The Baggage We All Carry

Let’s talk about why Faisal Shahzad got on Air Emirates when he was supposed to be on the no-fly list. Actually, there isn’t much to talk about. Most seasoned fliers can probably provide the answers to the questions that international security services, from the CIA to the Mossad, will be asking in the days ahead, though the answers are likely to be more anecdotal than statistical. Ask how many parents of toddlers who have ordered the chicken nuggets happy meal on the flight to Frankfurt have received instead a series of kosher or vegetarian selections, including the none too happy-making hummus and baba ganoush platter. Or, let’s discuss communications regarding another star-crossed flight, the Northwest Airlines plane carrying passengers to Detroit on Christmas Day. And what about the earlier blunder allowing Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab to get on a KLM flight in Lagos in the first place? By the way, Faisal’s and Umar’s fathers could join the same support group in that they are both prominent citizens, one a banker and one a former high ranking Air Force officer, in their respective countries. They would inevitably have something to offer in a discussion about how lives of privilege lead to Taliban membership. Come to think of it, it would make a great Oprah. But we are digressing. Any investigation that deals with why people who shouldn’t are getting on planes must go back to asking the question of why certain pieces of luggage are not getting on planes when they should. Why have so many of us found that our luggage has inadvertently made it onto an unintentional no-fly list? Let’s talk about checking a bag from Kennedy to Nice with a stopover in Paris. Let’s talk about the valiant Alitalia baggage personnel in Florence who located said bag as it was refused entrance to yet another country. “The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in the stars,” but in the baggage we carry. Discover all the lost bags that never made it on planes and you’ll find the explanation for all the terrorists who did. And what about the baggage we all carry around even when we’re not flying?

[This was originally posted to The Screaming Pope, Francis Levy's blog of rants and reactions to contemporary politics, art and culture.]

Do You Feel the Storm? Is It Coming For You?

Stand Up and Be Counted!

How many times have you picked up a book or gone to a movie and read about or watched a character and said, “That is me,” or better yet gone to a museum and looked at a portrait or a sculpture, say Michelangelo’s David or Rembrandt’s portrait of his son Titus, and said, “Yup, that’s me”? Are you Sinclair Lewis’s Babbit, are you Alyosha Karamazov, are you David Copperfield? Are you Sherman McCoy from Bonfire, are you Jamie from Bright Lights, Big City, are you Gatsby, or Dick Diver from Tender is the Night? Are you Yourcenar’s Hadrian, are you Bardamu from Celine’s Journey to the End of the Night, or better yet are you Robin Vote in Djuna Barnes’s Nightwood? OK, let’s get to the point, are you Jake Barnes or Brett Ashley from The Sun Also Rises, or a little of both? Are you Casaubon or Humbert Humbert, Ulrich from The Man Without Qualities, or Franz Biberkopf from Berlin Alexanderplatz? Are you Hans Castorp from Zauberberg or Leverkuhn from Doctor Faustus? Alas, are you Swann? Are you Vronsky or Levin from Anna Karenina? Come on, tell the truth. Are you Pierre or Andrei from War and Peace? Eventually you’re going to have to make a choice. Are you Molly, Leopold or Stephan from Ulysses, or Gabriel Conroy—yes everybody, man, woman or beast, has a little bit of Gabriel Conroy in them. Isn’t that Joyce’s achievement? Just like there is a little bit of Odysseus returning home unrecognized by all except his faithful Argos in all of us who have ever left and returned. Have you ever dreamt you were Kirk Douglas’s Spartacus, Antoine Doinel from The Four Hundred Blows, John Osborne’s Jimmy Porter, Natalie Wood in Splendor in the Grass, Marilyn Monroe in Some Like It Hot, Jill Clayburgh in An Unmarried Woman, or James Dean’s Cal in East of Eden (and even Health Ledger’s Joker if we’re being totally honest)? There’s a little bit of Clint Eastwood’s Harry Callahan in all of us (who hasn’t given some thought to holding a .357 magnum?), a touch of Meryl Streep’s Silkwood, and naturally we all want to stand up and be counted like Marlon Brandon in On the Waterfront. Or maybe you just want to accept the benign indifference of the universe like Estragon, who inaugurates Waiting for Godot with his famed pronunciamento, “Nothing to be done.”

[This was originally posted to The Screaming Pope, Francis Levy's blog of rants and reactions to contemporary politics, art and culture.]

Girls Write Now

WRRRROCK ON is next Tuesday, May 25, from 7 to 9:30 at Galapagos Art Space in Brooklyn. We're getting pretty excited. So in preparation, this week we'll be spotlighting some of the groups performing, and the authors appearing.

