...you need a ticket (15 €) which you can buy at a ticket office. It's worth it...
Yes, this is a view of the Ticket Office's bathroom.
Feb 9, 2017
Florence (2)
To climb Giotto's tower (here's a view from the top)...
...you need a ticket (15 €) which you can buy at a ticket office. It's worth it...
Yes, this is a view of the Ticket Office's bathroom.
...you need a ticket (15 €) which you can buy at a ticket office. It's worth it...
Yes, this is a view of the Ticket Office's bathroom.
Feb 8, 2017
Florence (1)
We decided to go to Florence for a few days and so we swang by Portofino, on the Cinque Terre peninsula, to the east of Genua. Nothing special happened, and there's nothing to trigger (yet) another fragment from This is Heaven. Enjoy.
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 2, 2017
Donald Trump, seriously
(Trump Jump, Twitler, immigrant, kakistocracy, Donald Lump, trumpcare, Trump Treatment, Tyrannosaurus rump, alternative facts, Hot Donald, Trumps Razor, small hands: The Urban Dictionary, our favorite linguistic cyclopedia, has dropped its habitual preoccupation with matters autoerotic and gone full Trump Dump since the Machtsübernahme, and so our friend Glenn wants to know what we think about the new president. Glenn's particularly interested in answers regarding Trump's intelligence:)
Trump is intelligent, at least technically. He can think on his feet, he's wily, sly, cunning, and has been successful for more than forty years in a difficult business---not as successful as he claims, but he's survived four or six bankruptcies, several trophy wives, and a grueling election campaign---you can't do this without substantial raw intelligence. There are NYT reports regarding his deal making, which emphasize that his negotiation skills really shine when we get into the fine print (the annotations of complex real-estate contracts)---meaning that even his attention span is substantial when he's into a "deal." And then there is corroborating evidence about his work as developer---a developer obsessed with details, we read. So yes, he's clever.
Which doesn't mean he's Socrates. He's not an intellectual, let alone a thinker. He won't take time to think unless it's urgent business. He's a results man---or business man---in the worst conceivable sense. And he's extremely narcissistic---no need to elaborate, just one more anecdote (we quote the Washington Post):
Trump is intelligent, at least technically. He can think on his feet, he's wily, sly, cunning, and has been successful for more than forty years in a difficult business---not as successful as he claims, but he's survived four or six bankruptcies, several trophy wives, and a grueling election campaign---you can't do this without substantial raw intelligence. There are NYT reports regarding his deal making, which emphasize that his negotiation skills really shine when we get into the fine print (the annotations of complex real-estate contracts)---meaning that even his attention span is substantial when he's into a "deal." And then there is corroborating evidence about his work as developer---a developer obsessed with details, we read. So yes, he's clever.
Which doesn't mean he's Socrates. He's not an intellectual, let alone a thinker. He won't take time to think unless it's urgent business. He's a results man---or business man---in the worst conceivable sense. And he's extremely narcissistic---no need to elaborate, just one more anecdote (we quote the Washington Post):
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 25, 2017
Do not forsake us Donald, we're great, and yuge, and bigly
(Our friends Sacha and Glenn sent this link:)
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 21, 2017
Trump's razor
In yet another vain attempt at self-promotion we have to---we simply HAVE TO react to Urban Dictionary's word of the day, Trump's Razor.
Because. Yes, because (a) the Urban Dictionary plays an important role in the GREEN EYES, and there are also cameo appearances of (b) Occam's Razor, and even (c) of Trump himself.
(Ad a) We have Raffael Beeblebrox, a senior editor of the Urban Dictionary showing up in CH. 5 of This Is Heaven and discussing John's neologisms (e.g., "i-Thing," and "adult parts.") Later, in CH. 47, we'll rerun this discussion on John's latest neo-finds (e.g., "out-plussed," and "cloud fart.") But...the best invocation of the Dictionary happens in CH. 23; Alex has returned to his apartment for the first time after his suicide attempt last week:
The chaos of Thursday’s rescue panic is still in place, Ray and me dragging Alex’s OD’d body through the lack of space of this tiny apartment, low knee walls below the sloped ceilings, all chairs (two) fallen over, a coffee table (yard sale) fallen over, a small couch (yard sale) at an odd angle, a couch table (displaced), a helpless mini-rug (dog-eared), shards of a broken coffee mug spread across the rough-hewn floor. I collect a few pieces and arrange them side by side on the kitchen counter top. It’s merchandise spin off from the Urban Dictionary, saying SUCKING STREAK. There’s also a definition of the term, presumably, still spread across the floor, and perhaps not really needed.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 16, 2017
The Bzzfrzzakitamot period
Future archaeologists from Titan and other parts of the galaxy will call our epoch the Bzzfrzzakitamot period ("bizarre blond comb-over period") for its excessive depictions of always the same blond comb-overed male embedded in electronic artifacts, mainly in satirical contexts.
