Reason in Madness:
Sundry Rants, Diatribes and
General Chronological Silliness

Ginny Good, A Mostly True Story:

Read and/or Watch


January 17, 2009

If Gaza were the United States there would already be 300,000 dead Americans (as many as were killed in World War Two) and close to two million wounded Americans. The other 300 million of us would be living in conditions as bad or worse than conditions in the Warsaw ghetto when it was occupied by Nazis. Would we be pissed? Nah. We'd figure Israel knew what it was doing. We'd figure it must be for our own good. Jews aren't stupid. They've learned a thing or two in the past sixty years. It's better to be Nazis than Jews; it's better run prisons than be prisoners; it's better to control propaganda than be demonized by it. Duh. American Jews give us our presidents and our celebrities and our sports heroes and our jobs and our jails and free enterprise and Bloomingdale's and Budweiser and Big Bird and Harold Bloom and Sponge Bob and Homer Simpson and liberty and justice for all and Israeli Jews do our dirty work for us. You don't want to bite the hand that feeds you. If Gaza were the United States we'd presume it was best just to let Israel kill and maim however many of our kids they wanted to kill and maim so things could hurry up and get back to normal. Wouldn't we? Don't we? Yeah. We do. Remember David and Goliath? The wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round. Here's an e-mail exchange I just had with some Palestinian guy:


May 20, 2008

Hi Gerard I'm an R&B artist that came across your website looking for contact emails for the top talent agencies. To be honest I have not read/heard the book, I'm busy trying to convince the fat people to promote my art but Ill find time for it. I'm passing it to my family. But the more I get in contact with the industry the less I want to become part of it. I don't know if there's a place colder than the entertainment industry. You mean nothing unless they can generate cash from you. I'm not just another myspacer wannabe star. I feel lucky that I was born in Africa, my parents taught some antimaterialistic sense. No, I wont donate my liver to Oprah's niece like 80% of Americans would do. Sometimes I think I'm too pesimistic but capitalism is killing everything, I see it close in music cause that's what I'm into...but it's the same with everything. We are falling into this big technologie monsters of media helping making a few richer and richer and in the middle most people can't find a meaning to their lives...well they don't even stop to think about it. Even personal relationships are going the way they want, the way we dress..virtualy everything. I had a wonderful time reading your replies to the politically polite standard emails you got from agents. You really kill it. What I hate most in entertianment is that fakeness everywhere, egocentric attitude and...welll you know the rest. There's actually no reason to turn down anything but money. I go out to clubs an d everybody is recreating the fiction and smiling the way MTV told them...SCARY. Thank you for the website. Stay real Gerard, the truth is always the best. Keep spreading the truth there will always be 2 ears/eyes out there. God bless you with love and good health.

When people get puked out enough capitalism will go away, don't worry. Thanks. G.


Thanksgiving Morning, 2007

The way I've got it figured is that the vast, unassailable propaganda apparatus, i.e., all forms of media and entertainment, including politics, has the main task of seeing to it that people keep consuming more and more useless goods and services...which in turn turns consumers stupider and stupider. It's a truly vicious circle. People work more for less, ignore genocide, use poorer populations as an endless supply of slave labor, wage wars as profit centers and believe that anything approximating the truth is a lie. The really rich get richer and richer and the rest of humanity can eat shit and die. That's what makes me such a happy guy.

Accordingly, Ginny Good: A Mostly True Story is officially out of print. Yippee! After you've spent twenty years writing a practically perfect book and another ten years getting it published and turning it into a fifteen-hour, multimedia audio extravaganza, the like of which the world has never seen and hands-down the greatest literary achievement of the 21st Century, there's nothing better than having it all to yourself again.

The publisher was a sweetheart but the book didn't get any hype and "brave, free" American consumers have been conditioned from birth never to buy anything but hype. Oh, well. That Ginny Good didn't get any hype from the giddy, giggly, money grubbing morons and two-bit twits who run the media and entertainment gulag is a blessing in disguise. What they say doesn't suck sucks and what they utterly ignore is the only thing that has even a slight chance of being worth reading or writing. How else are they gonna keep you stupid enough to buy the putrid puke they sell?

I bought all the remaindered copies from the publisher and the rights have all reverted to me and I'm not selling any of either of them to anyone. Ha! Instead, I'm gonna publish a slightly revised edition of the whole beautiful book on my website for free. I'll be sticking it up a little at a time. Read it and weep. Happy Thanksgiving! G.

November 9, 2007

Amazon eats shit, of course. Who doesn't know that? Oh, yeah, the tens of millions of ignorant slave boys and ignorant slave girls who buy the crap Amazon sells. I forgot. But Amazon ate a little extra shit the other day. I reviewed one of their new books, something about the sixties by Tom Brokaw. I can't remember exactly what the review said (I'd look it up but Amazon removed it from their site, as is their fascist right), but the gist was that the book was an insult to the sixties like the last forty years have been an insult to the sixties...that some big bombastic bullshit book by a moneygrubbing corporate hack like Tom Brokaw capitalizing on his celebrity by purporting to report what happened in the sixties is criminally insane, etc., etc.

When I found out Amazon took down my review I commented in the comment section under some jarhead's predictably glowing review of the same bullshit book. The jarhead and I exchanged a few pleasantries. You can go read what he said at Amazon, but here are some of the things I said. I'm memorializing them on my site so I'll know what they were after Amazon gets around to removing them from its fascist site:

"...I see Amazon removed my review. Pity. Having lived in Haight-Ashbury from 1964 to 1968 and having written a way better book about the real time and the real place and the real people there you'd think my opinion ought at least to be heard. Not so, it turns out. Lots of people think it's great to live in a complete police state. You're one of 'em. I'm not. G."

"...I'm living in the present, actually, and I'm actually living. You should try it sometime. My book's a lot about my buddy who was in the Special Forces in Vietnam in 1963 and 1964, so I'm not terribly impressed that you were a Marine. Lots of boneheads who didn't know any better at the time were Marines. I've got two in my book. They're on their way to a rock concert at Speedway Meadows in October of 1967. (Chapter 23) Amazon pulled my review because it was truthful and germane. G."

Then the jarhead asked me if I was surprised that our opinions of each other hadn't changed in the past forty years. Here's what I told him:

"...I'm a little surprised, yeah, but not much has really changed. I blame you for that and assume you blame me. Things like Amazon censoring my valid, fairly innocuous little criticism I blame on guys like you, guys who do what they're told to do and read what they're told to read and say what they're told to say and write what they're told to write. It's a fairly deep and lasting division. I like my side of it and assume you like yours. They each have their advantages and disadvantages. You'll pay to read slop like this Brokaw book and, because you and Random House were stupid enough to buy it and hype it, you'll think it's worth reading or writing. I'll read what I write for free and know it's worth reading and writing or I wouldn't have written it. The chances of either of us coming around to the other's point of view are nil; we'll never understand each other and I suspect that suits you better than it suits me. G."

Oh, well. I guess it's okay that fat Americans keep killing untold millions of people and keep starving untold billions of people in order to import fancy Italian tile for the showers they use to wash their fat. Who wants to eat Doritos and watch the Redskins on a fifty-inch plasma TV with his or her fat dirty? Nobody. America number one! Amazon, Random House and Tom Brokaw, they tell it like it is! Oh, yeah. Stick a fork in me. You can see my most recent swan song here and if you run out of rants to read, here are some old ones. Ciao. G.

October 13, 2007

The only thing that puzzles me anymore is why anyone would want to get a book represented or published, either one, by the giddy twits who run the silly, self-indulgent publishing business nowadays. How do these goons look at themselves in the mirror in the morning? The only thing getting a book published means anymore is that you've succeeded in writing something so inane, so full of shit, so stupid and useless and superfluous that it's deemed suitable to be tossed onto the piles of putrid puke that clutter up bookstores and bestseller lists. The only chance you have of knowing you've written something worth reading or writing is if it never gets published, promoted or read. Hype is the only thing that matters and nothing but putrid money grubbing puke ever gets any hype at all. The cardinal rule of publishing has become "only putrid money grubbing puke may be allowed into the consciousness of ignorant consumers." What do you think keeps ignorant consumers ignorant? Being exposed to nothing but putrid money grubbing puke, that's what. All best, G.

October 7, 2007

The differences between a maggot and your typical American are endless. Maggots are happy, productive, realistic, useful, truthful, trustworthy and sublime. They're self-starters. They work well with other maggots. They're not completely insane. They don't have shit for brains. They don't make any money and they don't want to make any money. They eat dead flesh and become pretty turquoise bottle flies, glinting in the sun.

