The Unknown: The Orange Line.
P.S. Keep trying though. Love is good. I know he/she is out here/there somewhere. But enough about me. Let’s talk about Jason. Who is going to publish him? How many rejection letters can he withstand? And you: would you be more inclined to write if you had readers who were not critics? Who’s going to publish you, unless that’s not what you want because writing is after all thinking and being and doing and learning and growing and rewarding or something, not producing. Who will publish Gwen, Lynn, Rick, Rishi, Danielle, Sam, Andy, Sigfried, Kate (someone will publish Kate, actually). Frank may never be published. Someone should light a match under his ass. Enough about me. And how can being a writer ever be any fun? There are only so many degrees you can get. Did you know that you are a very powerful person? Because you are an excellent poet. That’s why they’re going to try to starve you. Fighting is writing. Society is going to collapse so slowly that nobody will notice. In the coming millennium, programmers will make $500 an hour, everyone else will make $5. Congress recently refused to allow the minimum wage to be raised by about 50 cents in the year 2000. But there will be billions spent on weapons, including better nuclear weapons. Who will stop them? Will FC2, Dalkey, Sun and Moon, Burning Deck? And FC2 has already been attacked by politicians, and for no real good reason. Certainly not Norton, not Little Brown. Routledge and South End will stop them, but only academics will know about it.

I won’t stop them either, but I will have fun trying.

P.P.S. Do me one favor: smoke marijuana alone and for one hour write down everything you think.

sickening decadent hypertext novel META fiction al bull shit sort of a doc ument ary corr e spond ence art is cool look at art live read ings