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 9, 2017
Going back home
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| Brigg station, waiting for the shuttle to take us through the Simplon tunnel (pass was closed) |
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| Arriving in the Valle Antrona on the Italian side |
(pictures by Chang)
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 2, 2017
Dec 28, 2016
Inkitt (1) The Algorithm, the algorithm --- whatever you make of this
The GREEN EYES are listed on Inkitt, an AI-agent and publisher---"AI" here in the sense of artificial intelligence, the computer science discipline we taught the last ten years of our previous life, and "agent" in the sense of literary agent. Yes.
And they've just sent us an email. You don't have to read this, but just in case:
Think this through. They have an algorithm---if you scroll down, you'll find a fragment of ours, written weeks ago, involving algorithms, but don't scroll down yet---an algorithm that's supposed to pick winners on the basis of readers' reading behavior. And the next thing is, they ask their authors to work around the algorithm and mobilize their "fans," no matter what. Best of luck. (For more bickering, scroll down-down.)
And here's the fragment---hold on, let's start a little competition of our own: who's the biggest fool in This Is Heaven? The mayor, Bienpensant, John himself perhaps? No---it's Inspector Mario LaStrada of course, the detective (who's still missing from or Green Eyes zoo, inexcusably). Here goes, from Chapter 41, "The Game Is up"---John's fourth and last encounter with the inspector:
LaStrada must have found time taking a class in creative writing since he says: “Did you bring the handcuffs that you were wearing so convincingly on, on…”
(we make eye contact)
“…Tuesday,” I help out.
“Well-put,” he replies, “Tuesday night.”
“You didn’t ask me to bring them,” I say.
“You should keep them handy. It appears that the long arm of the law is not yet done with you.”
And they've just sent us an email. You don't have to read this, but just in case:
"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!
Congrats! Your novel [the GREEN EYES in our case] is in the top 10% of novels in the Genre Preliminaries and has been awarded a spot in The Final Round. Your work will now join the best performing novels from the other genres in a face-off for the $1000 Grand Prize. The Final Round is an exclusive, invite only, closed contest.
Announce the big news to your fans, and keep sharing your knockout novel if you want to be top dog! The winner will be selected by the Inkitt algorithm based on level of reader engagement so you will need to win over as many members of the crowd as possible. Call in your hypemen and round up your groupies to help you spread the word about your latest win and find new support to secure your title as Champion.
Best of luck!
Your Inkitt Team"
Think this through. They have an algorithm---if you scroll down, you'll find a fragment of ours, written weeks ago, involving algorithms, but don't scroll down yet---an algorithm that's supposed to pick winners on the basis of readers' reading behavior. And the next thing is, they ask their authors to work around the algorithm and mobilize their "fans," no matter what. Best of luck. (For more bickering, scroll down-down.)
And here's the fragment---hold on, let's start a little competition of our own: who's the biggest fool in This Is Heaven? The mayor, Bienpensant, John himself perhaps? No---it's Inspector Mario LaStrada of course, the detective (who's still missing from or Green Eyes zoo, inexcusably). Here goes, from Chapter 41, "The Game Is up"---John's fourth and last encounter with the inspector:
LaStrada must have found time taking a class in creative writing since he says: “Did you bring the handcuffs that you were wearing so convincingly on, on…”
(we make eye contact)
“…Tuesday,” I help out.
“Well-put,” he replies, “Tuesday night.”
“You didn’t ask me to bring them,” I say.
“You should keep them handy. It appears that the long arm of the law is not yet done with you.”
Dec 27, 2016
Menton, yesterday
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| Photography by Chang |
We went to "celebrate" the first draft of This Is Heaven, on Dec. 25, and drove by Menton---the town between Monaco and the Italian border. This was on the way to Sospel, an ancient town nearby up in the mountains---stay tuned.
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 21, 2016
The headless horseman --- This is heaven --- teaser (19)
Alex and John are meeting Godehart in the Blue Moon to commiserate about the German's ouster from the festival contest. One paragraph into this Inspector LaStrada will make his appearance, the homicide detective who is in charge of the investigation of Neill Palmer's death. And the talk about the goldfish bowl? Bit complicated to explain, have a look here.
Godehart is expecting us at a bar table where he had a few shots already. “How did it happen,” we ask. Well, he failed to get the earphone working again. And the confusion. Whether he talked to the mayor. No, the mayor had disappeared. He talked to Beeblebrox though.