The event is to benefit this truly valuable group called Girls Write Now. Michelle Obama named them one of the top after-school arts and culture programs in the country. As with any operation, it takes money to run, and they are hoping to raise $25K in their spring fund-raising drive.

So if you can't make it out to the event next Tuesday, GWN has 4 other ways that you can contribute to their cause listed on their website.

In the words of one of the girls from the program, here is some more on what their program provides:

"Saturday morning finally arrived. It was the first day of the Girls Write Now mentoring program. I was so happy to be part of the program. I arrived on 8th Avenue and found the building. I took a deep breath, and pushed the doors open. I was so nervous that I wanted to run back home. I entered the lobby and meekly approached the concierge. I asked for the Girls Write Now Program. He must have had keen insight because he gave me a big smile and said, "It is on the 20th floor." I entered the elevator along with several other girls. The journey up felt like an eternity. I began to fret over the usual worries such as, "Will I make a friend? Will the mentors be kind? I began to regret that I did not persuade a friend to participate in the program with me. Ding. The elevator arrived, and it broke my stream of self-doubting questions. I said to myself, 'All right, let's get this show on the road.'

"I stepped off the elevator and I was greeted by two other mentees. They gave me a warm welcome, a big smile, a name tag and a gift. I was given my own personal journal. I ran my fingers over the cover and smiled. Somehow I knew I was in the right place. I was asked to complete an application consisting of mixed questions about my background, interests, likes and dislikes. Then all of the mentors and mentees were instructed to break up into groups. I socialized with professional women who have exciting and creative careers. I could not believe that I had the opportunity to meet a woman who works in advertisement at MTV. I also met an author of a cookbook, and spoke with other journalists. I felt as if I entered a world that was never available to me before. I felt lucky.

"Later, I had the chance to participate in a discussion with women from diverse backgrounds. We discussed values pertaining to the writing field such as respect, creativity, and family. These are values that I cherish, and it was nice to share them with other women who cared. The day ended with a discussion about future events and learning the Girls Write Now Pledge. I was so excited to hear that I will have the chance to attend so many exciting writing workshops and visit places such as Barnard College. I looked at my watch and I could not believe that four hours had passed. I left the building with more confidence then I had when I entered. I also had a huge smile and a good feeling in my heart."

le rire de la méduse

I sent Tzipi this video of me reading from the "Medusenhaupt" section of my novel. She had Asher post it to her YouTube page:

Asher's Interview

Tzipi was married briefly in the 70s, and she has an adult son named Asher with whom she's very close. Asher was recently interviewed on the radio. People always ask the same question: what was it like growing up with an iconic cultural figure for a mother?

Mul Yam

Vivian's first extended conversation with Tzipi took place at a famous restaurant in Tel Aviv, Mul Yam. Although that dinner ended in catastrophe, I'd definitely recommend the food. The chef is Yoram Nitzan. Nitzan is a devoted friend of Tzipi's, despite the fact that she "ruins" his beautiful food by washing it down with Coca-Cola. She refuses to drink wine! She says it makes her feel "desiccated".

This is Nitzan's take on calamari:

Los Angeles-area Lit Peeps: The 13th Hour Is Here

Black Clock magazine unveils its suitably mysterious, idiosyncratic blog, with such subject areas as “Throwdowns” and “Experiments” accompanying more servicey/pedestrian offerings like interviews and calendar listings. While the online launch has already occurred, the real-life launch (the one with beer) will take place on May 16 at downtown LA artist space The Wulf. Contributing writers Doug Kearney, Emily Kiernan, Katie Manderfield and Doug Matus will read their work, and the band Wounded Dinosaur will perform. Visit the Black Clock blog.

Sunday, May 16 at 5 p.m. The Wulf, 1026 S. Santa Fe Ave. #203, Los Angeles, CA. 213-488-1182; www.thewulf.org.

Illustration by Eliza Frye.

French Flaps + Deckled Edges

Dear Readers:

With the intention of enhancing your reading experience, we will be publishing each of our forthcoming titles (starting with Joshua Mohr's Termite Parade) with French Flaps and deckled edges.

They will also be a quarter-inch wider, for those of you who may be concerned with width.

We're pretty excited about this and hope you will be too.

Golden shower, anyone?

"Termite Parade" is in stores in about 6 weeks and I'm getting super amped up. I read from it for the first time in Berkeley a couple weeks back. Evan Karp was nice enough to shoot some video of the writers doing their thing.

Definitely send me your thoughts on the new stuff... I'd love to hear.

Joshua Mohr | Not Your Usual Beach Reading from Evan Karp on Vimeo.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull

When a friend of mine saw the cover of Tzipi's last novel, she said, "She may be the world's greatest living novelist, but I'm sorry, this cover is really tacky. It looks like Jonathan Livingston Seagull!"


