Portugal (1) --- Bondi Beach

We're on our way to Portugal---in fact, we've arrived already---and so we need to share this picture Chang took of Michael in Pau, a historic town north of the Pyrenees, where Henri IV was born, father of Louis XIII.





And Bondi Beach? In case you were wondering, it's Australia's signature beach, located south of Sidney:



The place where we are now, Vila Praia de Ancora, looks roughly like this, by the way. Stay tuned.

The Schadenfreude Institute

(Our friend Glenn sends this cartoon)

Anything the GREEN EYES have to add to this? Not really, except that we have Barbette Bienpensant, a professor of quantitative metaphysics and experienced forecaster of doom, who's affiliated with the University of Metaphysics. There, they have Departments of Alchemy and of Astrology. Why not  adding a Schadenfreude Institute to the mix? Especially with Donald Trump in the offing? Here's a pertaining fragment,  CH 46 of This Is Heaven, with John and the Bienpensant  conversing (the story is set in 2014):

“You and I talked about this before,” I say. “What do you do if your prediction is wrong? If there is no Armageddon?” Well, there’s so much Armageddon already. And there’ll be more soon, her Department of Astrology put out a Trump Warning. “A what?”  Trump, you know, the NYC real estate mogul, the stars have aligned apparently, they predict he’ll be the next president. And yet, you know, the end of the world need not be the end of the world, even with Trump in the offing, see, it could be rapture, rapture for just about everybody, an ecumenical ride from this world to the next. One moment we’re in this vale of sorrows, and the next we are up there in heaven. This is heaven— like Alex says, that’s what she loves so much about Alex. But people are so edgy these days, they don’t take yes for an answer. And so impatient. They always require distractions.

Amos Lassen reviews "This Is Heaven"

Cool, folks, cool. The first official review of This Is Heaven is out, and it's by review celebrity Amos Lassen. Here are a few lines:

I have remarked several times that the sign of good literature is that which makes me think and I have been doing a lot of thinking about Michael Ampersant’s wonderful new novel, “This is Heaven”...

...I must admit that I have already had more than my fill of novels predicting the end of time and vampires. Novels like this tend to appear in cycles and it seems that vampires have become a staple in gay literature. I became apprehensive with where this story was going but something said to me to keep reading and I am glad that I did as many of my favorite historical and literary figures make an appearance here— Shakespeare, Albert Camus, Enid Blyton, Mark Twain, and many other writers appear in cameos. The satire becomes quite strong while we move forward and the characters interact with each other. I surprisingly realized that I was totally pulled into the novel...

 ...Ampersant's wit is wonderful and there were times that I could see him in my mind as he sits at his computer writing this with a wry smile on his face. His prose is gorgeous and his characters are fascinating. For those two reasons alone, you should want to read, “This is Heaven”.

Read Lassen 's entire review here

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Why we like Paul Krugman

Krugman is always good, but here's one of his krugest statements. I've been thinking about it since I read it in the NYT in 2016, long before the elections:

And, yes, this being us, now we have to paddle our wares. There's nothing about Krugman in This Is Heaven, but we have an entire Krugman chapter in the GREEN EYES, Chapter 38, titled (don't hold your breath): "What's Paul Krugman's Penis Size."

Fragment:  

I have been courageous enough to ask for a table for two to be ready at seven, we’ll have to wait some more. Howard will have a drink at the bar. Let’s get this on track immediately, let’s talk about the gym. I didn’t have a chance to go to the gym during the last couple of days, too busy. You can’t imagine how busy life is for a hippocampus teacher during the college break, but tomorrow I’ll be going (duh, duh, duh). So I’m teaching French. How interesting. Interesting, indeed. How to turn the conversation to murder? I seemingly can’t make the transition, bubbling instead about the influence of French on the evolution of English, or hiding the many weaknesses of my résumé.

I see two tables cleared next to the central window on the street side, very good tables indeed, when I notice two people to my left, who have replaced the beefy guy. I’ve seen the face of the man before, on my blog, actually. We’re famous in Georgia Beach, seriously, folks. Will I tell Trevor? You think Trevor would be interested in politics, or the New York Times, or economics, or Nobel prizes? Possibly not—you have other problems when you’re a confirmed bachelor without a future. Trevor, who must be looking right into the eyes of Paul Krugman behind me, shows no signs of recognition what-so-ever. It’s crystal-clear, he’s not attracted to the fifty-nine year old Nobel laureate.

Vanity fair

We're also---see last post---featured on:

Two men are better than one

Queer SciFi

and

Gay Flash Fiction

The Reader's Handbook

Cool, folks, we are this week's Sunday Feature of Katie Lewington's The Reader's Handbook. There's a lot of stuff about THIS IS HEAVEN, including an interview. 

Here's one Q/A from it:

What themes are in your writing? 