“Beeblebrox was very upset, I did better than Roper, he said. I should register a protest.”
“With whom?” Alex asks.
“My guardian angel, I presume.”
And the paper work? Did they at least provide him with a copy of the paperwork? No, nothing. Hamblin is basically incommunicado. And so is the City Club. A bunch of thugs. He learned his lesson, and orders another round.
Sorry to interrupt this, real quick: (a) have you seen the movie Sleepy Hollow with Jonny Depp as inspector Crane and Christopher Walken as the headless horseman (Depp stays a bit too much in character, doesn’t he?)? The horseman is Irish folklore, there are also headless versions without horse; (b) talking hyperboles; (c) you recall inspector LaStrada. He’s entering the premises of the Blue Moon as we speak, and he looks tonight like a horseless, headless inspector who wears a fishbowl under his arm, I swear.
Godehart is expecting us at a bar table where he had a few shots already. “How did it happen,” we ask. Well, he failed to get the earphone working again. And the confusion. Whether he talked to the mayor. No, the mayor had disappeared. He talked to Beeblebrox though.
“Beeblebrox was very upset, I did better than Roper, he said. I should register a protest.”
“With whom?” Alex asks.
“My guardian angel, I presume.”
And the paper work? Did they at least provide him with a copy of the paperwork? No, nothing. Hamblin is basically incommunicado. And so is the City Club. A bunch of thugs. He learned his lesson, and orders another round.
 |
| Sorry to interrupt this. |
Sorry to interrupt this, real quick: (a) have you seen the movie Sleepy Hollow with Jonny Depp as inspector Crane and Christopher Walken as the headless horseman (Depp stays a bit too much in character, doesn’t he?)? The horseman is Irish folklore, there are also headless versions without horse; (b) talking hyperboles; (c) you recall inspector LaStrada. He’s entering the premises of the Blue Moon as we speak, and he looks tonight like a horseless, headless inspector who wears a fishbowl under his arm, I swear.
Dec 20, 2016
Man of the day, no. 46
Trump will be only the 45th president, but he has some beef with them, about a negative critique of one of his restaurants.
Dec 18, 2016
German for beginners
The Süddeutsche Zeitung has an article about Donald Trump vs. Nero Claudius Ceasar Augustus Germanicus, Roman Emperor from 54 to 68 AD. It figures.
Anyhow, here are a few quotes, just in case you haven't yet gotten enough of this.
Soll man den Trump Tower in New York nun geschmacklos (tasteless) nennen? Staunend (stunned) betrachtet die Welt die Kulisse, in denen der erwählte Präsident der USA seine Regierung vorbereitet: polierter Marmor, vergoldete (gilded) Flügeltüren, Kassettendecken, kanellierte Säulen, goldene Polstermöbel, schwere Teppiche, Glastische, riesige (humongous) Vasen (vases), Luxus (luxury) als Befehl zur Überwältigung.
Dec 16, 2016
Another review of the GREEN EYES
"Reminiscent of Douglas Coupland, GREEN EYES is humorous, thrilling and erotic. It is the blending of genres. I like the style that this is written in. It’s quite absurd and our narrator, John, seems to be either poking fun at himself or the author Michael Ampersant (or the author poking fun at John) The tenses seem to be all over the shop and I are not sure if something is happening in John’s mind, that of the writer or in the reality of the book. I like how this flows. It is like drops of water falling on one another, joining and bursting. It’s languid. This is also a book about blogging. There are some witty and intelligent observations on this subject. It’s almost a resource for how to start a popular blog. It is brilliant how this is used in the book for criminal baiting..."
You find this on InbetweenBooks, a review blog run by Katie. Yes, Katie. Its not a new review, it's a "reprise," so it was published before, but there you have it again. We're extremely pleased, you can imagine.
And the blog, folks, the blog Katie is talking about, that's the blog you are looking at.
Now a Lambda Literary Awards finalist:
___________________________________
("click")
___________________________
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 13, 2016
Post-coital checkup --- This Is Heaven --- Teaser (18)
We're in Chapter 19. John & Alex have been urged to check on Juliette, who's supposedly in her hotel room. And then there's Barbette Bienpensant (the professor and Juliette's half-sister), and Romeo---you'll see.
Hold on, the illustrations are a bit dada.
The professor bangs on the door and attacks the door knob. No reaction. “Hold the line,” Alex says to her, “briefly.”
“Juliette,” he says to the door. “Wonder girl, we need your help.” He knocks twice.
“It’s too late,” Bienpensant says, “we need somebody to force the door. The concierge. The ambulance.”
“Wonder girl,” Alex enunciates, “Alex.”