I hope Tzipi soesn't see this post. I never told her I didn't like the cover of her book.

Tzipi Honigman

A couple of months ago, Eric asked me to blog about my novel, The Correspondence Artist, and I decided to devote a week of posts to one of my characters, Duong Van Binh. I'm dedicating this week to another of the four fictional manifestations of my narrator's secret celebrity lover: Tzipi Honigman, the 68-year-old Israeli novelist who just won the Nobel Prize.

No need to feel ignorant if you've never heard of her: she's a figment of my imagination. My narrator's best friend says, "You know, I think Tzipi Honigman is the most beautiful woman in the world. She makes you think there's nothing sexier than a woman in her 60s." This is true. Look at her author photo:


If I had a little more courage, I'd also show you a picture of Tzipi's jealous ex, Hannah. My narrator describes the most famous image of her:

"I've seen a photograph of her pregnancy. She was so stunningly beautiful. Annie Leibovitz took a portrait of her, smiling beatifically over her perfect, soft breasts, the tendrils of her brown hair falling over her shoulders, her lovely round belly circled by Tzipi's unmistakably muscular and yet graceful, tanned arm. Tzipi was mostly out of the shot, obscured by Hannah's naked glory, but you could see her pressing her face into the back of her lover's neck.

"That was ten years ago. Hannah was 19. Tzipi was 58."

Wrrrrock on! Benefit in Brooklyn

I'm really excited to be hosting a literacy benefit in Brooklyn in a couple weeks. Proceeds benefit an organization called Girls Write Now. My publisher, Two Dollar Radio, is one of the sponsors, as are many other houses: Chin Music, 7 Stories, Coffee House, Tin House, Small Beer, Exterminating Angel, Featherproof, Tyrant, and Unbridled Books.

The night, May 25th, should be a total blast. It's taking place at the Galapagos Art Space. There will be 2 bands, Japanther and Care Bears on Fire (these links are to Youtube vids of them performing). I'll do a short reading, too, though one of my goals is to minimize my blathering.

Most importantly, the evening is an opportunity to promote literacy in the public schools. Come out and join us for a cocktail and give generously. We all want to keep the kids reading: this is a wonderful way to get involved and help Girls Write Now!

Orange Eats Creeps Galleys

We just printed galleys of Grace Krilanovich's The Orange Eats Creeps. If you are affiliated with the media and would be keen on checking out a copy, please contact Brian Obenauf by email at brian[at]twodollarradio.com.

Steve Erickson says in his introduction that "The exhilaration of such a novel is nearly beyond calculation. If a new literature is at hand then it might as well begin here."

It’s the ’90s Pacific Northwest refracted through a dark mirror, where meth and madness hash it out in the woods. . . A band of hobo vampire junkies roam the blighted landscape—trashing supermarket breakrooms, praying to the altar of Poison Idea and GG Allin at basement rock shows, crashing senior center pancake breakfasts—locked in the thrall of Robitussin trips and their own wild dreams.

A girl with drug-induced ESP and an eerie connection to Patty Reed (a young member of the Donner Party who credited her survival to her relationship with a hidden wooden doll), searches for her disappeared foster sister along “The Highway That Eats People,” stalked by a conflation of Twin Peaks’ “Bob” and the Green River Killer, known as Dactyl.

With a scathing voice and penetrating delivery, Grace Krilanovich’s The Orange Eats Creeps is one of the most ferocious debut novels in memory.

'The Great American Nose-Picking Novel'

The May issue of Dazed & Confused has a bitchin' write-up on Crust and interview with author Lawrence Shainberg.

Here's a highlight:

"A witty-erudite and gleefully gross-out satire of our information-clogged and techno-bananas age. An energetic and thrillingly modern romp through a habit that's as old as the hills."

And here's one Q/A from the interview:

"Dazed: Crust effectively satirises the sheer glut of information that contemporary readers are exposed to. Are you apprehensive about the future of reading in the age of the internet?"

"LS: Yes, no . . . yes. I don't think anyone understands the extent, meaning and effect of the information explosion. Among other things, I think it creates a situation in which our basic relation to information - which most of us grow up believing to be an unquestionable virtue - becomes adversarial. Add to this the fact that information glut is finally the ultimate censorship - since it trivializes all information (if 100 orchestras are playing under your window, does it matter if one is playing Mozart?) - and that nothing thrives on such repression like corporate media, and you have a situation which may well turn out to be catastrophic."

To throw in an appreciation for Dazed & Confused: It's a beautiful magazine. The May issue has an interview with Oliver Stone and pieces on Fernando Pessoa and Al Jarnow. Easier access is another reason it's time to ditch the OH.