The two fiction books I’ve finished are fairly erotic, and fairly explicit in places. So, sex would be a theme. But it’s not the principle message. There’s this aphorism by Mark Twain: It’s easier to fool people than convince them that they get fooled. That’s what I’m writing about. Highly topical in the age of Trump, I’d say. I’m interested in language, and lots of my writing is about language and how it’s used and misused. I’m also interested in politics. Here’s one little fragment from This Is Heaven (with Nick, the owner of Nick’s Restaurant, speaking):

“People have a right to forget,” he says. “Think of slavery. That wasn’t ‘slavery’ at all—that was ‘our peculiar institution.’ ‘Suffragette’—that was our term of derision for a bunch of uppity bitches. ‘Miscegenation’—that was miss, you understand, and illegal to boot. ‘Separate but equal’—my God, we swore by it until fucking Truman put them all in the same bunkbeds. And Brown versus Schoolboard—have you seen the clips, Brown emanating from a court hearing, and the entire American press stalking him with sneers and laughter ‘cuz he’s black and wannabe white? And now you guys, with your rainbow marriage. There’s only one solution for real Americans, who have never, ever, been racist, or misogynists, or segregationist, or anti-Semitic, or homophobic, or whatever was wrong with us in the past—or will be wrong with us in the future—and that’s forgetfulness.”

Haha. Can you come up with a more succinct critique of American Conservatism?

Been there, done that

They have arrived!

This Is Heaven arrives in Australia

The King Bolete arrive in Switzerland. They were late this season.

Crush the elites

The ad that ends the culture wars --- This Is Heaven --- Teaser (17) --- reposted

(A few more days to go until the release of This Is Heaven, so here's an old teaser re-posted---our favorite one, in fact, because of the fab gif sequence)

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.


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.”

Insider joke

(We're posting this for a friend of Chang)

"So, you say her name was Alice?"

Working vacation

Charlottesville

Out Write Fair, Washington DC

Perry Brass took us---or at least our book ("you are what you read, or you are what you write")---to the Out Write Fair in Washington DC earlier this month.

He writes: "Just wanted to share these shots of Green Eyes at the OutWrite Fair in DC. You can put them up on Lustspiel if you’d like. I really enjoyed this fair—you would have loved it: droves of good-looking black men! I gave one copy of Green Eyes to my friend Philip Clark who is a young writer working on a history of pornography in the gay men’s community. He will be at the next Rainbow Book Fair on a panel called “Pornography as History.”

Ohne Worte

Kapitalismus Kritik (1) --- 1843

Karl Marx disliked it, "sheer critique of capitalism," although he hated "moralizing" even more. But there you have it. 1843---yet another attempt of THE ECONOMIST to launch yet another magazine and dump it onto unsuspecting Economist subscribers until it flounders---has this add in its latest issue:

You shouldn't worry that most ads in this unsalable magazine are about jet charter (or Hublot watches), but: 

(1) The suit of this this guy who has supposedly chartered this aeroplane and is now striding towards it as if it were an expensive prostitute---isn't he sagging a bit too much for his cut-to-fashion outfit? This is really bespoke (tailor-made), his 'suit'?
(2) And now what; he's walking all the way? Where's the chauffeured limousine that would take him to the gangway? 
(3) And if there's no limousine because he had a bad day in the market, why is he approaching his airborne convenience as if he's trying to commit suicide by cutting his head off the sharp side of the plane's left wing? 

You say.

We picked up two friends from Korea, at the airport of Geneva...

...and the weather was like this.

We simply had to --- Cloud fart --- This Is Heaven

We had this firm resolution: no more TIH teasers until the release date of August 27. And then we saw this gif:

So, there we are in Chapter 37. Note the name of Juliette's new boyfriend---Romeo. Romeo's sugar daddy Roper has just been found dead with a kinky dog collar around his neck, and there is more trouble on the horizon.

“Act Two,” Alex says, and fumbles in the pockets of his shorts. Alex always seems to carry a medication bottle lately, and now he unscrews it and hands a pill to Juliette.
“This will do,” he says.
“What is this?”
“A pill.”
“Oh my God, the pill,” Juliette says.
“The pace quickens in the second part of the play, doesn’t it?” Alex says.
“The pill is Act Four.”
“Act Four, then.”
“Alex, please,” Juliette says. “My Romeo, when am I going to get him back?”
“Soon.”
“Hold on, Alex. First you say Roper is not a big deal. Next thing you say they will put up wanted bills and he has to go into hiding.”
“Juliette, I’m just thinking on my feet.”
“For how long does he have to go into hiding?”
“Until Strada and friends get distracted by something else. They’re up to their ears in unresolved cases like this-—perverts passing away in seedy circumstances. Nobody wants these cases resolved, it’s much too embarrassing. Give it a week. Four days.”
“John said you know the assistant DA for vice?”

Alex grins introspectively and a bit longer than he should. He has been standing next to me and now he adds his habitual arm to my shoulder. “Yes, we do, John, don’t we?”

One is never too old to learn

The last picture of Gore Vidal

Yesterday evening