Typical Americans are exactly the opposite; they're miserable, counterproductive, deluded, useless, ridiculous, untrustworthy liars and cheats who only make money and only want to make money. They eat living flesh and become stupid, fat and superfluous. Are there maggots enough to dispose of so many millions of tons of worthless fat? You bet. God can make as many as it might take, don't worry. G.

August 1, 2007

"And the voice of harpers, and musicians, and of pipers, and trumpeters, shall be heard no more at all in thee; and no craftsman shall be found any more in thee; and the sound of a millstone shall be heard no more at all in thee; and the light of a candle shall shine no more at all in thee; and the voice of the bridegroom and of the bride shall be heard no more at all in thee: for thy merchants were the great men of the earth; for by thy sorceries were all nations deceived. And in her was found the blood of prophets, and of saints, and of all that were slain upon the earth."

Here's the e-mail I'm in the middle of sending to the twenty thousand giddy, giggly, fascist goons on my little lists who keep y'all brainwashed beyond belief. Joseph Goebbels was a pantywaist punk compared to these bozos. G.

July 17, 2007

The morning mail:

Having seen and first hand witnessed the "real socialism in action", let me tell you that the self-imposed censorship of the collective pseudo-conscience is orders of magnitude more virulent and stronger and ever more pervasive than the official, Politburo imposed censorship. Even though the Politburo was secretive, its departments were well known and they had crisp, clear cut names. Worse, the majority of the supposedly educated Americans are so thoroughly brain-cleansed, that all arguments about the futile belief of "free press" are just a hopeless waste of time. If the almighty and supposedly liberal "New York Times" (I don't subscribe to the artificial and inconsequential dichotomy of liberal vs. conservative) holds the publication of damning materials for a year, for fear of retaliation, this speaks louder than having the whole Times Square lined with powerful speakers. You may want to check this Web link: about a real quote from a real American journalist – John Swinton, who lived sometime in the 1880's and whose attitude is crystal clear – "It just ain't there, folks"?

Even though you have clearly stated several times that your only goal in compiling this Leviathan collection of emails and rejection letters was your own amusement, and no ulterior motive, in essence you have done quite the opposite – I am sure you receive tons and tons of raving letters and emails from people like me who are trying to penetrate airtight fortress of Publishing America. Many years ago, while still in my high school in Bulgaria, I read for the first time W.S. Maugham and he had a brilliant thought something like 'you can't love anyone else if you don't love yourself first', so it seems that you have done exactly this by providing your own window to vent and rant against the self-perpetuating idiocy of the publishing world – you are helping a lot of other people without even thinking about it which is really great.

Oh, I don't mean to help any other people at all. Politics is just another of the hundreds of forms of mindless twaddle with which our owners entertain us while they're busy accumulating wealth. Socialist, schmocialist, show me the money. Media and entertainment (including politics) are the same old engrossing gladiatorial games. They pacify slaves and patricians alike, keep them in line, keep their noses to the grindstone, keep them from thinking let alone asking questions like, "Hey, wait a minute, Israel's got a thousand times more military might than Nazi Germany ever's got more nukes and the means to deliver them than all other countries except the US and Russia, so how come we have to spend trillions of dollars to kill and maim and displace five million Arabs in order to make the Middle East safe for Israel?"

The simple answer is that doing so makes more money for more rich guys. Media and entertainment are closed systems. Anything you're allowed to read or see or hear or know is, by definition, fascist propaganda. If you get a book deal or sell a script or write an article for your local newspaper, what you've "created" is fascist propaganda, period. Nothing that doesn't promote, protect and defend the overarching notion of making money and securing The State of Israel at all costs will never see the light of day anywhere in the fascist, totalitarian Empire of America...just like nothing in Nazi Germany or Imperial Rome or Maoist China or Stalinist USSR that didn't comport with "public enlightenment" saw the light of day.

"The War Against Terror" (TWAT) is the latest boxoffice bonanza. It's raking in hundreds of billions of dollars a month in markets all over the world. I'm writing a whole huge book about it; a book that will, of course, never see the light of day...well, not in my lifetime, anyway. Getting it right is giving me fits at the moment, however. I have no idea when or if I'll ever get it done but that doesn't matter, either. Not much does. You'll see. Thanks. G.

July 7, 2007

"I ain't got no phone. I had it pulled 'cause of people callin' all the time. Who needs the aggravation, right? The interruptions."

How cool is it being the world's greatest living writer? Very. If I wrote senseless slop for fame and fortune I'd have to hide out, wear me some fancy sunglasses and run around with an entourage to keep the paparazzi at bay. This way I get nothing but priceless peace and quiet...and the intimation of all that joy my immortal soul's gonna get to have when people finally discover what morons their forefathers and foremothers were. O frabjous day! Here's the e-mail I'm in the middle of sending out to all twenty thousand idiots on my list:

Heh. G.

June 12, 2007

Some guy over in Thailand sent me three hundred bucks 'cause he used my website to help sell a book. Yippee! Lots of people have used my site to help sell lots of books but in six years the amount of money people have given me has been way less than what it's cost just to keep the sucker on a server. Oh, well. I ain't in it for the money, obviously. What I am in it for isn't all that illusive. It's cool to have made two new works of art. If you want to see what I'm talking about, go listen to The Audio Book of Ginny Good or read my novel in progress, The Book of Isaac (Formerly Titled "Ophra Wimsfree and the Mayonnaise Man: How the Love of Money, the Dogma of the Death Camps and the Warriors of Islam Blazed a Trail for Chinese Commie Pinko Rats to Replace Mickey Mouse with Mao Zedong in Forty-nine Years or Less, also sometimes known as What's He to Hecuba?, It's the Eschatology, Stupid and/or Ignorance is Blitzkrieg"). They're both totally slick and the second one's not even close to being done yet. People get to watch the greatest literary artist of the 21st Century at work. Damn. The website is a sideshow but I'm glad it was worth three hundred bucks to some guy over in Thailand. Thanks! G.

June 7, 2007

My baby sister's birfday!

I'm sick of talking so here's a rehash of why I stuck up this stupid website in the first place (however many millions of years ago that was):

1) I don't care whether wannabe "writers" waste their time kissing up to agents, editors, publishers and movie guys or not; I care about doing what I want to do and saying what I want to say.

2) Ginny Good is easily the best book of literary nonfiction published anywhere in the world so far this century and all my other books which aren't published yet and aren't bloody likely to ever get published during my lifetime, are just as good.

3) Making a free, integrated, two thousand page text and fifteen hour audio extravaganza that's gonna get itself a Nobel Peace Prize and a Nobel Prize for Literature after I'm dead is sort of a slick thing to have done.

4) Fifty years from now it's gonna be fun to see a list of fifteen thousand worthless, gutless, money-grubbing goons who call themselves lit and talent agents, editors, publishers, movie guys, book critics and sundry other morons in the media and entertainment industries who ignored, dismissed, badmouthed, shunned, despised, rejected, poo-pooed, belittled and otherwise demeaned the single work of literary art in all history that ever won a Nobel Prize for both Peace and Literature. Heh.

Gerard: ...Even though you started this adventure with the idea of getting your book published, you may not realize it but you provided a much more valuable service in listing contact info on agents, publishers, and producers. As for that book of yours, you might want to tone down the "best book in any century" stuff if you seriously want to see it made into a movie. Authors need to be confident but not go too far with this. It's like a guy walking down the street who says to you, "I'm the toughest guy in the world, wanna fight me?" You're gonna be a little leary (sic) of that guy. But if he more casually tells you that he's one of the toughest guys in the world, he might convince you of it...

Why would I want to convince anyone of anything? Res ipsa loquitur. The website and all my other stuff (with the exception of Ginny Good which was published in 2004 and retails for seventeen bucks) is free. I didn't say "the best book in any century" I said "
easily the best book of literary nonfiction published anywhere in the world so far this century" and that's just true—go read it or listen to it for free and see. I think the books are way more valuable than the silly website, but what do I know? I'm not a wanna be "writer." Thanks. G.

May 26, 2007

An expanded interview just got did on me by Steven Augustine after he found out that parts of The Book of Isaac were "anti-Semitic." I know myself fairly well and I know I'm pretty realistic and not very anti-Semitic at all, but plenty of people seem to think I'm not very realistic at all and pretty anti-Semitic. It's silly and senseless and stupid and boring to write easy, useless books, books that don't offend anyone, books that parrot the party line and subvert free speech and a free press, books that deny the fact that we all live in a complete police state, in short, books that sell. I rag on some Jews, sure, but I rag way more on rich, white, corporate fascist thugs who count on Jews in media and entertainment to do their propaganda for them. The guys I rag on, Jews and non-Jews alike, personify a culture that values money above all things; it's the culture that sickens and offends me, not the poor dolts who fall for the crap the culture consists of.

