Journals of Lord Malinov

the poetry of madness

tense and nervous, can't relax

psycho killer

We were watching Punk Attitude, a documovie on the IFC.  The punks are getting older, heavier too.  It is a great film, particularly for seeing clips of old performances by the varieties of punk, starting with the Velvet Underground and into the nineties.  Dancing about architecture, but a joy nonetheless.

I gnashed my teeth in regret, remembering how many time Iggy came to the Lawrence Opera House when I lived there, knowing how easily I could have seen the Pop perform.  Then I'll remember that William Burroughs was living just outside of town at the time.  Sheesh, what a waste of golden opportunity.

Burroughs has always had an impact on my writing, in a way I don't think I can explain.  His poetics dominate his writing, even when his prose became incredibly absurd.  He identified the word virus.  We are the carriers.

Kerouac was not as influential for me as he could have been.  The Subterraneans, for example, was a magnificent piece of writing.  Dharma Bums, on the other hand, was a hard pill to swallow.  Trying to capture Zen in a stream novel is a strange and difficult task.  Kerouac was not up to the job.  As Truman would say, "that's not writing, that's typing."

Bang bang Maxwell's silver hammer came down upon his head.  Bang, bang Maxwell's silver hammer made sure that he was dead.

Henry Rollins provided some interesting insight into the post-70s punk scene.  He looks so scary and speaks so well.  Can't judge a book by its cover, saith the Matt.  Never could, interjects the Pa.

Malinov

posted by: Malinov at 15:16 | link | comments (1) |

Comments:

#1  16 September 2005 - 10:41

 

I've been trying to read Dharma Bums for the past 2 weeks. It's not a long book, however, I just can't get into it....

solyluna

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