Conrad Johnson's Blog, page 38

Bipolar Shakespeare And The American Dream

I guess happiness is not a state you want to be in all the time.--John Belushi
Four hundred years have passed and Shakespeare's works still thrive. Herman Melville sold barely 300 copies of Moby Dick before he died and now it's considered one of the greatest novels of all time. Vincent van Gogh never sold a single piece. Let me try to connect the dots. Call it "Finger painting from across the pond".
Here's an article today from The Telegraph, entitled, "Globe audience faints at 'grotesquely violent' Titus Andronicus." But...but...but...shouldn't fiction be geared toward panty wetters and escapists who want a Walmart purchased, mass trade paperback about Calvin Klein-like hunks and the women who swoon for them? After all, that's what brings in the cha-ching these days. Or cartoonish, serial killers created by the marketing genius, James Patterson. Oh boy. Artsy fartsy, artsy fartsy. This blogger has outdated standards and doesn't understand that it's all about the money.
Believe me when I say that I know that writing is hard work. I've been doing and teaching it for thirty years. What's wrong with making a Federal Reserve Note or two on it? Nothing really. But I'd rather be hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie. I recently interviewed a best selling, romance writer who claimed that she didn't want to be remembered as just another 'flash in the pan' author. Bullshit. She didn't even know who Anton Chekov was when I asked her if there was any connection between the title of her NYT best seller and that legendary author's short story which shared the same title. 
Okay. Perhaps I'm a bit harsh and envious because my books don't move. But I'll be damned if I didn't claim my right to be a bonafide critic, having earned a Masters in Classical and Modern Literature. I wish I would have learned how to be a gunsmith instead but that's a topic for a different post...
The thorn that's stuck in my typist's claw today is the fact that timeless literature (and art) is remembered long past the writer's drop six feet under for it's versatility, poignancy of emotional intelligence and grasp of humanity. That's what Nobel Prize Laureates are recognized for. Who was the last American to claim that prestigious award? Do the homework. I've already turned mine in and I don't like cheaters, copycats or cliché composers. I know, I know...there's nothing new under the sun, but the clouds that obscure the American Dream (which today has been reduced to staying sane and out of jail) will never shade the eternal power of divergent thinking. Strain your chemtrail covered brain and read one of the classics. It might depress you but so what? Just take a pill or go shopping at Walmart. Your imaginary, mental equilibrium will temporarily be regained and nobody will consider you bothersome.

If Jesus Loves Me, Why Am I Still Depressed?

Hell is other people--Jean-Paul Sartre
Loneliness and solitude are clearly different. One is a choice and the other is a condition either temporary or ongoing. Individual financial wealth has nothing to do with either. Rich people can be sad and poor ones happy. Melancholia is not just the name of a film starring Kirsten Dunst and directed by Lons von Trier. However, it truly is a world that will hit all of us at sometime in our lives. Just like in the movie, each of us react differently to its earth shattering effects regardless of race, creed, color or age. So take a pill, have a drink or smoke a joint. Most believe it will help. Forget about the meaning of life. Pay no attention to what the Buddha says that discretion is the very purpose of existence. Happiness is a warm gun.

How Free Porn Destroyed Independent Publishing

The supply of words in the world market today is plentiful, but the demand is limited.--Lech Walesa
Imagine a group of curious (perhaps horny) twelve year old boys, shut up in a garage somewhere, smoking cigarettes and eagerly pawing through a copy of Playboy magazine. Were they desperate to find quality writing, slick with contemporary colloquialisms that inspired reflections about the meaning of life? Of course not. Tits and asses. The promise of things to come!

Okay. I was once one of those nasty boys, and all I remember about the moment was the excitement that we were all doing something naughty. Nothing else. Just the emotional memory remains. In contrast, I also recall reading The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum and having a schoolboy crush on Dorothy. She was my first literary heroine.  And then came Alice. And Woodstock. And the Jefferson Airplane. And the White Rabbit. And things were never the same again.
I wrote my first short story in fourth grade. Some copycat stuff about a WWII airplane fighter locked in a dogfight (influenced by Snoopy and the Red Baron maybe) and there were kids in class who actually wanted to pay me for it because it was so good. Boy stuff. Action. Adventure. Facing death with a stiff upper...
By the time the Internet came of age, I had already wasted my best academic years and earned an M.A. in Classical and Modern Literature. There was nothing left for me to do but teach, which seemed much better than being a swabbie in the Coast Guard like I had done for six years before college. But I never forgot that fourth grade writing spotlight and I still dreamed...
Fast forward to middle age, deconstructionism and see naked lady then-point-click-point-click and watch a lot of licking, sucking and fu....Right from the comfort of your living room couch. Ouch!
Total two dimensional, emotional engagement. Or disengagement. And to see the climax you had to pay!
But now it's all piped to your homes on high speed broadband for free (except for the ISP costs, of course). At least that's what people tell me.
Now. I could look up the statistics and prove to you how popular porn is on the Internet but I don't really have to, do I? But the truly staggering fact is that with the increase of bare ass naked action available to almost anyone at the push of a button, the desire for meaningful literature has proportionally decreased, forcing those of us who still dream of being authors to either conform to base market demands, give away our work for free or just give up. 
Given a choice between buying a book that might change your life or watching some big, fake breasted woman getting it, if I were a twelve year old again, I'd stand up Dorothy, Alice, Charlotte and all the others in a stroke. Is this what feminism represents? Bodice rippers and bj's, indeed.
Thanks Hollywood. Thanks Grace Slick. Thanks crazy, naked Meth Maniac running through Walmart pulling James Patterson books from the shelves. Your thong straps are showing and it makes me ache for dental floss because there's something stuck in between my teeth and it doesn't feel right.