Ginny Good was about the triumph of family over sex and drugs and rock-and-roll in the sixties and seventies. The Book of Isaac is about the triumph of love over money in 21st Century America. People will probably mistake its underlying theme for mere anti-Semitism. Oh, well. It's not my fault people are stupid. I'd wise 'em up if I could, but I can't; all I can do is write stuff the way I want it written. If nobody reads it, whose loss is that? Not mine. I know the last thing you wanna do is piss off a bunch of Jews in media and entertainment if you wanna be a "real" writer. "Real" writers fall all over themselves kissing up to "real" agents and "real" editors and "real" publishers and "real" movie guys and "real" book critics but what everybody seems to forget is that what "real" means these days is "inept, insipid, moneygrubbing schlock." I'm just a sucker for lost causes, I
and Jimmy Stewart. Heh.

Anyone with any brains will see that there's nothing
"anti-Semitic" about anything in the whole book. It's all pretty much just the truth, but if you've been brainwashed from birth to believe a bunch of Judeo-Christian, jackbooted, jingoistic bullshit that keeps you a snivelling slave boy or a snivelling slave girl, the truth is gonna have a foreign sound to your ear. Read some and see. Start at the beginning if you're so inclined, but if you want to go straight to the "anti-Semitic" stuff, click this.

You can see the whole expanded interview and plenty more about Steven Augustine, including lots of his exquisite writing, if you poke around the rest of his site:

IntraView #1: Gerard Jones

April 28, 2007

Book review boys and girls are getting all het up about newspapers getting rid of book reviews, calling it the new book burning. Ha! It's book review boys and girls, themselves, who are burning books by choosing to review only those books that suck up to the corporate goons who decide what brave, free Americans are allowed to read and what they're not allowed to read. Brave, free Americans are allowed to read nothing but money-grubbing drivel that supports, protects and defends the ghoulish notion of making money at all costs. If a book is reviewed by a bona fide book critic, that book was published by a big publisher for the sole purpose of making money and is therefore by definition not worth reading, writing, reviewing or publishing. Show me a single exception to that rule and I'll eat it. Book review boys and girls are victims of their own hype, that's all. Why I even bother to dick with 'em, I do not know. Me and some smart Russian chick just had this e-mail chat:

Me: Here's a Russian Literature chapter for you:

ssRc: It's mesmerizing. Thank you! Yesterday I was listening to another excerpt from your book with the same joy. Whose voice is it? He reads it so well it sounds like poetry sometimes and it conveys the beauty and power of your language. Most importantly, it plays masterfully, but very softly, with the depths of your subtext. The whole thing is very visual.

Me: It's my voice. I made the whole thing all on my own and didn't have a clue what I was doing. Here's my favorite chapter. It's got some Russians in it, too.

ssRc: The excerpt you sent me was the same excerpt I was listening to last night. I was fascinated then. I listened to it again today. It's poetry - the whole thing. Your images grow from each other, expanding and turning into something else, like the ever-living picture of a self-developing universe. And your stylistics - the rhythm, the music, the repetition of words and segments – are in harmony with the enchanting pictures. No wonder the major agents and publishers didn't take your novel! Have you ever heard of a Russian writer Gogol? He lived in 19 century. He always said that he could write a novel about the door or the floor, the plot as such didn't matter to him. The plot for his famous novel, Dead Souls, was suggested to him by a Russian poet, Pushkin. But regardless of its seemingly adventurous story the novel was a pure poem. Gogol even subtitled it "a poem." Nabokov was very much in love with his style and followed the same poetic path in his own short stories and novels. His Lolita was different, though. Was it Borodin's Prince Igor that you used several times for the excerpt?

Me: That was a tricky chapter to write. It was Prince Igor, yeah, and the other was Rite of Spring snippets. I read a bunch of Gogol when I was a kid and more Nabokov but I don't read anything anymore 'cause I'd rather write stuff than read stuff. Nobokov lived a few blocks away from where I live now while he was working on Lolita. I don't worry about what publishers want to publish and don't want to publish. Their only criterion is whether something might make money or not. That's a stupid criterion. Here's the father chapter. He died in 1990. Whoa, I almost wrote 2000. Seems like yesterday. G.

The Audio Book of Ginny Good, didn't get reviewed by any so-called bona fide book critic. You wanna know why? I'll tell you why. 'Cause it's free, like me, that's why. Heh. G.

April 7, 2007

It was my mother's birthday yesterday. She's 89. I took her golfing with Wallace and Bergeron. Wallace gave her a homemade card and Bergeron brought her a Cadbury Egg. My dad always gave her a Cadbury Egg for Easter. She drove a golf cart all over creation, finding flowers and ducks and redwing blackbirds and clapped when Wallace got birdies on the first two holes. She said she was gonna clap when I made that putt on number four, but I missed it.

January 28, 2007

I get lots of e-mails from grown men and women who think they're "writers" or think they want to be "writers." Oh, my gosh, what an odd thing to want to be. I don't mind the ones who truly believe that they have something worth saying to say, the poor deluded darlings, it's the ones who are looking for a "career" as a writer that puke me out. Nobody but a blockhead writes anything worth writing except for free. Some of the guys who send me e-mails want me to critique their ass-kisser query letters about drug kingpins with hearts of gold and fashionable, down-to-earth, suburban vampire babes, then go on to describe their work as the greatest thing since Stephen King. They're probably right, it might even be greater than Stephen King, if you can imagine such a thing. Oh, my stars and garters.

There are plenty of good writers around, I get e-mails from them, too, but no good writer has the slightest hope in hell of ever making any money at all, let alone "earning a living" as a writer. The two are mutually exclusive. You're either a good writer or you make money writing pusillanimous, derivative hogwash that some chicken-hearted agent, editor or publisher thinks might make him or her a quick pile of cheap money. Anything anyone pays you to write is propaganda for the all-pervasive police state, period. If you think you don't live in a complete police state, you're crazy. You do. Just 'cause you vote every now and again doesn't mean you don't live in a total totalitarian police state. If you don't know that the "political process" is an inane, superfluous, nonstop, poorly written, sloppily directed soap opera put on by the media and entertainment industries to keep you stupid, the political process is doing its job.

Media and entertainment is the police state. Only propaganda specifically approved by the media and entertainment industries ever gets reviewed, publicized or proliferated in any way. That excludes anything worth reading or writing, of course, but includes a prodigious amount of preposterous, escapist, money-grubbing slop. Anything worth reading or writing is a threat to the police state. The preposterous, escapist, money-grubbing slop the media and entertainment industries peddle gets people to police themselves for free and, at the same time, makes 'em think they live in a democracy. What a racket. Where was Arthur Sulzberger when Stalin needed someone to run the Committee for State Security?

What you get out of writing something worth reading or writing isn't a bogus, cynical, trumped-up, profit-driven "book award" or a big advance or going on Oprah or talking to some twit on the radio or seeing your name in lights or whatever other bunch of superficial, ill-considered media hype you get conned into thinking you get, no, what you get out of writing something worth reading or writing is writing something worth reading and writing. Virtue is its own reward. You get to crack yourself up; you get to know who you are; you get to say what you have to say the way you want it to be said and you get to see what it is when you're done. If you get it published, you get to go read it at a bookstore or in a library. If you make it into a free, fifteen hour audio book, you get to listen to it any time you want. That's it, that's all you get. Well, except for the occasional fan letter.

Who's gonnna pay you to know yourself? Nobody with any brains, that's who. Anyone with any brains is gonna be busy getting to know himself or herself, not looking for ways to avoid knowing himself or herself. Writing's fun. It's a smart, cool way to stay smart and cool. Speaking of which, I just changed the title of my new book again. Now I'm calling it The Book of Isaac. Go see. Or not. Thanks. G.

January 20, 2007

So how are all the willing slave boys and willing slave girls in the Empire of America doing this fine morning? Looking forward to being entertained by your owners again this weekend? Oh, I hope so. What do you think they've got in store? More football and basketball? Are you gonna eat Doritos and root, root, root for your home team gladiator slaves? Maybe do some shopping? Buy some of the thirteen trillion dollars worth of useless junk your owners need you to buy so they can afford to own you? Get yourselves swept away by movie star slaves prancing through the preposterous movies and TV shows your owners get producer slaves and director slaves and writer slaves to make up for you? See what the best and brightest political slaves have to say? Barak and Hillary and McCain and Mitt? What fun! Which do you find more entertaining, NFL playoffs, presidential politics or the new American Idol? CNN has a poll. Go vote. Participate. Time-Warner went to all the trouble and expense of getting Wolf Blitzer and Larry King to publicize your opinion. Do you have any idea what lucky slave boys and slave girls you are? Why would you want free speech or a free press? Don't you know your owners know what's best? The New York Times and The Washington Post and The New Yorker tell you what's best. Freedom? Liberty? Democracy? Pfssh. Shut up and do what you're told to do like the willing little slave boys and willing little slave girls you are. Believe what you're told to believe, buy what you're told to buy, see, hear and say what you're told to see, hear and say, kill who you're told to kill. Who else is gonna import Mexicans to do all those nasty jobs you don't want to do? You don't need anything worth reading or writing to read or write, right? You've got it all. Your owners see to your every whim. Trust them.

