Jim Gauer, author of Novel Explosives. — Manuel

Added to my reading list. :up:

Fair pushback on Mason & Dixon - I'll admit I haven't finished it (a few attempts, always faltered in the first section.) I will say: regardless of anything else I've said, I appreciate Pynchon's prose enormously (In M&D, also in ATD, which I also started, but didn't finish.) He crafts sentences beautifully. I think, for me, it's just the nth time the characters are in a scene where the characters are realizing that there's an 'other world' with subversive sexual/sensory/power-relational stuff, and the piling-clauses are pointing to the intricacy of that world, and how it subtends the visible world - at a point I want to just yell - yes, we've had this conversation many times! I get it, man! It's spelled out in the first scene of your first book!

At the same time I'm a huge Melville fan, and he does this stuff too - there's no accounting for where and why you'll cut slack.

Added to my reading list. — csalisbury

Since you like this type of literature, I guarantee you won't regret it.

Fair pushback on Mason & Dixon - I'll admit I haven't finished it (a few attempts, always faltered in the first section.) — csalisbury

I understand. I was in a Pynchon phase at the time, so I forced read through his tough books. With Mason & Dixon, I remember the beginning fairly well, and the ending. The rest is a blur, I recall almost nothing of it. I will have to go back to it sometime, when I'm up for a huge challenge.

In fact, my story with not finishing Pynchon is pretty bad. My biggest embarrassment as a reader which I hesitate to mention: I quit Against the Day at like 900 pages. :scream: I had like 150 pages left, but for some strange reason, I kept pushing it back and reading other stuff so that by the time I got back to it, I was lost. Yeah, insane on my part... I liked it, but burnout got to me. I should've forced myself just a bit more...

at a point I want to just yell - yes, we've had this conversation many times! I get it, man! It's spelled out in the first scene of your first book! — csalisbury

Yep, you are right. You can easily mix parts of V., GR and Against the Day into one book, and it would have significant similarities. It's like a genius paranoid speaking about everything. But clearly, he's not for everyone.

At the same time I'm a huge Melville fan, and he does this stuff too - there's no accounting for where and why you'll cut slack. — csalisbury

It's becoming harder and harder to find authors these days that can write and challenge and surprise you all in one go. I suspect there are some out there, but they're hidden way, way behind the "Bestsellers" section. It's a bit sad and very hard to find new stuff in this type of genre.

You can feel free to carry on, but, I just wanted to point out that, somehow, regardless as to how any literary conversation begins, it ends up as a conversation about Thomas Pynchon.

:lol:

I guess he's that influential.

But I think DFW gets a fair share of attention, as he should. At least he did interview and wrote about many topics. Pynchon only has a few pages of autobiography in slow learner. We know almost nothing about him.

Wallace was rather open, given his issues.

I just think that it's kind of funny. You can start talking about J.D. Salinger, James Joyce, or Haruki Murakami, but the conversation will inevitably come to revolve around Thomas Pynchon. You two can carry on if you like, it's just something that I've noticed about the literary world.

If anyone is interested in carrying on otherwise, as any of this relates to the philosophical goal of The New Sincerity, I think that it's ultimately just kind of a rehash of authenticity. We take authenticity, however, for Baroque decadence, revolutionary cachet, the cultivation of the intellect, virtuosic skill, or fugitive character, and it is all of those things, but such requisite ways of life exist only for certain classes or sets of society. The idea, I think, was to level the playing field so that the reification of authenticity wouldn't require either an extraordinary education and the wealth with which to travel or a serendipitous set of circumstances to allow for that a person can become a legendary outcast and to ground authenticity as a lived experience in daily life. Earlier, I mentioned Pop philosophy. The anonymous text, Manifesto, is somewhat exemplary of how I think that such a project will begin. An established literary critic could write a lengthy and castigating critique of the text, but I think that, as its author has ventured upon something radically new, they ought to be given the benefit of the doubt.

In a way, it's something that people practice all of the time. At the same time, I feel like there's a kind of informal regimen of authenticity to where only certain sets of society, and, at that, only specific people within them, are ever really let to live in such a manner that will let them cultivate a veritable way of life. It's like how an old Gibson is considered as an authentic instrument, whereas any old guitar that anyone has is thought to be a garish imitation. I'd love to own an old Gibson, too, but I neither need nor can afford one to be in an actual band.

