Before mercury, my blood used to fill thermometers.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Bureaucracy tears. Twilight zone tears.

Title courtesy of Amina Cain's total encapsulation of Mercury sucking away in retrograde. Hopefully the intent of my latest feature at Anobium is not lost - I LOVE THE ART OF SUPERVERT. How I found out about his books when I was thirteen is lost to time, but I am so grateful for that formative influence, for PervScan - where I researched all college papers - and Necrophilia Variations, which I clung to in mass transit and student centers, weeding out the people who saw my carrying it as an invitation to jump to their desired conclusions, turning into the book and conspiring with its brilliance, knowing, no, they won't understand us!

Rudoph Schwarzkogler, Vienna Actionist, subject of Supervert

I think he and Angela St. Lawrence were all the evidence I had of contemporary writing when I was growing up. Popular fiction didn't register to me as "contemporary writing" in as far as I thought of it as whoever was the modern equivalent of Genet, who I also was reading - with great difficulty, but doggedly - in middle school. What a beautiful gift that most certainly and ashamedly must have come from Amazon recommendations. However they found me, I'm so grateful. Even Mercury in retrograde can't reduce the impact their work has on me.

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