I sort of figured out the whole mess with my ISP not letting me send e-mail. I can send e-mail for the moment but I still don't know why I was blocked from sending e-mail in the first place other than that a bunch of secret, unidentified, undisclosed people falsely reported that I was sending "spam," which is a total crock. Oh, well, when you live in a police state it's best not to cause needless trouble. The reason Dachau was fist constructed in Nazi Germany was to lock up people who disagreed with Hitler. Carry on. G.

January 14, 2007

Some guy sent me an e-mail this morning that started out: "OK, you bastard, I've looked in at your website before and of course I was impressed by your lack of restraint. This time around, I stopped to read a few pages of your latest, the Oprah thing. Look, what sort of message do you think you're sending old guys like me who think they can write? If you can write like that, and not find a real publisher, where the hell do we get off?" He went on and on for awhile, then pointed out: "If you were selling a million copies a year right now, you wouldn't write as you do and we wouldn't have the benefit of it."

"Yeah," I told him. "'Failure' beats 'success' any day. If I were Dan Brown or Robert Stone I would long ago have choked to death on my own vomit." Then I told him some other things:

"A bunch of stuff worth reading and writing gets written but not read 'cause people only read what gets hyped and what gets hyped is nothing but sickeningly stupid, money-grubbing schlock, fatuous political folderol and celebrity twaddle."

"I'm perfectly happy with the design and production of the book Monkfish made out of Ginny Good. They did distribution and a little publicity, too, but the main thing I'm happy about is that it got published exactly the way I wanted it published."

"I thought it would sell more copies than it did, but I learned a lot by it not having sold many copies...things like, 'Lord, what fools these mortals be!'"

"The free fifteen hour audio book I produced all on my own is the best, most authentic, new work of literary art ever made. I don't have anything else to prove. Nobody but me is ever gonna listen to the sucker, but so what?"

"The Oprah book I'm still fiddling with and have no clue when it will be done. I'm a great believer in serendipity. Kismet, too. I took a writing class once. Here's a story about it."

I still haven't gotten the whole mess with my ISP not letting me send e-mail sorted out. Some bunch of secret, unidentified, undisclosed people falsely reported that I was sending "spam." That's a total crock. Those people, whoever they may be, are lying. They're defaming me and doing all kinds of other tortious stuff. They should be ashamed of themselves. I've never sent anyone an e-mail that wasn't implicitly or explicitly solicited, nor was it (or should it have been) unwanted. Naturally, if the moron who got the e-mail was too stupid for words, anything he or she sees is gonna look like spam, but whose fault is that? Not mine. The e-mails I send aren't commercial. They're not sent in any fraudulent or automated way. I've never sent an e-mail to anyone who has requested that I NOT send him or her an e-mail. The contents of any e-mail I've ever sent is flat-out truthful. I don't lie. Just 'cause some deceitful, money-grubbing twit who wouldn't know the truth if it bit him or her on the ass didn't bother to read it or didn't believe what my e-mail said, doesn't mean it's not true. I only send e-mails to professional, commercial, corporate, publicly advertised e-mail addresses and I've never sent more than two or three e-mails to any one person during the course of at least a year—usually less frequently than that 'cause I've got other more worthwhile fish to fry.

So why does my ISP keep blocking my outgoing e-mail? They get secret, lying, tortious complaints from secret, lying, chicken-hearted twits who think ignorance is bliss, that's why. Besides, my e-mail address is blacklisted by most every media and entertainment outlet in the US, UK and Canada, anyway. I could use a different e-mail account and send stuff from the library or from some other computer in case the poor, insecure little darlings have my IP blocked. They probably do. The giddy, giggly, superfluous, snippy twits on my little lists will go to any lengths to keep everyone else as ignorant as they are...and that's the truth. Oh, well. Whether I want to keep trying to enlighten them or not, I haven't made up my mind yet. G.

January 10, 2007

I was peacefully minding my own business, blissfully listening to my beautiful free audio book and sending this e-mail to people on my little lists when my ISP blocked my account because my e-mail had been "identified" as "spam."

"Who decides what's spam," I asked.

"The community," I was told.

Who "the community" is, however, is a secret. My e-mail is a work of art. Go read it and see. I'm in the middle of sending it to people who advertise themselves as media and entertainment executives and who, as such, have or should have a compelling interest in (1) the greatest book published anywhere in the world in the first decade of the 21st Century, (2) the best audio book ever made and (3) one of the few worthwhile books that will be published anywhere in the world in the second decade of the 21st Century. Any media or entertainment guy worth his or her salt ought to be jumping for joy to get such vital information all in one elegant e-mail, but apparently some of them considered such information to be "spam," complained to my ISP and my e-mail account was blocked.

ISPs can do that. Sending e-mail is a "free" service, independent of the money you pay them every month and, as such, is subject to whatever bogus reason they may come up with to cut it off. I learned that from a customer service rep after being compelled to listen to upwards of half-an-hour of unsolicited, unwanted and not particularly pleasant advertising. Nobody wants spam, least of all me, and I applaud the efforts to lessen it, but valid, germane, articulate, carefully and appropriately directed content in the body of an e-mail can't arbitrarily be construed as spam just because a few people who obviously didn't read the thing decided to complain about it. Not true, it turns out. There's this "community," see, and "it" can complain without any justification whatsoever that you're sending "spam" and your ISP will block your e-mail account. Habeas corpus doesn't exist. The accusation itself is judge, jury and executioner. That sort of sucks. Talk about a chilling effect, yikes. Thanks. G.


November 16, 2006

Here's what some Hollywood guy told me the other day and what I told him back:

Hey Gerard, I finally finished Ginny. It left me with images and thoughts that I am glad to have. It was beautifully written, funny, tragic, hallucinogenic and generally right up my alley. I am saddened by its lack of recognition. Having finished it I feel like I know you. even though I don't. Ginny feels like a French movie. (I mean by pace and the way they handle the human spirit so much better than we do.) If I can make a difference with it from my "Hollywood connections" it would be most rewarding on a personal level. I don't mean money. I mean other things that last longer. I hope you are well.

The thing about writing the book you wanted to write and getting it published the way you wanted it published is that you've done what you wanted to do. Whoo-hoo! What other people want to do is their business. Making it into the audio book I wanted it made into was the icing on the cake. Anything anyone else wants to do with it they'll do for their own exquisite reasons...or not. I'm pretty much out of the loop. Well, except to bitch and piss and moan about the giddy, giggly twits and self-aggrandizing morons who run the media and entertainment industries when the mood strikes me. Thanks. G.

October 26, 2006

When I was sixteen going on seventeen my grandmother gave me a book called THE ADVERSARY by Konrad Herndon. It was published by Exposition Press, one of the few vanity, subsidy publishers around at the time. It was a great book—500 pages, all poetry, skinny poetry, fat poetry, long, short, lyric, blank verse, sonnets, rhyming, not rhyming, you name it—about a guy having a fight with God. I don't remember who won, but the various episodes and battles and struggles and skirmishes old Konrad was having with God seemed to be what mattered...well, to me anyway. I carried it around with me for years but lost it in 1962 and can't find any references to it on the Internet...wait, wait, it's in The Library of Congress! Yippee! (The Adversary;: An Account of Human and Divine, Konrad Herndon, 1956, Exposition Press.) Having read it has stuck with me. It didn't make any money, obviously. In fact, it cost the guy money to get the thing published. My grandmother found it on a remainder table and bought it for less than a dollar. Poor Konrad's gotta be way dead by now. "A penny for the Old Guy."

But the point, what is the point? This whole humongo website is the point, I guess. It hasn't made any money. In fact, it's cost me money, lots, so that can't be the point. You can read more about the point by clicking some links and letting 'em take you where they take you. I just added a bunch of booksellers. Here's the e-mail I sent 'em:

They all ignored it, of course, being the ignorant ignoramuses that the rest of the fifteen thousand ignorant ignoramuses on my little list are. Oh, well. Maybe in fifty years some old guy will remember looking at my website or listening to a chapter or two of my free, fifteen hour audio book or reading my Oprah book when he was a kid and look Ginny Good up in the Library of Congress. How slick would that be? Way slick. Well, you know, if anyone has any use for a Library of Congress by then. Maybe they'll change it to The Library of Innocuous Drivel, Propaganda and Public Ignorance. Heh. G.

