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to: kiphooker@2.28.2002: So much for the disappearing act

hey

 
i'm not sure what to say after a period of dropping off the face of the earth.  i suppose i understand.  there are times in life where friends are not so needed as in the past.  but this friend has always had a certain tenacity (some people call it giving a shit).  so anyway.  oh yeah we live in nashville, tn we moved there about a year ago.  ___ goes to vandy, i'm unemployed. i've taken to latch hook, eames chairs and bearshare. what's up with you. over xmas i talked with Jonelle and she said many things.  it was hard to ascertain whether or not you were doing ok.  well i hope so.
 
i hope the coast continues to rotate around the sun and all else remains in orderly fashion.  don't be a stranger.
yr pal
 
 

from:    kiphooker@ 3.3.2002 - 2.44 am: No worse for fortune

    In July of 1969 three men fell off the face of the earth.  They returned a week later with moon rocks and one of them now does informercials.  It's an expanding universe.  As for myself I have not fell off the earth.  Newton has
made that very hard to do.  Einstien did not help much either.  Falling off the earth is even harder than falling in love.  I did the latter.  You might remember her.  She was at my Christmas party.  We have been together for a
year now and there are plans for doing this longer and even making of point of using this to our tax advantage.  I like these plans.  They are not all my own.  She gave me a ring and proposed.  I won't say much more a/b her than that now b/c more can always be said later . . . but she is so magnanimouse and spectacular . . . she knows more a/b theoretical physics than me and for a lark spends her expendable credits in philosophy classes.  She is beautiful as well . . . this hurts nothing in an expanding universe.
    In my expanding universe there has not been much to fill the ether.  I no longer work for the man.  Now I work in research and development for an atm  company.  I do not know how much longer this arrangement can last.  As for city lights that has turned to a bust.  And not the good kind of bust.  I sent them the rest of my book and never heard another word.  I sent a query to another house . . . they asked for a synopsis . . . I sent a proposal and they have solicited.  After they have read the manuscript and decided to publish I will be the fucking shit and your concern and "giving a damn" will be more warranted.  I look forward to this.     I have started to roll my own cigarettes.   By this method I save almost a hundred dollars a moth.  If I quit I could save another 24.  I do not plan of saving that further amount.  I am also listening to a lot of Quasi and Tricky.  I don't think I have ever thanked you proper for introducing me to independent music.  Thank you so much . . . I feel like such a nuveau riche mentioning things like that . . . but the music you started me on has brought such pleasure. :)     It was strange finding your mail electronic last night.  I received the post you mailed to my parents but did not want to write you until I had secured a publishing deal and would not feel so awkward confronting the city lights debacle.  You have made this difficult by e-mailing me and there is not a thing Newton or Albert can now do.  It was strange to hear from you b/c Amy is down and stopped by yesterday.  We sat around drinking absinthe and
talking.  There is something amazing a/b Amy.  That something is that regardless the miles or years we can always continue right where we left.  I like that.
    Tonight Amy and I went to a karaoke bar.  I am now home.  That is how I am writing you.  You are now in Nashville.  Bronco lives there as well.  It sounds like a grand place.  I recently read a book a/b Dostoevsky in Paris. That sounds as if it were a grand place as well.  I would like to visit them both.  
    This is all I have to say right now.  I hope to say more later.  I hope to hear more later.  I am sure you will be helpful in this endeavor. 
yours by virtue of this binary cipher


to: kiphooker@ monday march 11, 2002...i feel old.  i know that's not true. its not like 23 is the end of the road, but that i've settled, stopped, frozen in inactivity.  like this apartment is my retirement home and instead of shuffleboard i organize mp3s of bands i liked in college.  maybe if i had a real job, left the house more often, i would feel better. i wouldn't be better though and that's the thing that keeps me home.  to be better. ___ always asks what do you want to do? i answer be with you.  he doesn't think that's a real thing to do. i agree but always pretend to be offended.  what else is there to do?  in nashville, to me means him and waiting for his school to finish and for US to start someday somewhere lese.  he says go back to school, but school is the crutch he's using to pretend like something is happening in his life.  i came and went from grad school and it left in me in debt and sad about living, about smartness. like smartness is some commodity the univ of chicago sold me and i don't know how to use it.  lee says start a zine, get involved. i don't know about that stuff. i never got along comfortably in the scene i see no reason it should start now in this city.  i say, i'll get a job in an away city maybe in publishing.  i'd like to do copy editing at a magazine.  i know i can't write, but my reading skills are excellent. i used to fill these empty hours with books i never got to in school but i'm not into it.  picking them out is so hard, i never know what the right book is.  people is the only thing i'm good at and there's no one around.  all i do is email my far off friends and tell them stories about this place, trying to make it out to be happy, exciting times.  its no better for anyone else though my college friends are frozen in their undergrad worlds: marriage, friends, school.   how can we be so young and have given up already? is there anything else?  i wish i could start drinking, but that was chicago for me and so much fun, now it seems a waste.  i remember having fun.  now.   during these moments i've always turned to a song.  reciting the words that give hope, or reaffirm despair.  thus the mp3s, the search for the perfect song.  why does music always have to be alone?

here i am in the never change continuum.  easy does it, down the road.  the bluegrass songs on the radio are so sad but sound so happy, i need for things to fit together...what about electricity, inspiration, the tender moment? how has this passed me by? is this what getting old is?  before there was always someone to believe in, to prod and pretend achievement now all those protégés have gone on.   i'm happy you're happy.  girls and boys make all these things ok.  you can forgive the devil for the right woman. I don't care if your book ever gets published.  the commodity of your book is unimportant.  write another one and publish that.  you must have learned something in the years between.  you should put your guns to good use, do so by whatever means you are comfortable with that is meant to be something nice, that says.  you have done enough one your own.  my advice to you has always been ill gotten...thanks for being a friend...


from kiphooker@ 3.26.02:Fourscore and seven cigarettes ago

Maybe it's not a crisis of identity.  Perhaps it is one of conclusion.  You
live your days of dreams and expectations as fevers.  You redeem these dreams
and fevers and are issued life.  Life is outside the lunchboxes and their
sanctions.  It is wholly new and not as promised.  It is not direction.  It
is the same to day the same tomorrow differing only in the maybe bill and
dinner distinction.  Distractions are no good.  Distractions are curses.
They are symptoms.  Books are no good.  They pinpoint highlights and expunge
breathing.  Aging is no good.  Aging means you can't do it again.  And what
you can do again you have done before.  There are no more firsts.  There are
no more commencements.  You are reaching the outside of the target audience.
Instead of rejecting the culture, the culture will soon be rejecting you.
The inevitable is of course the indelible.  And it's steaming on an
undeterable track.  So what if Hemingway was in his late twenties when the
sun was the only thing rising for Jake.  So what if Henry Miller was in his
fourties when he was living and writing the Tropics.  So what if most of the
backstreet boys are older than us.  Plenty fucking what.  There is to much
passion and appalling beauty of this world for it to be whittled and
distilled down to 23 . . . 24 . . . 25 years.  A hundred years could not soak
it up.  A thousand years would not begin to spill.  Sure our bodies will
creak wan.  But we have not worn them so yet, and will not for many more
years than we have so far known.  It is being fitted for dour thoughts that
is the ill.  It is auditioning for sour thoughts that is the error.  That is
the holocaust of lesser celebration.  That is the misfortune of our age.  And
I won't have any part of it.  Neither should you.

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