The Middle East. Noon. Sun exploding directly overhead in a faded blue sky. Feel that sun, as if through a large magnifying glass hovering just over your head and shoulders. See the bustling market place, with its…
Read More
He was what they used to call a ‘hep-cat’.
Read More
for anyone who has ever loved …deeply
anyone who’s heart has ever ached
who’s been alone…
this is for you
Read More
Note: the following is the first chapter of what was a novel-in-progress. It is the transcript of a reading by me, Ivan Von Noshrilgram Sr - celebrated philosopher-botanist, wild game hunter, exotic animal trainer, extinguished firewalker, writer and humanitarian lecturer, at the East 75 Street Community Centre, in New York City, sometime in September 1972. Please pardon any indecisiveness that may seem to exist in terms of theme, character, style, storyline, genre or raison d’être. (As an aspiring writer, these were elements I found most challenging.) Oh, and also pace. Pace, and tone... and maybe direction? Really, it was a work-in-progress; but a very scary one. It’s to be published by Doubleday in the spring of next year. Well, maybe. They don’t seem to be answering their phone. …Perhaps they’ve relocated?
Read More
This week, Clearview AI, Google and Amazon disclosed their recent deliberations with the Library of Congress in Washington and the Senate Subcommittee for Literacy Reform over the legal right to purchase, and possess indefinitely, the copyright of English vowels.
Read More
She would never walk out on him... She had not imagined her life without him. She couldn’t. Anyway. She smiled and told herself she really would start flossing…
Read More
Somehow, we’d made it to the late-nineties.
Read More
Rising above the melody, ever so slightly at first, was what could only have been the sound of a horse falling backwards, perhaps with a bookshelf of encyclopedias, down a narrow stairwell, as if to a conga rhythm. In a flash Kingsley understood that behind one of the doors before him along the hallway, a person was dancing.
Read More
Though he is unaware, the lights on the chest and arms of the spacesuit are flickering violently and in an array of colors. At the end of the street is the house. The one he grew up in.
He walks up the center of the road.
Read More
“Good evening…” I began in Japanese with an air of solemnity. “I am Canada. I traveled across an airplane. I have come, and I am very energy. Also, I canoe.”
Read More
“And, best of all,” says Yukiko Nakanishi, “among those guys, towering high above, was Mike the Rat. Yep! Mike the Rat watched the others do a cartwheel and, despite his very large head, he did one too! Right here on Baker City’s Main Street! I got a photo!”
Read More
“The truth is that unlimited wealth is within your grasp, and it takes little effort to acquire it!!” Ivan Von Noshrilgram Sr.
Read More
It seems all things beautiful are illuminated badly...and it is in the shadows that we hide our longing.
Read More
One may regard a book affectionately, watch it closely on the shelf in its natural habitat while hiding behind a potted fern, but to read is much, much more fruitful.
Read More
“I know words. I have the BEST words.”
Read More
You know, sometime you might leave your hand on a hot element; or step out into a hailstorm completely naked; or insist on eating a solid, yet indigestible, object. Like a spatula. Whatever diversion you choose, once you stop, a distinct happiness always pops up. Even serenity.
Read More
Ms Knightley put her finger on the red record button of a large, ancient tape recorder. (Ultimately, I watched her use both hands to activate the record feature of the tape deck. It made me smile.)
She stared at me blankly, “…Your name?”
Read More
“How long did the princess live?”
“Not sure. Not very.” He checked his pockets and to his alarm realized he’d smoked his last cigarette.
“Why not?” the girl asked, as if this might be the last straw, the one that would destroy their day.
“Because her head got separated from her body, mostly. That’s why.”
Read More