October 15, 2006

Hey, boys and girls, I just got done pursuing my folly even more by sending this new e-mail out to all fifteen thousand brain-dead, snake-hearted media and entertainment executives on my little lists and became even wiser...if anyone can imagine such a thing! What I learned didn't surprise me but it was still pretty impossible to believe. What I learned was that somehow during the last twenty years, the entirety of so-called Western Civilization got itself taken over lock, stock and barrel by an unendurable bunch of ugly, scummy, diseased, retarded, Godforsaken, back-stabbing liars and cheats. If you think you're an exception, you're wrong, you're not, nobody is...well, except maybe for me and my monkey. The whole sad story of how that all happened might be what my next book is gonna end up being about. It's still too soon to tell, but that would sure be something worth writing about. Talk about a generation of vipers, yeow. G.

September 2, 2006

Man, this is gonna be my last rant for a long, long time. Agents, editors, publishers and movie makers do their best to do two things: (1) make money and (2) rot your brain. Period. The ones who are marginally competent still have jobs. It's as plain as the nose on anyone's face that there exists a modern-day equivalent of The Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda which proliferates the "content" ordinary consumers accept as worthwhile information. Agents, editors, publishers and movie makers are a minor part of that ministry. Nothing that some dork doesn't think will make money will ever get produced, published or promoted and only stuff that rots your brain makes money. Marketing is all that matters. The more you spend on advertising of one sort or another, the more money a book or a movie or a political candidate...or a box of chocolate or a back hoe will make. It's a two-bird, one-stone equation: making money is what's important, sure, but if your brain's not rotten, you won't buy the junk that gets itself advertised.

"Bestsellers" are "worthwhile," per se, no matter how stupid they may be—in fact, the stupider they are the better they "sell" and the more "worthwhile" they become. Talk about a vicious circle, yikes...and the morons who write, produce, publish and promote the acres and acres of obscene, preposterous, money-grubbing, fear-mongering, comic book claptrap and obsequious crap have the temerity to pat themselves on the back and pass themselves off as guardians of a civilized society. Oh, well.

I wrote, produced, directed and am promoting the greatest literary achievement of the 21st Century but nobody's ever gonna pay any attention to it 'cause I'm giving it away for free...which is part of what makes it the greatest literary achievement of the 21st Century. Ha! Thinking you're not brainwashed is part of being brainwashed; if you know you are, you're not. The people in Nazi Germany...and lots of people in the rest of the world at the time...thought Hitler and Goebbels were doing a bang-up job. If I'd been there I wouldn't have thought so...and would have said as much...and would, no doubt, have been excoriated for my trouble:

"When they came for me, there was no one left to speak out."

I don't like Nazis. Nazis don't like me. They put me on blacklists, ignore my work, call me mean names and try to get me down into the holes they're in. Big whoop. See no good, hear no good, speak no good...that's the ticket. People in "rich" countries think the modern-day Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda is doing a bang-up job. And it is! More and more money's made and more and more minds rot every day. Yippee!

August 15, 2006

Anyone stupid enough to PAY an agent for ANYTHING before his or her book gets SOLD is too stupid to write anything worth reading or writing and deserves to get ripped-off. If I got rid of all the "suspect" agents and publishers on my little list it would be a very, very skimpy list, indeed. If you really wanna whine about agents or if you get off on being a cop, go see the hundreds of places "writers" go to whine about what evil lurks in the hearts of "scam" literary agents and "scam" book publishers. Try Ms. Snark, she's at least a little funny here and there. The fact is there's no such thing as a "scam" agent or a "scam" publisher; there's only stupid "writers." Don't be one. How simple is that? How soon would every so-called "scammer" go out of business if nobody gave 'em any money? If you have to pay someone to read your stuff, your stuff sucks. Ask Random House.

Flannery O'Connor said: "Everywhere I go, I'm asked if the universities stifle writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them." She also said: "...a serious writer would gladly swap 100 readers now for 10 readers in 10 years or one reader in 100 years."

Soneone in an e-mail said: "Lord, Gerry, can't you leave the Nazi part out?" I said: "Propaganda is obviously the operative word but it's been my overwhelming experience that there exists a 'Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda' that's way more pervasive and unassailable than anything Joseph Goebbels had at his disposal and I honestly can't think of a better word. Sorry. I wish I could. You think of one. I never have been too good with words. What are they gonna do? Blacklist me?"

Someone else in another e-mail said: "What if you found a publisher to put out GINNY GOOD in Modern Library form? Do you think that will aid public perception?" I answered: "Sure. Public perception is a idiot. Publishing is packaging. People buy hype, period. But it's The Audio Book of Ginny Good that's the greatest literary achievement of the 21st Century and nobody's gonna listen to the whole fifteen hour thing unless it gets hyped and it ain't gonna get hyped 'cause nobody's gonna pay to hype it 'cause there's no money in it for anyone. It's free. That's part of what makes it the greatest literary achievement, etc. Tricky times we live in, you and me. History's gonna have a field day trying to figure it all out. No Modern Library guy's gonna publish the sucker, anyway...well, not for another decade or two."

August 6, 2006

I've been having an e-mail exchange with a guy named Mike Magnuson. He wrote some books, thinks he's smarter than me and has a fellatio fetish.

Here's some of what I was doing before you were born. G.

I'm 43 years old. How old are you? And what do you for a living? Trust fund? Paperboy? Magnuson

Oh, oh, that's my favorite question. Here's how old I am:

And here's what I do for a living:

I aspire to be a paperboy. G.

What I really don't understand is why you'd want to piss off writers by calling them Nazis and parts of a machine, et cetera, when in fact everybody knows they don't have any power in publishing. Shit. You're straying from the way you made your bones—your website; not your book—and you will make more enemies than me in the process. But hey, do as you wish. Magnuson

I'll tell you why. Writers are pussy punks who let themselves get pushed around by the giddy twits who do have power in publishing. Who could possibly give a rat's ass about a writer who seeks to gain some fleeting notoriety as defined by giddy, money-grubbing agents, editors and publishers at the expense of his or her own immortal soul? Go listen to what Faulkner had to say about it sixty years ago:

Or what Plato and Jesus and Lao-Tzu had to say about it a million years ago. My book and my other books are my only interest...the website is an adjunct. I only piss off people who piss me off first...mainly by showing themselves to be the Nazis they are. If all you're exposed to is sniveling Nazi propaganda, all you're gonna be or do or say or write is sniveling Nazi drivel. And you're gonna get praised for it. People are gonna say: "Wow, what a good little Nazi you are! Here, here's money for you. Here's a Pulitzer. Here's a National Book Award. Come on Oprah, why don't you? Let's make a movie out of your Nazi drivel. Write more sniveling Nazi drivel. Brave, free Americans eat it up." It's a closed system. If you don't write sniveling Nazi drivel nobody's ever gonna hear what you have to say...but you won't be a Nazi, you won't lose your soul, and that's compensation enough for me. G.

August 1, 2006

Man, I'm pissing myself off...I'm not gonna be done with this sucker 'til September 'cause I keep adding a bunch of stupid stuff like Lit Bloggers and Publicists and "Creative" Writing Teachers. They're all part of the All-Pervasive, Money-Grubbing Nazi Media and Entertainment Network, however, so what other choice do I have? No other choice, that's what other choice.

July 26, 2006

When I got home from playing golf yesterday I got in the mail a "certified, return-receipt requested" letter from a lawyer in Bryan J. Freedman, to be precise, a graduate of Cal Berkeley and, be still my heart, McGeorge School of Law. It wasn't a bad letter as letters from lawyers go; I worked for lawyers for awhile, so I know. And it cost him $4.64 to send the sucker. Of course I was flattered that a guy who was recognized by his peers as a Southern California Super Lawyers Rising Star in 2004 would spend such an exorbitant amount of money to send me a letter...hey, who wouldn't be? The gist of Bryan's letter is as follows:

Accordingly, (United Talent Agency, Inc.) requests that you kindly remove from the Website all contact information pertaining to UTA and its agents, including, but not limited to names, addresses, telephone numbers, e-mail addresses and website information. In the alternative, if you choose to maintain such contact information on the Website, UTA requests that you inform people accessing the Website that by sending unsolicited materials, UTA will not read them and may never consider them in the future because such materials were initially unsolicited.