To expostulate on this idea that, perhaps, only I am interested in, I should like to share an anecdote of a rather one-sided conversation that I had with an old friend about what it is that men ought to think that they should be like. They had concluded that men ought to think that they should be ethical libertines, which I agreed with, as you do want to be intelligent, charming, cultivated, well-travelled, a good romantic partner, not lacking in social grace, quick witted, and kind. I also, however, found for their conclusion to be absurd, as being let to cultivate such a way of life was already how the aristocracy would manipulate their respective populaces. There's a certain poverty to aristocratic conduct in that, in order to use such people so as to retain order, only they are let to live as the aristocracy believes itself to be better for doing. The rest of their regimen becomes subject to a set of cult pathologies and neuroses concerning codes of conduct and the attempt to organize society in such a manner that would let their regimen survive. If you watch the film, Ludwig, you will find that being an aristocrat was not this grand whirlwind adventure undertaken by a cultivated intelligentsia so as to cross the threshold of the perceived boundaries of the human experience, but, rather, a maddening and quixotic attempt on the part of any person who would find for the various forms of psychological repression insufferable to liberate themselves from the very social order that granted them their somewhat illusory status in the world. Luchino Visconti casted the Swan King, Ludwig I of Bavaria, as an Absurd man. Given Visconti's role within the aristocracy of his day, I think that it would be safe to assume that he took a certain degree of poetic license. Nevertheless, I think that the presentation of Ludwig I as someone who had waged a mad revolt so as to be let to live an authentic life was just simply to the point.

To bring us back to the Postmodern condition, as, though they are still around, the role that the aristocracy has to play today is largely symbolic, what I will say of this idea of an ethical libertine is that there is no reason to convince a person that, in so far that they should so desire to be as in any British Invasion band, they should choose to be within either The Small Faces or The Kinks as something like that is already what people have implicitly believed for centuries.

The mistake that people make, however, is to assume that, because of existent forms of class, and all that "class" is is some form of social order or another, it would require extraordinary circumstances for just about anyone to cultivate an authentic way of life. Authenticity really is for everyone. From Pete Townshend destroying his guitar on stage to the riots that occurred during shows in the early days of The Jesus and Mary Chain, it should not take such forms of personal revolt to get that point across.

Primal Scream sampled The Wild Angels so as to finally play off the lifestyle extremism born in response to the burning of Beatles records. They brought the rave scene together in a way like that.

For me, though, it's just not about the drugs anymore. I want to live. Anarchists are somewhat notorious for their celebration of minor crimes, as if shoplifting could ever expropriate capital to a point of creating a more liberal and equitable society. There's something that such acts teach people, however. You don't ask for your freedom; you just take it. I've recently turned thirty-one, however, and have finally been able to let go of youthful rebellion. I've come to an age of maturity to where I understand that I never really wanted to do things like crash some young urban professional's wedding party in a dancehall that I used to frequent and get completely toasted on their free champagne. I kind of just wanted to the disc jockey to throw it back with some Northern Soul and actually enjoy having a place to dance.

I'm kind of an independent music scholar, and, so, I use a lot of references that, perhaps, not everyone can relate to. Now, I kind of want to be like Bob Dylan, Tim Buckley, The Tallest Man on Earth, or The Milk Carton Kids. People, however, still have certain assumptions about authenticity and class. If you play the mandocello, an entirely good instrument, like a Gold Tone, is still not a Gilchrist. I'd consider purchasing a Gilchrist upon landing myself with a career that could afford one, but, it is entirely absurd to expect for any veritable mandocello player to just simply have one already. All that an electric mandocello is is just not a Gibson Les Paul, and, so, it'd be absurd to play one at all, but I think that that should get my point across.

To return to the David Foster Wallace essay, in order for authenticity to be considered as something for everyone, I think that we'll have to be forgiving of that it is bound to be somewhat awkward at first. Though I am just trying to double my listenership from three to six as of right now, to only example that I really have of this other than Manifesto is my bandcamp. A literary critic could tear my poetry to shreds and it is not quite good enough for One Little Independent Record Company to release, but, when you do think about it, it is kind of better than almost every other Spoken Word page on bandcamp. I don't assume for this to be because of that I am a superior poet; I think that it is so because of my approach to authenticity, which, with what pretense I can currently eschew, I do think is somewhat radically new and could, in some way, shape, or form, ultimately change the world for the better.

