Have not had time to update this blog in a while, but here is the MYTHOS IN MUSIC panel from Cthulhucon 2015 (click here)
It boggles my mind that there are people who don’t want you to see this. (click here) Ed Lipsett in Japan found the folio edition of The Play. The one Chambers gave up trying to retell when he was an art student gacked out of his mind on opium and absinthe, and deflected the whole mess of research into what everyone thought was his personal ‘Kubla Khan’.
The Play. Villon wrote it in jail, in 1456. THE EMPEROR CLOTHED WITH THE SUN. The tapeworm barb of what Villon did, replicating over and over in our culture ever since. The quantum mistake that almost let in Armageddon, which has come down to us in watered-down, mythic form as THE KING IN YELLOW.
CJ Henderson read the whole thing cover to cover, with what Garth Ennis rightly called “the courage given a dying man to say what he likes without fear.” And he put the period on what he saw while he was still with us. Like the old Ragu ads used to say in the Eighties… It’s In There.
Lipsett won’t look at it. It’s been in glass since Artaud tried to adapt it in 1929. He knows better, though I see in his eyes that he’s almost tried. I don’t fault him. He’s a brave man. Glynn Owen Barass, his co-editor, looked at it in a mirror, but only the first page. It doesn’t appear to have had any effect. Yet. I’m hoping.
Shawn Lawton was recently kind enough to run “Mercy Street,” a Fractured Fairy Tale told by the poet Anne Sexton post-suicide, in the shared universe of the late Robert W. Chambers (THE KING IN YELLOW.) Click here
THE STARRY WISDOM LIBRARY is about to see daylight. The books have long been tomb-raided, scattered hither and yon to various odd locales on and off-world. But Professor Pedersen found the auction catalogue. All the books. THE NECRONOMICON. DE VERMIS MYSTERIIS. THE BOOK OF INVADERS. And more. This is the biggest thing ever to hit Library Science, and Miskatonic University got there first. Click here …
The Gamin column is somewhere between a diary, an experiment and what may turn into a book. I got the idea from the Night Cabbie in the old-school Willamette Week. Click here, #3 just went up. Cheers.
Every First Tuesday, I run a read at the Jade Lounge. <–Click the link> It’s not an open mic. I recruit six performers, preferably from different genres. Everyone gets up to half an hour with no genre restrictions, censorship restrictions… or experience restrictions. I have had a twenty-year-old poet, who never performed in public or published a thing, receive thunderous applause and go on to make numerous writing connections, ditto my highly underrated cohost, author/screenwriter/poet/journalist Jaime Dunkle. And I have had William F. Nolan rock the same microphone. And everyone in between, and sideways of Near There. Vince Kramer reading GWAR lyrics for half an hour the night Dave Brockie died. Lauren Woods making the bartender cry. Josh Knapton making fifty people forget to smoke. The silence that precedes the standing ovation. The theatre, and its double.
The schedule is constantly being clarified, our approach is constantly being improved, and Jaime and I are generally Always Thinking of More Stuff. I want to say a word or two more about a few other co-conspirators. Have a look at the page. It is public. Please let me know if it doesn’t link correctly.)
In the beginning. In the beginning, I lived in a horrid place, and worked a lot of horrid gigs when I could get them. And I built myself back up from nothing, with nothing, following a great tragedy.
And just when I thought I had made anything out of anything past that tragedy, I found my roommate’s dead body on the same week I was supposed to start some kind of spoken-word happening (down at the Jade, as I’d been recently recruited to do by a poet friend from way back. )
My collaborator Trent Zelazny (whose Dad wrote a few books, I heard, even more than Trent has, which is a lot) bought a train ticket for one of the best and most dedicated Science Fiction writers I know, Ann Koi, who helped me clean the entire site when the landlord refused…. And rehearsed, for hours upon hours, various scenes from an epic work called TRIBES OF HEAVEN 1: HONOR & SACRIFICE that blew the doors off the Jade when Koi took the bullet and went first.
We’ve had our on nights, and our off nights. We’ve been packed… and we’ve been so packed I almost worried about the Fire-Monster. We’ve had our ups and downs, and learned, like any organism does. But it’s been over sixteen months. This is A Thing.
Because of Trent, and Koi…and my headhunters Justin Montgomery and John Alkek, who comb Portland for the best and brightest who might or might not have ever seen a mic. What all these people, and the audience we recruit from, and every permutation, have brought the Hour is nothing less than the literature of the age.
People show up whom I don’t know, and I’ve seen first editions of arts magazines and flyers and all sorts of similar things circulated at our show, because it was our show. To me that says everything.
December arrives soon. Come see…