Yo! Bryan! I choose Number Two. "People" may consider themselves informed. I'm sure Joseph Goebbels and the Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda had a similar policy. Old Joe didn't need no lawyers, though, he had a bunch of them nice young fellows in the brown shirts to do his dirty work...some of whom may even have gotten the equivalent of a JD from the equivalent of McGeorge School of Law. That's in Sacramento, isn't it? Oh, yeah.

July 23, 2006

When I started making my little list of a few thousand agents and editors four years ago I had no idea what I was doing or why I was doing it but "the fool who pursues his folly becomes wise" and now I've figured it out. Me and Sisyphus, baby. Not 'cause I like pushing a rock to the top of a mountain just to see it roll back down again but because when I get the sucker up there I get to relax for awhile...with the rock going neither up nor down, balanced. It's during those brief moments that I listen to The Audio Book of Ginny Good and send an e-mail out to each and every one of the fifteen thousand agents, editors, publishers, movie and media guys who ignored and/or rejected the greatest work of art of the 21st Century, letting them know in my own sly way what Nazi morons they are...which, needless to say, does wonders to soothe my sinsick soul. G.

July 16, 2006

I was thinking about hearts and minds this morning—that's where the battle is, after all—and, don't look now, but we've lost. If you don't know who "we" are, you're one of the ones who've won. Yippee for you. You lost your heart and your mind to a bunch of Nazi thugs a long, long time ago and that, according to the Nazi propaganda you've been fed all your life, makes you a "winner." It's not your fault that you don't know right from wrong, good from bad, black from white, etc., the Nazi propaganda network is all-pervasive. Nobody can get a word in edgewise. There wasn't much dissent in Germany before World War Two, either. That's what Nazi propaganda networks do...they see to it that they're the only game in town, then they make up your mind for you and make up your heart for you. Yeah, sure, any Nazi propaganda network worth its salt will let you think there's a little controversy here and there, will let you think you're making "choices," but that's simply not the case. Whatever you choose doesn't matter—for the war, against the war; for the Redskins, for the Cowboys; for a Democrat or a Republican, there's not a whit of difference between the two. You'll never be given a "real" choice. That's the way Nazi propaganda networks work. Whatever choices you make, you put your money where your mouth is. You consume. You make the rich richer. That's your function. That's what matters. Nor does it matter what you consume, how putrid or puerile or stupid or worthless it might be, as long as it doesn't challenge the Nazi propaganda network, itself...buying is buying, consuming is consuming. It's all good. So what if you turn the vast majority of the rest of the world into one big death camp, there's money to be made...and spent...and made again and spent again, over and over. If you make money you're a winner. You're a good little Nazi. You make your parents proud. You get to lord it over all those poor, unfortunate buggers who live in the death camps your owners own. "For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" Don't ask me, Jack, ask them Nazis who own your ass. If you wanna know what it's like to be free, to not have your heart and your mind owned and operated by Nazi thugs, go listen to this:

Independence Day, 2006

If people had any brains they'd declare independence from the purveyors of propaganda who have established an absolute Tyranny over them, but people don't have any brains. They like being spoon-fed Nazi propaganda from the day they're born to the day they die. They fall for it. They "vote" and think they've given their consent to be governed by the ghouls who own the pinheads who "govern" them. What a crock. The rich get rich and the poor get poorer. Democracy is a distraction, mere sport, entertainment to keep your mind off the fact that you're a worm making silk. Gobble up the movies and the news and the books your Nazi owners let you have and know that nothing you ever say will ever be heard unless it's Nazi propaganda. Independence, ha! To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world, go listen to a real work of art, for starters:

You won't, of course. You only pay attention to the Nazi propaganda you're told to pay attention to. You think if you do what your Nazi owners want you to do that maybe someday you'll get some regurgitation of your Nazi propaganda put on the Nazi propaganda network. How super would that be? Maybe you'll get a Nazi prize, a Nazi Pulitzer or a Nazi National Book Award or a Nazi Oscar. Your owners will give you Nazi money, too. Yippee! You can spend it on more Nazi propaganda and send your kids to Nazi schools so they, too, can say what good little Nazis they are! You could declare your independence, sure, but you won't. You've been a Nazi too long. It's too comfortable, too safe, too secure. Oh, well. That's the way your Nazi owners like it. Yikes. I gotta go eat brave, free homemade baked beans.

June 24, 2006

I'm about due for a new rant. Them Mearsheimer Walt guys ragged on AIPAC and got themselves excoriated for their trouble but at least Brian Lamb will now allow you to say the word "Jew" in public. Yippee! Ragging on AIPAC is child's play. It's politics. Mere sport. Entertainment. The way things work in America these days is that entertainment is the only thing that matters. We're fat, complacent, morally and spiritually bankrupt and need desperately to be entertained at all costs at all times. The most popular, all-consuming form of entertainment is making money for the sake of making money, of course. Rich guys entertain themselves by getting richer. That's the only game in town. Everything else—sports, politics, religion, war, movies, TV, books, news, you name it—is money-grubbing Nazi propaganda disguised as "entertainment" to make sure the rich get richer and "brave, free" Americans stay stupid, brainwashed slaves...stupid, brainwashed slaves, yes, but entertained, entertained...calloh, callay!

Two soldiers got their heads cut off in Iraq. How barbaric! How monstrous! A hundred thousand unarmed Muslims got their heads blow off, along with their arms and legs and feet and fingers, by five-hundred pound bombs and fifty caliber cannon fire...shock and awe, baby! Let's hear it for the Army and the Navy and the Air Force and the Marines! Israel has more nuclear weapons and delivery systems than China but if Iran wants to make a little enriched uranium to run nuclear power plants in ten years or so all holy hell breaks loose. Iran is a signatory to the nuclear nonproliferation treaty. Israel isn't. Oy, vey.

If you tell the truth in America you get blacklisted. You can say anything you want, sure—free speech, a free press and all that—but what you say will never be heard or read by anyone unless it "conforms to the parameters" of the money-grubbing Nazi propaganda machine, i.e., 1) making the rich richer, 2) protecting and defending the State of Israel at all costs and 3) keeping the money-grubbing Nazi propaganda machine firmly in control of the hearts and minds of ordinary Americans. Ordinary Americans are the ones you make your money off of, after don't want to kill the silly geese who go around laying golden eggs. You do those three things and you're okay; don't do 'em and you're dead. I have proof.

The Audio Book of Ginny Good is the best new work of literary art made this century but nobody will ever get to hear it 'cause it doesn't "conform to the parameters" of the money-grubbing Nazi propaganda machine. It won't make the rich richer 'cause it's free. Like me...and unlike any other writer you're ever going to be "allowed" to read by the "overseers" who control what the slaves of America get to know. If you have something worth saying to say, say it clearly and aren't full of shit nobody will ever read what you write or hear what you say. If you want to win a bunch of prizes for literary merit or Oscars or Emmys and make a lot of money and get "consumed" by fat, complacent, morally and spiritually bankrupt American consumers, you have to have nothing worth saying to say, say it in an "entertaining" way and be full of shit. Those are the rules. Go by 'em or get blacklisted.

June 17, 2006

Happy, happy birthday to me. Now go listen to the rest of the greatest new work of literary art made this century:

June 10, 2006

While he may have achieved some modicum of fleeting fame as the guy who answers e-mails at Doonesbury, in the long run David Stanford will forever be mostly known as the editor of Ginny Good and for clarifying this sentence in Chapter Twenty-three: "A little hippie chick in granny glasses threw a stick for the Golden Retriever to chase through the purple haze of dope and patchouli oil that was rising up like the Jimi Hendrix song playing on the little hippie chick's little hippie radio."

May 23, 2006

I saw John Updike talking on BookTV at BEA the other night about how, despite his weird economic anti-Semitism, Ezra Pound was a pretty cool poet. Then Sam Tanenhaus, the twerp editor of The New York Times Book Review, talked about how it was his job to sell the best book reviews to publishers who buy the most advertising. "See here," Sammy says to Susie Moldow at Simon & Schuster, "the more you pay us to say your shitty books aren't shitty the less shitty we'll say they are. Deal or no deal?" Oy, vey. And for pointing that out, I'll no doubt get called some kind of weird economic and Ezra, yes!

May 6, 2006

I gotta go do a big golfing tournament in fifteen minutes. Movie guys are a pain in the ass. Here's an interview I did yesterday that talks about what I mean by the word "Nazi" and some other links:

Me and Dennis Johnson talking on MobyRadio

The Audio Book and Video Book of Ginny Good

Picture of Starry-Eyed Me Reading a Book

I'm sick of ragging on the ignorant Nazi morons who run the Nazi media business and the Nazi entertainment industry at the moment. What do I care? People get what they deserve. If you want to be brainwashed by Nazi propaganda all your life, if that's what makes you happy, hey, go for it. I made the best work of literary art ever made. That made me happy. To each his or her own.