In a way, though, all of the human experience is kind of authentic. As much as there is to learn from Jean Baudrillard, I think that there's also something off about this idea that any aspect of the human experience can truly to be simulated. The 2017 film, Ghost in the Shell, is actually what it appears to be. It's a spectacular form of pure entertainment, and one that is fairly enjoyable by that account. Even though the experience of watching Ghost in the Shell is kind of somatic, it's not as if it occurs on some separate plane of reality.

There's also that there's a certain degree of snobbery associated with authenticity that I, at least, find to be distasteful. Even though I like the band, SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE, better than kind of a lot of musical acts, I understand that there are contributing cultural circumstances to that a person is even aware of them and don't assume for anyone who hasn't heard of them to somehow be disingenuous in their appreciation of music or other forms of art.

That's a fairly lengthy post. If anyone reads it, I hope that you will enjoy what I have had to say about this. I think that it's fairly erudite, but it could just ultimately be somewhat idiosyncratic and eccentric. It's just something that I've put a lot of thought into. It's probably somehow entertaining, to say the least. I will stop going on about this now, though, as I kind of feel like I am the only person who has any real idea as to what I'm on about, despite my concerted effort to have presented this in a relatable manner that is not rather characteristically obscure. Oh well, I guess. I, at least, see the humor in that I'm kind of an unfortunate obscurant. "Define irony", y'know?

Sure, it is kinda funny.

As for the rest of your post, I don't think I have much to add that wouldn't be repetitive. In an case, interesting topic. :up:

Well, thanks. I am just very excited to talk about this idea, but, as I don't think that it has really been put forth before, find it somewhat difficult to explain.

I will also note that I have, in part, been inspired to conceptualize this because of a dig that Guy Debord made of the ruling class when he talked about "people that don't know how to live" in Panegyric. I think that that is one of the more effective and poignant insults in all of human history, and one that he earned the right to level. When you think about something like the traditional Japanese society that culminated in the cinematic brilliance of Yasujirō Ozu that was as much of a critique of such a society as it was a lament for cultural loss, you do have to wonder as to just what the rigid form of social order was really for. Who, in Japan, really was let to the kind of ascetic discipline to develop the way of life that Zen philosophy was thought to have offered? It was ultimately just a few poets and artists. The rest of Japanese society had to focus upon retaining the social order. In Japan, there's, of course, a very complex history of the Meji Restoration and political fallout of the Second World War, but I think that Japanese traditionalism is somewhat exemplary of what can become absurd of the serendipitous aristocracy of wisdom put forth by Arthur Schopenhauer.

Being said, Debord's dig hurts me too. For all of my youthful rebellion and whimsical bouts, though there is much that I should prefer to remember well, I have to wonder about what kind of life I lead. There'a part of town next to the park beneath a bridge on a dead-end street that I once considered setting up kind of an Anarchist flop house in. What kind of existence is that!? It'd be a good thing to do to give people a place to crash, but it was ultimately fairly despairing of me to have romanticized a setting from the film, Children of Men, like that.

In ways, I feel very torn by my pursuit of an academic career and my general opposition to the social order enforced by the beau monde, but, having made such a mistake, myself, I do think that it could stand to be said that people, particularly those who are poor, really ought to aim a little bit higher than mere survival on the so-called "bohemian dregs".

I've worked with a lot of black dishwashers and bussers who sell weed. Because I'm the sort of person who cares about things like the status of black people in American society, I've put, at least, some thought into their general living situation. People in the service industry tend to get on very well with them because they tend to be some of the more agreeable drug dealers in the world. They don't really care about them, though. The reason that a person sells weed in the back of the house of a restaurant is because they're too intelligent for any other form of criminal activity and, as you would know with any experience in the service industry, people who are good enough at washing dishes or bussing tables for managers not to want to fire are so few and far between that they have almost no chance of ever being promoted, which is how they end up having to sell weed in order to live in a fairly decent neighborhood. The realization that they should come to is the same one that I did as a bar-back, which is that the service industry is a losing game for anyone with a fair amount of intelligence and common sense and that they should probably enroll within a community college. People can only come to such realizations by their own accord, however, and all too often, as in my case, it takes until you're nearly middle-aged before you figure things like that out.

