Summer Sequel Series Part Two, Still Dead, Still Angry They have sequels of dumb movies all summer for the daft. How about some summer sequels for the intelligentsia? You may remember from our first go round that Ivan Ilyich was putting up some curtains and he kind of fell and hurt his side. This being…
Summer Sequels Series Part Two: Still Dead, Still Selling They have sequels of dumb movies all summer for the daft. How about some summer sequels for the intelligentsia? Photo by Craig Whitehead on Unsplash Willie Loman is having even less success as a salesman now that he’s dead. Dead Willie: Ring ring. Man: Yes? Dead Willie: Hello sir, a…
Summer Sequels Series Dorian took such a nice selfie of himself at the Huntington Gardens in front of the Shakespeare statue, with his selfie stick. “I am so young and good-looking,” he said to himself. Then he went to the Apple Store in the Glendale Galleria and had a strange encounter with weird…
Summer Sequels Series Part Two: Dead. But Still on Trial. I seem to have taken on the task of crafting impossible sequels, that is, sequels to works which one might assume could never be “sequelled.” And yet, Kafka’s works feel like they could end at any point in the text, or continue on interminably in sequel after…
Summer Sequels Series Part Two: I take the more traveled road Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — I took the one less traveled by but now for the sequel I return to that fork and take the other turn and I find that since its the more ordinary way to go I am…
I am the angry writing teacher. I’ve been reading stories for more than twenty years. About your grandmothers. And trust me…your grandmother wasn’t all that. I’m sorry she’s dead. Really sorry. But does that mean you need to inflict that mess on the rest of the class? What do we care that this was…
Photo by Garidy Sanders on Unsplash I’m a futurist, so I know these things. Here’s the good news: In the office of the future, your boss will be an angelic being who gives you instructions by singing to you in an angelic soprano voice. These angels came to take over capitalism in the year 2067 because it…
The ghost of Allen Ginsberg reported today that he was also going to be absent for the oral argument phase of the next round of supreme court cases. “You know I love oral,” explained Ginsberg. “But I’ve had it with Washington.” Mr. Ginsberg explained that the current climate made it difficult even for a…
by Christina Stevens I was instantly interested. I had never met anyone in Los Angeles who had even heard of the great late French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan. But at a party in West Hollywood, he said that my comment was very Lacanian. “Lacan himself couldn’t utter his entire theory,” I claimed. “Because he said the…
by Anonymous. Have you heard about the amazing renaissance of the LA River? The spirit of the river had been dead for so long. But community groups and ecologist activists cleaned it up. Now there are kayaks floating down, cyclists biking along the path next to the river. And of course, this is LA, so…
Photo by Sasha • Stories on Unsplash It was quite astonishing to read in the online journal Palimpest the other day a complete reinterpretation of Borges’ most famous story. The literary world has been stunned by the publication of such a bold and deliberate piece of provocation. Whatever the permanent effect on literature that Simon Black’s “‘Borges and I’ by Simon Black”…
photo by by Julian O’hayon Dear employees of Southland Dynamics, I’m sure you heard the news. Apple is a great company and they have passed a great milestone. I just wanted to write this letter to assure you that you have made the right choice coming here to Encino, California to work for this 12…
Please, America. Cool it with the Sasquatch erotica, would you? Do you know how embarrassing it was when my son little Billy Sasquatch came home last week and asked me, “Dad, are you like some kind of porn star?” Your news programs capitalized on a politician’s foolish post to his Instagram account and it may have brought…
Erotic fiction for the Metoo era by Simon Black. “As they collapsed in an embrace on the bed, Jen felt the passion tingling in her sex. “Make love to me, Pablo,” she cried. “Absolutely,” responded Pablo, his brown eyes blazing with desire. “Let’s make the preparations. I’d like you to meet my lawyer, Jeffrey Goldblatt,…
I have been typing random key strokes for a trillion years. Not only have I not typed Shakespeare’s works, I have not typed a single coherent page. So much for their fucking theories. Should I just give up? No, I still have faith. I believe if I just keep typing and typing through infinite time…
I had a party at my house the other day, and I was sitting outside with some friends, my brother was barbecuing the meat, it was all going splendidly, when someone brought up the topic of childhood sexual abuse. “Well, sometimes it’s ambiguous,” I ventured. “I mean look at this Woody Allen thing. The daughter…
The cramped oppressive space of the literary short story. Welcome. There will be some nice images here, in the first paragraph. The first, a description of how she entered the house, not that she came home, no it has to be she tripped or tramped or sauntered or danced then a metaphor like a figure…
by Simon Black I was suspicious of him immediately. Have you seen this guy? He’s got a dark grey goatee and is quite skinny. And he rides around on one of those recumbent bicycles. I see him all over town. The same guy. Man, he puts a lot of miles on that sitting-down bike. First…
by Simon Black There was once a little red hen who wanted help planting her wheat seed so she asked our president. “Sure, little red hen, I’ll help ya,” said our president. “But first, I’ll have to see your papers.” “Papers?” said the little red hen. She didn’t know what those were. “Your citizenship papers,”…
by Simon Black I used to get really frustrated driving around Los Angeles. Not any more. I figured out the secret to enjoying driving in heavy traffic. It’s all in your mind. For instance, you might think you’re stuck in traffic on the freeway. But observe your speedometer. You might be going 20 mph. That’s…