Guitar and now DJ Hero. How many artistic skills (both guitar playing AND DJing are artistic) can we shove into a program so anyone can call themselves one? Somewhere inside all this technological empiricism though (I’ve even come up with “experience vending machines”), the snakes will still trace through the alley-ways stalking the rats. Rats who, by that point, will probably be as diseased as we are.
The form of Warren Ellis’ Do Anything is very interesting to me. I actually thought today if I could do something similar, stay dedicated, and make it work. He’s essentially writing a long, journalistic/essay feel, novel; it’s going to take a while however. See, he’s releasing it in about 400 word splashes on a website (Bleeding Cool) once every week until he’s done. Each new addition continues with the last’ concepts, themes, references, etc. It’s doable. Go for a year, and all of a sudden you’re close to a novel. So far Ellis has mostly talked about how he’s got a Jack Kirby head — apparently this is true — in his office. It talks to him, in his mind not for real, and influences him to do what he does in the comics industry. But no one knows it. My mind’s a strange beast, but I don’t think it’s that far out to sea. They’re all great reads though, and short (if time’s an issue).
With all that the Internet has done for a shit future for humanity [see: paragraph ONE, above], it’s done wonders in so so many ways as well. Without it, I’d never be published in ANYTHING EVER I’m convinced. Without it, very few people would know about local Rock & Roll [see: the Fuck Knights and City On The Make]. Without it, artists would forever be subjected to the dreadful community of hoity-toity-ism and rich people. I’d love to have seen what Philip K. Dick had done in a world ruled by www’s. Because you know he’d take the idea, like he took any fucking idea he EVER had, and run with it wildly, spot on, and scarily accurate to a future we have yet to see. In a way, even though right now a copy of William Gibson’s Neuromancer is what supposedly is inspiring me, I’d be lying if I said PKD wasn’t on the mind while writing right now. Back to it.