In a way, it's really kind of an issue with hopelessness and a lack of self-confidence. People revel in despair because they just don't believe that they have a future. To continue with the metaphor of the black community, as ridiculous as A Tribe Called Quest can be, the promotion of black positivity and cultivation of common wisdoms with "Can I Kick It" really probably did a lot of people more good than the near nihilism of something like Trap music. Trap music is a reflection of the Postmodern condition, however.

I don't know. Within sets of society that I do actually frequent, namely local music scenes, I think that there's a certain poverty to that people almost devote their lives to maintaining their status at certain shows. You'll meet people who can give you an entire cataloged history of Punk who have just the right set of patches and obscure band t-shirts who have never even played an instrument or engaged in any other form of creative pursuit whatsoever. If the situation is to where people feel as if they have no future, then, from this, what conclusion there is to draw is that they should create one. Perhaps, that's kind of a platitude, but what I think is particularly tragic of the Postmodern condition is people assume for social apathy, or even antipathy, to be a kind of state of affairs that they just simply have to accept, when they really ought to care to cultivate and create communities that would feign prove otherwise.

I do feel like I have gone on about this for too considerable of a length, but, to return to The New Sincerity, Jason Pierce, with Spiritualized, has a song that was thankfully popularized by Radiohead, who doesn't do as good of a rendition of it, called "Hold On". As much as I can appreciate avant-garde aesthetic, I do feel kind of like the generalized appeal to some sort of arcane chic does have the effect of producing a culture where people don't really understand that it takes kind of a lot of courage to create works of art out of genuine care for a community and what effect that it is that you have on it. It's not an overly simple, cliché, or banal. It's a beautiful song that probably got kind of a lot of people through difficult times.

Infinite Jest, I think, focuses on addiction because of that you only really find these examples of what he calls "overcredulity" and "softness" within communities in recovery. All art doesn't need to inspire some form of catharsis, but I think that it's ultimately fairly tragic that the only people in the world who seem to have any idea as to how it is that they should live their lives have almost all somehow destroyed them already.

In my younger days, my way of convincing people of creating a culture that respects personal autonomy and that has a certain degree of care for cultivating a good community was with an aesthetic that I had lifted off of a set of second-wave gentrifiers and termed "slacker punk". While I do still contend that there was absolutely no reason whatsoever not to let this become either a cult or global phenomenon, as there is not a person in the world who wants to be subject to the cult pathology that their style of dress ought to indicate their social standing, even among the arbiters of the fashion industry, and to have called me a "poser" for merely taking cultural influence from said group of people and putting their own plan of action into operation, as this would have relied upon me landing a job at a coffee shop, which I have come to accept as an impossibility, I am willing to let go of that.

What I will say of this now is that how to get any number of left-wing Liberal hipsters, Anarchists, and other so-called "bohemians" to come to the set of realizations that they should so as to let everything go well for all of us, is that what you should tell them is something to the effect of that it would be cooler for a person to go to art school than it would for them to attempt to land themselves in the New York City underground. I know that this is what to say because I have put an extraordinary amount of thought into how to do this, as I have found that the kind of community that I should like to participate within just simply does not exist yet. Literally posting that anywhere on the internet will have the effect of liberating kind of a lot of people from kind of a lot of cult pathology.

I've come up with a lot of ideas like this in my life and what I can never seem to get across is that someone just taking me up on one of these easy way outs is probably what there is to do about any of this. I may have still called it Noise Rock at the time, but there having been an Anarcho-Pacifist Experimental Rock and Roll band of moderate success in the late oughts would have made it so that there wasn't anyone in the world who felt too much of a need to pay too much attention to Vice News. I've let go of that, too, though.

That's all of the advice that I have to give about any of this. Thanks for readings these lengthy ramblings if you do. I'll talk to you when or if ever, I guess. 'Til then!

I'm not going to follow what happens next, but am just going to bump this thread so as to leave you with this one. So long everyone!