This is a noisy building from the 70’s, we should hear something inside—-if. And yes, there’s a sound, the bounce of a closet door maybe. The door unlocks and Juliette’s head appears in the crack. She looks drowsy at first, then defiant, then resigned. She lets go and retreats. We enter. Romeo is on the bed, half-hiding under the sheets (Juliette wears a bathrobe).
 |
| "We... |
“What is this,” Bienpensant says, “who is this boy?”
“False alarm,” I say (idiotically).
“This is Romeo,” Juliette says, “who else?” She walks up to the bed and sits down.
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 9, 2016
No hands, no Photoshop, James Bond
This is the house of a neighbor, which featured extensively on this blog a few years ago.
Fragment, fragment. No prob, we have at least five. Here's one from Part II of the GREEN EYES, Ch. 11 (Albert Camus):
Let me interrupt myself and mention James Bond again. It doesn’t matter which movie, so let’s talk about the last one, Skyfall. Daniel Craig introduces himself to Dr. No or one of No’s co-workers, like Bérénice Marlohe, say, and says “The name is Bond, James Bond.” And while any other person on the planet would now go, like, ‘Great,’ or ‘Can you give me an autograph,’ Bérénice has never heard of the super-hero of popular culture, grimaces distantly, and shakes the stranger’s hand.
Dec 7, 2016
The ad that ends the culture wars --- This is heaven --- Teaser (17)
John is back home where he's confronted with Ben --- Ben, last week's conquest and this week's backbone of the newfangled A-level Escort Service. For more context, read here how Ben got tricked into this by Alex, and here how he discharged his duties during his first A-level assignment.
Ben has a very long shower at the moment and my feeling is that he’s going to depart from my life pretty soon, the way he shot cursory glances at the bedstead and then at me---which was still okay, especially under the circumstances---but then he asked whether he could use the shower, and his next step will be to ask whether he can use the bathroom, and then he’s gone.
We shouldn’t belabor the obvious here, but if you’re in the pay of one of these outfits that use “family” as code against gays, and you’re tasked to produce the definitive ad, the ad that ends the culture wars, you could do much worse than to tell the story of a young, handsome Afro-American who has options, obviously, when it comes to sexual preferences, and who falls into the hands of this homosexual assistant professor of French who’s only option is a tangled ménage with a rape victim and a suicide victim and pimping handsome Afro-Americans to high-strung Valkyries---not to mention Ray, the murder suspect whom he hasn’t met yet.
Now Ben’s back from the shower, and this is my last chance. He’s wearing these graffiti briefs that look so great on him even when not quite fresh, and he's just standing there, the precise model of ebony perfection, unconscious of his own skin, one more second before he’ll ask whether he can use the bathroom. So you say: “Ben.”
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 2, 2016
The rising tide lifts all boats (3)
(Our friend Glenn sends this picture)
 |
| "Outside my favorite bar," he comments. |
Dec 1, 2016
Occam's razor
 |
| Timeo Trumpos et dona ferentes |
(Fragment, fragment, GREEN EYES, Part II, very short, Alex (saying:))
"Look it up."
(Okay, a bit more. We're in the climactic chapter, "This Is Heaven," and in the company of John, the narrator, Alex, Raphael Beeblebrox (an editor with The Urban Dictionary), and Ben. Professor Bienpensant, the quantitative metaphysicist is going to preside over her own doomsday prediction looming for midnight:)
“Why is it, Alex,” Beeblebrox asks, waving today’s program printout at him, “why is it that cataclysmic events are always scheduled at mundane, convenient times?”
“Because twenty percent of the population believe Armageddon will happen during their life time.”
“Twenty-five percent,” Ben corrects him.
“Too easy, too easy.” Beeblebrox shakes his head.
“If you want more metaphysical, Raphael,”---Alex---“you should ask Professor Bienpensant. Occam’s razor, look it up.” Out of nowhere, he has conjured four tallboys and hands one to each of us.
Nov 29, 2016
Yesterday, and today, and Perry Brass, and Donald Trump
 |
| Yesterday |
 |
| Today (Chang is still working on the picture) |
And in the meantime, our friend Perry Brass published an informative review of the latest Trump biography, Donald Trump, the man who would be king, here.