April 23, 2006

If I ever "won" a Pultzer Prize (or any of the other creepy awards they pass out to people who parrot the dogma the powers that be want shoved down your stupid throats) I'd know I'd written a preposterous pile of putrid puke. Oh, yes, let's all be paperback writers...make it longer, change it 'round. It can make a million for you overnight. With enough hype black becomes white. We all just adore living in a Nazi, fascist, book-burning, thought executing, totalitarian police state. Well, some of us don't but we're a cringing minority. Might makes right. Power comes from the barrel of a gun. The sword is the pen.

April 11, 2006

"Then they came for me, and by that time no one was left to speak up."

We the slavish sycophants of the United States, in order to form a more lopsided union, establish injustice, insure the accumulation and preservation of ghoulish individual and corporate wealth, provide for the unquestionable support, protection and defense of the State of Israel at any cost, deny the general welfare of the other six billion people on the planet, and secure the blessings of some conglomeration of self-serving hogwash we call "God" to our owners and their besotted posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the Empire of America. Ha! Or, more succinctly: order that the rich get rich, the poor get poorer and we get fun fun fun 'til our daddy takes the t-bird away...yikes.

Do you have any idea how superfluous politics is? Who's in? Who's out? What some goon at CNN has to say about it? It's mere entertainment. It's the tune you dance to when you sing about what a treat it is to beat your feet on the Mississippi mud, "Hey, hey, Uncle Dud..." Do you have any idea what slaves you are? What good little Nazis? What dutiful fascists? How totalitarian the state is that you either wholeheartedly fall for or die of starvation and neglect in the gutter? The German people under Hitler were far more "free" than ignorant Americans under the monolithic entertainment and media propaganda machine that will not allow a single ray of truth or beauty or light to escape from the black hole of money-grubbing mediocrity and blind allegiance to the State of Israel.

We don't mind killing and maiming countless towelheads and gooks to keep "our people" entertained. And when tens of thousands of the "brave servicemen and women" we've put "in harm's way" get themselves killed or maimed, all the better. We can trot them out at baseball games and show off their missing limbs, watch their mothers and fathers weep for them, feel compassion, feel justified that we've killed and maimed countless towelheads and gooks. It's drama. There's conflict. We're torn. We're engaged. We're distracted. We are, in a word, entertained; same with everything else—movies, TV, the Internet, music, the final four, baseball, football, The Masters, video games, etc., etc.—that keeps our minds off the only two things that matter in the Empire of America: 1) the accumulation and preservation of ghoulish individual and corporate wealth and 2) the unquestionable support, protection and defense of the State of Israel at any cost.

And why exactly are we supposed to give a rat's ass about the State of Israel? For two reasons: 1) Jews had a hard time in Nazi Germany and run the propaganda apparatus that keeps "brave, free" Americans brainwashed into thinking they have to hurry up and buy a bunch of worthless junk and 2) in order for Jesus to come back and separate the wheat from the chaff, Jews have to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem. Holy, Christ. For saying stuff like that I get called "anti-Semitic." Fine. Call me anti-Semitic all you want. Being an anti-Semite in 21st Century America is the same as being a Jew in Nazi Germany. "...handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?"

"Fortune, good night: smile once more: turn thy wheel!"

And why exactly are we supposed to give a rat's ass whether Jesus comes back to separate the wheat from the chaff? 'Cause once Jesus gets here we won't have to worry about global warming or building levees in New Orleans or keeping three million people in jail, etc., etc, and until then we can accumulate and preserve ghoulish individual and corporate wealth to our heart's content. Damn the future! Full speed ahead! The rapture will fix all that Nervous Nellie folderol them tree-huggers think we have to worry about. If I were one of those "end times" guys I'd be careful what I wished for—me and Jesus, we're pretty tight, but there's a lot of chaff running around thinking it's wheat.

Oh, well, I'm gonna finish writing a book about the whole sad state of affairs one of these days...which will never, ever see the light of day in the Empire of America. Walt Disney just told me its website is its property and I can't put a link to it on my website. To Walt Disney I say, "Blow me."

April 2, 2006

Okay, with a few refreshing exceptions, everyone in adult trade publishing has finally admitted that he or she is a worthless, superfluous, giddy, giggly, chickenhearted, money-grubbing, Nazi moron. Yippee! What took so long, I do not know. Here's the e-mail I sent 'em:

When he got his, Gary Fisketjon jumped up and down and sang the Nazi Moron song, "I'm a Nazi moron and I'm okay" and pretty soon the rest of Random House was rockin' out along with him and it spread to Penguin-Putnam, Holtzbrinck and Simon & Schuster. Then Binky and Suzanne Gluck and the rest of the chicks at ICM and Wm. Morris started getting their hoity-toity little grooves on and of course that got Andrew Wylie all excited...he out-bopped the buzzard and the oriole, tweet-tweet, tweedily-dee. Heh.

There's no shame in being a brainwashed, money-grubbing Nazi moron. Obviously. Why else would there be so many? Now I gotta send the same e-mail to the boys and girls of Propagandaville. The guys in Tinseltown all pretty much know what brainwashed, money-grubbing Nazi morons they are but I might as well get them to admit it, if clamoring after Oscars and swag weren't proof enough. G.

March 29, 2006

As you can see by looking at the Home Page, I've changed the name of my site to more accurately reflect what I've learned about the entertainment and media businesses during the last four years. I've been told that some people might object to my use of the word "Nazi" but when Western Civilization has been conned into believing that evil is good, that slavery is liberty, that Oprah Winfrey's opinion matters and that Dan Brown can write his or her way out of a paper bag, Nazi seems way too tame a word. Uber-Nazi? I'm gonna finish writing a book about the tragic Fall of the American Empire one of these days but in the meantime, here's an e-mail I'm sending to all 12,000 people on my little list of Nazi know-it-alls whose sole goal in life is to get you down into the cesspool of mediocrity he or she's in.

It's several hundred pages long. I'm running out of room. It takes a heap 'o propaganda to keep your brains so constantly washed. The people of the Third Reich weren't nearly as manipulated by Nazi propaganda as we Americans are. Joseph Goebbels didn't have enough time or money. We did. Whoop-dee-doo!

March 8, 2006

I'm gonna be doing a new rant any minute now, all about how The Washington Post and Newhouse News Service are a bunch of ignorant, lying, loser, know-nothing punks, but I've got other more important things to do first, like pick my nose. They blocked my e-mail address, those ostrich twerps. Can you imagine? I can't send anyone at The Washington Post or Newhouse an e-mail. Sheesh. I told 'em about how The Audio Book of Ginny Good is the greatest new work of literary art ever made and sent 'em a sample:

and for that, they blocked my e-mail address. If I'd told 'em what color underpants Hillary Clinton was wearing that day they would've sent me a free, lifetime subscription to their Nazi twaddle. I could've lined all the bird cages in Oregon forever. What if I had something important to tell 'em? I couldn't. What's more important than the greatest new work of literary art ever made? Hillary Clinton's underpants, that's what...well, according to The Washington Post and Newhouse News, anyway. I guess they want to deprive their reporters of the chance to report anything worth reporting the way they deprive their readers of the chance to read anything worth reading. Joseph Goebbels is alive and well and living in DC, yippee!

It probably wouldn't take too much to get myself two or three new e-mail addresses but why bother? People like living in a police can lead horses to water but you can't give 'em brains enough to blow his or her own runny nose. Oh, oh, and speaking of runny noses, here's a slick story about a donkey with a runny nose:

It's not their fault, of course. I'm sure Jonathan Yardley's a pleasant enough fellow. He doesn't wanna hear that Ginny Good kicks the living crap out of everything his hero Hunter S. Thompson ever wrote or ever dreamed of writing. No. He's ignorant and he wants to stay that way. He's just doing what his owners pay him to do. "Yo! Jon-Jon! Ignore anything of any consequence and keep people distracted, keep 'em entertained, keep 'em in the dark and feed 'em horseshit...there's money to be made." Oh, oh, and speaking of money to be made, here's another story that's better all by itself than any whole book Jonathan Yardley or the chicken Washington Post ever reviewed:

Ack. I don't give a rat's ass how stupid stupid people wanna stay. Go read The New York Times if you wanna wise up. That Michiko chick, she tells it like it is...her and Oprah the dope. Ha! I gotta go puke:

February 9, 2006

I wrote a book called Ginny Good. It's the Great American Novel and it ain't even fiction. It took thirty years to write the sucker and eight years to get it published, then nobody read it. Ha! That pissed me off in a withering, bemused, "forgive them for they know not what they do" sort of way. Nobody read it 'cause it got no reviews and no publicity and no hype from the propaganda machine that completely controls what you read and think and hear and see and believe. Libraries don't even know it exists. Nobody knows it exists. Oh, well, nobody knows lots of things worth knowing.

