jamiatt:

I like it when my friends send me their word counts on their books. If you can’t get behind your friend getting stuff done because it makes you feel bad about your own work you are not being a good friend. Let’s all be excited for the people in our lives when they succeed.

Hell yeah.

seattlefictionfederation:

Do You Know Corinne Manning?

This is Corinne Manning. Here she is reading something that’s probably awesome.

Corinne Manning has fiction made out of words in Drunken Boat, Qarrtsiluni, and Vol. 1 Brooklyn. Her story “A Slow Steady Eruption” is available as a chapbook from Alice Blue Books. She co-coordinates the reading series The Furnace, which is totally badass.

Corinne Manning once interviewed Peter Trachtenburg and they talked about Proust and cats, and that is beautiful.

Corinne Manning is also one of the readers at SFF#1. Fiction will be coming out of her mouth on Monday August 25th at 7:00 in the evening, at the Richard Hugo House in Seattle. You should be there to catch it.

And she’s at corinnemanning on the tamblrs, too.

ras-al-ghul-is-dead:

A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s  wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society.  Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.  
Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:
I don’t know who any of these folks are.
They were tourists I presume.
But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body. 
"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."
(Laughs.)
There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.
The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”
One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo. 
There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”
"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’
ras-al-ghul-is-dead:

A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s  wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society.  Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.  
Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:
I don’t know who any of these folks are.
They were tourists I presume.
But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body. 
"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."
(Laughs.)
There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.
The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”
One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo. 
There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”
"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’
ras-al-ghul-is-dead:

A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s  wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society.  Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.  
Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:
I don’t know who any of these folks are.
They were tourists I presume.
But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body. 
"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."
(Laughs.)
There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.
The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”
One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo. 
There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”
"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’
ras-al-ghul-is-dead:

A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s  wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society.  Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.  
Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:
I don’t know who any of these folks are.
They were tourists I presume.
But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body. 
"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."
(Laughs.)
There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.
The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”
One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo. 
There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”
"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’
ras-al-ghul-is-dead:

A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s  wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society.  Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.  
Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:
I don’t know who any of these folks are.
They were tourists I presume.
But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body. 
"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."
(Laughs.)
There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.
The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”
One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo. 
There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”
"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’
ras-al-ghul-is-dead:

A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s  wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society.  Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.  
Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:
I don’t know who any of these folks are.
They were tourists I presume.
But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body. 
"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."
(Laughs.)
There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.
The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”
One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo. 
There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”
"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’
ras-al-ghul-is-dead:

A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s  wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society.  Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.  
Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:
I don’t know who any of these folks are.
They were tourists I presume.
But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body. 
"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."
(Laughs.)
There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.
The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”
One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo. 
There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”
"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’
ras-al-ghul-is-dead:

A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s  wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society.  Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.  
Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:
I don’t know who any of these folks are.
They were tourists I presume.
But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body. 
"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."
(Laughs.)
There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.
The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”
One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo. 
There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”
"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’

ras-al-ghul-is-dead:

A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s  wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society.  Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.  

Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:

I don’t know who any of these folks are.

They were tourists I presume.

But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body.

"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."

(Laughs.)

There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.

The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”

One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo.

There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”

"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’

(via sarahjeanalex)

seattlefictionfederation:

Do You Know Matthew Simmons?

This is Matthew Simmons. Here he is wearing a shirt featuring fellow local-author Jonathan Evison’s novel West of Here. Hey Matthew, where can I get that shirt?

Matthew Simmons wrote a short story collection called Happy Rock and a novella called A Jello Horse. According to Blake Butler, he was once in a one-man black metal band called Fire in My Bag.

Matthew Simmons wrote a story called “Honey” about a guy who kills himself while listening to Rush and is reincarnated as a fungus. You should really read this story.

Matthew Simmons is also one of the readers at SFF#1. You can hear him read his fiction live and in the flesh on Monday August 25th at 7:00 in the evening, at the Richard Hugo House in Seattle.

Seriously, you should read that story “Honey.” It’s in Happy Rock and it’s pretty amazing.

Oh, also follow him on tumblr: happyrockisabook.

Oh hey, SFF is an official Stranger recommendation. Come join us on Monday the 25th at Richard Hugo House and listen to some grade-A fiction.

playsinverse:

Killer review of THE HOLY GHOST PEOPLE over at The Rumpus! Check it out, and thanks to Julie Marie Wade for the kind words!

"Not since I read the title poem of Sharon Olds’ electric first collection, Satan Says, have I been so mesmerized by the power of a poet to inhabit and alter religious imagery to explore essential human truths—among them, the yearning for knowledge, the persistence of uncertainty, the limitations of language. If the artist is not a mere transcriber of life’s experiences, but one who translates experience into another form, a creation we would call art, then Young is an exemplary artist indeed."BOOM. playsinverse:

Killer review of THE HOLY GHOST PEOPLE over at The Rumpus! Check it out, and thanks to Julie Marie Wade for the kind words!

"Not since I read the title poem of Sharon Olds’ electric first collection, Satan Says, have I been so mesmerized by the power of a poet to inhabit and alter religious imagery to explore essential human truths—among them, the yearning for knowledge, the persistence of uncertainty, the limitations of language. If the artist is not a mere transcriber of life’s experiences, but one who translates experience into another form, a creation we would call art, then Young is an exemplary artist indeed."BOOM.

playsinverse:

Killer review of THE HOLY GHOST PEOPLE over at The Rumpus! Check it out, and thanks to Julie Marie Wade for the kind words!

"Not since I read the title poem of Sharon Olds’ electric first collection, Satan Says, have I been so mesmerized by the power of a poet to inhabit and alter religious imagery to explore essential human truths—among them, the yearning for knowledge, the persistence of uncertainty, the limitations of language. If the artist is not a mere transcriber of life’s experiences, but one who translates experience into another form, a creation we would call art, then Young is an exemplary artist indeed."

BOOM.

Precocious child narrator. Greek declinations. Eccentric father figures. Bibliophilia. Not actually about samurai.

obscurevideogames:

the-ankle-rocker:

Totally Rad, known in Japan as Magic John, developed by Aicom and published by Jaleco for the Nintendo Entertainment System.

(1990) obscurevideogames:

the-ankle-rocker:

Totally Rad, known in Japan as Magic John, developed by Aicom and published by Jaleco for the Nintendo Entertainment System.

(1990)

obscurevideogames:

the-ankle-rocker:

Totally Rad, known in Japan as Magic John, developed by Aicom and published by Jaleco for the Nintendo Entertainment System.

(1990)

Boom, Maine. (at Isle au Haut Ferry and Mailboat)

“I saw Twilight—my granddaughter made me watch it, she said it was the greatest vampire film ever. After the ‘film’ was over I wanted to smack her across her head with my shoe, but I do not want a (tell-all) book called Grannie Dearest written on me when I die. So instead I gave her a DVD of Murnau’s 1922 masterpiece Nosferatu and told her, ‘Now that’s a vampire film!’ And that goes for all of you! Watch Nosferatu instead!”
— Lauren Bacall (via jenmyers)

Lauren Bacall, boss forever.

(via brightwalldarkroom)