Nov 24, 2016
Just a thought (Trump)
We're on Facebook, and if you've followed the news about the great divide on the social networks, you know that liberal Facebook users share a common bubble per algorithm. So we only see what other liberals think and say (same for conservatives). And even if you're not on Facebook but on the mailing lists of The New York Times, The New Yorker, The London Book Review, etc., you know by now that the commentary---the commentary that you see---is adamant that we shouldn't be fooled by Trump's recent, concessionary posture. He'll be his true self again in the White House, he'll live up to his election promises, and bring the world down.
 |
| He floats in the worldly Manhattan society. |
What if he doesn't? He's run some sort of business empire for 40 years---not as successful as he pretends to, but he didn't go under, he recovered from four or six bankruptcies, he owns a Boeing 757, he enjoyed fabulous tax deductions and a good sex life (at least on his own terms). He must have some sense of the Art of the Deal (the title of his ghostwritten book). Plus, he's lazy, we're informed, although I don't believe that's true (I'm lazy myself, I know how it is). Why-o-why should Trump bring the world down? At his age? He doesn't hold deep convictions, except for some protectionist instincts and a pliable xenophobia tempered by two foreign spouses. During all that time he floated buoyantly in the worldly Manhattan society, unlike, say, Adolf Hitler. Why should he bring the world down? Much easier to sit in the Oval office, do a Ronald Reagan, sow discord among his advisers, practice the Art of the Deal, and enjoy himself.
Just a thought.
Nov 23, 2016
"Not so difficult to play Sherlock Holmes when you are Dr. Watson" --- This is heaven --- Teaser (16)
There’s a knock on the door.
She has issues, but she’s not an fool, especially when it comes to two males with vacant expressions on their faces, oiled in sweat, one of them still buckling his belt, them apparently having spent quality time in 120 degrees Fahrenheit and the stench from an underserviced john. The Bienpensant looks us up and down. Bulge check. Are we drunken again?
(This is so subtle.)
Taylor is utterly embarrassed. This will heal him of all homoerotic tendencies. I’m even more embarrassed. But I have my moments. So I say to the professor: “You need to use the bathroom?”
She has to think about this. “You’re asking the wrong question,” she says.
Some real macho-man would now say something like “See you later, Professor,” or “See ya later, Barbette.” But us, we just hurtle away, heads half-dropped, we could be holding hands on the way to the gallows.
She has issues, but she’s not an fool, especially when it comes to two males with vacant expressions on their faces, oiled in sweat, one of them still buckling his belt, them apparently having spent quality time in 120 degrees Fahrenheit and the stench from an underserviced john. The Bienpensant looks us up and down. Bulge check. Are we drunken again?
(This is so subtle.)
Taylor is utterly embarrassed. This will heal him of all homoerotic tendencies. I’m even more embarrassed. But I have my moments. So I say to the professor: “You need to use the bathroom?”
She has to think about this. “You’re asking the wrong question,” she says.
Some real macho-man would now say something like “See you later, Professor,” or “See ya later, Barbette.” But us, we just hurtle away, heads half-dropped, we could be holding hands on the way to the gallows.
Whatever happens down there, up here, in our heads---most women would possibly deny much is going on there---up here us males get back to normal immediately, it’s an important reason for starting a hand job, and for finishing it, and it’s an important reason for divorces as well. We can’t just trot back together to the stand, ten minutes late. “I need to see a man about a horse,” I utter somewhat incoherently and point into the direction of the trailers along the canal. “See you later.”
Nov 19, 2016
The Canadian wall
(Our friend Susan sends this note:)
News Update from Canada
The flood of Trump-fearing American liberals sneaking across the border into Canada has intensified in the past week. The Republican presidential campaign is prompting an exodus among left-leaning Americans who fear they'll soon be required to hunt, pray, pay taxes, and live according to the Constitution.
Canadian border residents say it's not uncommon to see dozens of sociology professors, liberal arts majors, global-warming activists, and "green" energy proponents crossing their fields at night.
"I went out to milk the cows the other day, and there was a Hollywood producer huddled in the barn," said southern Manitoba farmer Red Greenfield, whose acreage borders North Dakota. "He was cold, exhausted and hungry, and begged me for a latte and some free-range chicken. When I said I didn't have any, he left before I even got a chance to show him my screenplay, eh?"
News Update from Canada
The flood of Trump-fearing American liberals sneaking across the border into Canada has intensified in the past week. The Republican presidential campaign is prompting an exodus among left-leaning Americans who fear they'll soon be required to hunt, pray, pay taxes, and live according to the Constitution.
Canadian border residents say it's not uncommon to see dozens of sociology professors, liberal arts majors, global-warming activists, and "green" energy proponents crossing their fields at night.
"I went out to milk the cows the other day, and there was a Hollywood producer huddled in the barn," said southern Manitoba farmer Red Greenfield, whose acreage borders North Dakota. "He was cold, exhausted and hungry, and begged me for a latte and some free-range chicken. When I said I didn't have any, he left before I even got a chance to show him my screenplay, eh?"
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