Then I spent six or eight months and all the money I had in the world several times over turning it into The Audio Book of Ginny Good...a whole new art form, for goodness sake...and when I was done I sent out (and am still sending out) a press release about it. Nobody paid any attention to that, either. I expected nobody to pay any attention. When you've got mindless, thoughtless, high-paid trolls like Oprah Winfrey and Bill O'Reilly and David Letterman and Katie Couric and Larry King and George Bush and George Clooney and Hillary Clinton and Michiko Kakutani and Harvey Weinstein and Charlie Rose (all of whom are wholly-owned and operated by the money-grubbing Judeo-Christian Nazi terrorist thugs and murderers who run the Empire of America) controlling what people read and see and think and feel and know, the last thing that's ever going to be brought to your attention is anything worth reading or seeing or thinking or feeling or knowing.

Welcome to the United States of Mordor. We used to be the good guys, we used to be nice, we used to be the solution, we used to be Joe DiMaggio, (Chapter 3) people used to want us on their side. Now we're Hitler; now we're Stalin and the Inquisition and the Holocaust and the Rape of Nanking. We rob and enslave and mutilate and kill for sport, for the pure joy of making more and more money. Making more and more money is the only game in town. Alas, Babylon.

And what are you doing about it? Anything? No. What I'm doing is making a list...who's naughty and who's nice, who's ignored the greatest new work of art ever made and who hasn't, who's ignorant, in other words, and who isn't. I'm checking it twice, at least...sometimes five or ten or twenty times. Wouldn't it have been cool to know the names of all the people who walked out on Stravinsky's Rite of Spring? All the people who threw stones at Van Gogh and pooh-poohed the Armory Show? The people who never published anything Kafka ever wrote? The people who put Galileo in jail? The people who offed Socrates? Yes. So I'm making the definitive list of Philistines and ignorant idiots of the early 21st Century in order that future generations may know who killed poor, beautiful America. Call it a hobby. If you're on my little list, you're the problem. You're who you don't like. Change. Quit lying and cheating and stealing and deluding yourself. Stop being a money-grubbing slave. Let the truth set you free. Heh. G.

January 28, 2006

Truth? Oprah Winfrey's an illiterate slave who sells massa's illiterate schlock to the rest of the slaves on massa's plantation to keep them pacified, to keep them from feeling the mind-forged manacles that break their hearts and break their souls. It's the schlock she sells that forges the manacles. Her owners pay her beaucoup bucks for her services, sure, but it could just as easily be some other slave: Dr. Dre, Fifty Cent, Martha Stewart, Maureen Dowd, Michi Kakutani, Donald Trump, Quentin Taratnino, Charlie Rose...the list is long, the manacles are unbreakable. There's nowhere you can go to get away from them. Even Allen Iverson has to dress up like a penguin to please his owners. Terrell Owens got uppity. Uh-oh. There's no free speech. There's no free press. There's no "freedom," period. There's no bravery. There's no independence. There's no liberty. There's no democracy. There's only the rich getting rich, the poor getting poorer and the whole woebegone population of the world being subjugated, lied to, made blue, cheated, mistreated, starved, beaten, raped, murdered and otherwise exploited to feed the voracious appetites of a few dipshit rich guys. Politics is entertainment. Justice is entertainment. News, war, religion, it's all entertainment. The only thing that matters is making money. The only thing that matters is not losing money. The only thing that matters is money. You're only worth what you're worth in money, right? Where, pray tell, did that come from? Even the hope of making money is entertainment. Hope is entertainment. Entertainment keeps the natives from getting restless...and the ones who get restless anyway, well, there's always jail. Poor Socrates, he got restless. Poor Galileo. Fall for it, go ahead. Get involved. Play into the hands of them that own and operate your ass. Get huffy. Gnash your teeth. Write a letter. Get yourself a blog. Spout your stupidity into a black hole. Vote. Ha! Ah, Bartleby. G.

January 22, 2006

Here's an e-mail exchange I had a few days ago:

Hello Mr. Jones, While browsing through the Internet I came upon your web site and wanted to respond to some of what I read. Have you gone to small presses with your work? If you follow recent marketing trends, Barnes & Noble confirms that more of the smaller publishers are getting shelf space rather than the giant conglomerates. What really struck me was the entertaining exchange of emails between you and editors. Now, that's a story! I listened to some of Ginny Good, it could be a screenplay, or a play. I know we hear about the deals about unknowns who have struck gold with big houses, and look at that guy, James Frey! That could happen to you. And look at Stephen King, whose agent called him years later to tell him that his book was going to be contracted with a publisher...and the rest is history. I don't know why it takes so long for things to happen, progress is slow. But if writing is your passion, you must do it and persevere. I bet for every published author there are hundreds who gave up. Keep writing and good luck.

If I were that Frey guy or Stephen King I would long ago have shot myself in the head for being such a worthless, two-bit loser slave and sycophant, deluded by my owners into thinking I could write books worth reading or writing. If I were Dan Brown I would've offed myself in utero. If Oprah Winfrey ever pushed any of my books I'd know for a fact that it was senseless, unreadable, money-grubbing claptrap and/or inane, superficial, annoying crap. People buy sizzle. I make steak. GG's been published for almost two years. It's great literature. Art. A masterpiece. A work of lasting value. Read it and see. I'm giving the audio version away for free. Thanks. G.

January 13, 2006

I'm like Nabokov. The pipsqueaks who run the entertainment industry are the mindless butterflies I catch in the mountains behind my house in the summer. I don't get any joy out of sticking them with pins and putting them on display in pretty cases, but if I don't do it who will?

I'm like Van Gogh. The twerps who own the propaganda machine are the neighborhood thugs who call me mean names. I'm like Kafka, like Socrates and Galileo and Stravinsky and Marcel Duchamp. There is no better writer alive than me but none of the self-important idiots who publish, review or make movies out of books would know a good sentence if it bit 'em on the ass, let alone a good paragraph or a good chapter or a good book...due to being brainwashed by the love of money from the day he or she was conceived. If a thing can't make money, it's art...and anything that can make money ain't art. Ha!

Good writing has ceased to exist. I run across practically nothing anywhere that's not either flat-out hogwash or sickeningly insipid...probably 'cause I'm one of the few sane people in all Western Civilization. Free speech has ceased to exist. People are for the most part completely crazy. They want what they're told to want and what they're told to want is whatever's gonna make some dipshit rich guy more money. You could could come up with a surefire cure for cancer and nobody would ever hear about it unless some dipshit rich guy could make more money by telling you what it was. That's just nuts. Here's a relatively mediocre chapter from the greatest literary achievement of all time (The Audio Book of Ginny Good)...listen to it; learn a thing or two, hear what good writing sounds like for the first time ever in your life:

Or not. Stay stupid. Stay brainwashed. Stay a slave. Mediocre as it may be, that single chapter still kicks the crap out of almost every book or movie made anywhere in the world so far this century. And when you're done listening to it, go listen to the introduction and the other thirty-four chapters. Some are better than others but they're all better than most any other book you can buy anywhere and they're free, like me:

Or read the real book. I don't give a rat's ass how you get over being as stupid as your owners need you to be in order to milk you for more and more money every minute of every day by selling you the preposterous pap they sell you. G.

January 6, 2006

Okay, after working ten or twelve hours a day, seven days a week, for a little over six months—not to mention the money it cost to hire an audio engineer...or the twenty years it took to write the book in the first place...or the eight years it took to get it published, edited and distributed—I finally finished both versions of The Audio Book of Ginny Good and put them on CDs. Phew. The Voice Only Version is eleven hours long. It's the Great American Novel and it ain't even fiction. Ha! The Multimedia Version is four hours longer and is easily the most edifying, entertaining, important literary achievement of all time...and I'm giving them both away for free. If you want to see the index and/or download the audio files, click this:

Once you get the CD or CDs, you're welcome to copy 'em and give 'em away to anyone you want. I don't care if anyone buys my stuff I just want 'em to hear it or read it 'cause it's great literature and it's about time people knew what great literature is again. I just know in my bones that the entertainment industry in its entirety, from politics, sports, journalism, books, movies, games, etc., etc., etc. to kids' cartoons on Saturday morning is all part and parcel of the hugest, most sad, sickening propaganda machine ever made...all of which is dedicated solely to making money and making money only. Maybe that's just capitalism but if so it ought to be put out of business. Here's one of the tips of the tip of the iceberg from The London Times: Publishers toss Booker winners into the reject pile

(Page Two)


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Gerard Jones
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