                        

John H. Byk and How Free Porn Destroyed Independent Publishing

The supply of words in the world market today is plentiful, but the demand is limited.--Lech Walesa
Imagine a group of curious (perhaps horny) twelve year old boys, shut up in a garage somewhere, smoking cigarettes and eagerly pawing through a copy of Playboy magazine. Were they desperate to find quality writing, slick with contemporary colloquialisms that inspired reflections about the meaning of life? Of course not. Tits and asses. The promise of things to come!

Okay. I was once one of those nasty boys, and all I remember about the moment was the excitement that we were all doing something naughty. Nothing else. Just the emotional memory remains. In contrast, I also recall reading The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum and having a schoolboy crush on Dorothy. She was my first literary heroine.  And then came Alice. And Woodstock. And the Jefferson Airplane. And the White Rabbit. And things were never the same again.
I wrote my first short story in fourth grade. Some copycat stuff about a WWII airplane fighter locked in a dogfight (influenced by Snoopy and the Red Baron maybe) and there were kids in class who actually wanted to pay me for it because it was so good. Boy stuff. Action. Adventure. Facing death with a stiff...
By the time the Internet came of age, I had already wasted my best academic years and earned an M.A. in Classical and Modern Literature. There was nothing left for me to do but teach, which seemed much better than being a swabbie in the Coast Guard like I had done for six years before college. But I never forgot that fourth grade writing spotlight and I still dreamed...
Fast forward to middle age, deconstructionism and see naked lady then-point-click-point-click and watch a lot of licking, sucking and fu....Right from the comfort of your living room couch. Ouch!
Total two dimensional, emotional engagement. Or disengagement. And to see the climax you had to pay!
But now it's all piped to your homes on high speed broadband for free (except for the ISP costs, of course). At least that's what people tell me.
Now. I could look up the statistics and prove to you how popular porn is on the Internet but I don't really have to, do I? But the truly staggering fact is that with the increase of bare ass naked action available to almost anyone at the push of a button, the desire for meaningful literature has proportionally decreased, forcing those of us who still dream of being authors to either conform to base market demands, give away our work for free or just give up. 
Given a choice between buying a book that might change your life or watching some big, fake breasted woman getting plugged, if I were a twelve year old again, I'd stand up Dorothy, Alice, Charlotte and all the others in a stroke. Is this what feminism represents? Bodice rippers and bj's, indeed.
Thanks Hollywood. Thanks Grace Slick. Thanks crazy, naked Meth Maniac running through Walmart pulling James Patterson books from the shelves. Your thong straps are showing and it makes me ache for dental floss because there's something stuck in between my teeth and it doesn't feel right.

                        

The Time Trinity God Faces: Starring Jesus Christ, Karl Marx and Einstein

Believe me: I know fables and mythology and Christianity is neither. -- C.S. Lewis
Straight with the slight bias I offer you a reference to Lewis, but it's the least I can do. After all, he was a man of great integrity (as well as humane humanity) as anyone who has ever walked the earth.

But this piece is not about Lewis.
(At least I don't think so)...
It's really about a priest, a Marxist and a divergent thinker in a bar.

Pass the bottle...


And Jesus nods and smiles like a normal guy when he enters, but his entourage looks suspicious and frightened. Strangers in a strange town. They might get their asses kicked.

"Oy vey," the Marxist whispers to Einstein sitting next to him who is spinning a coin at different speeds on the bar top.
"What?" he says. "Your education is interfering with my learning."
"It's that miracle dude everyone's talking about."
Einstein glances at Jesus and returns to his now wobbling coin and slams down a drink. Maybe it stops spinning and maybe it doesn't. Who knows?

"I do" said Jesus walking up behind the two and throwing his arms around them, pulling them carpenter-style against his barreled chest.

The Marxist snorts and says, "Then toss your money onto the bar, Jesus of Nazareth."

Jesus laughs so contagiously that his disciples become more relaxed and the pretty bartendress scurries over, smiling and pouring drinks for all three.

"Who's paying for this?" asks the Marxist.
Einstein bolts to his feet from his bar stool and shouts, "Eureka!"
"Cut him off, Miss," says Jesus, patting him on the back.
"What? asked the Marxist.
"What?" said Einstein.
What?" said Jesus also.

Pass the bottle...

Spend a summer in hospital recovering from major stomach surgery (or better yet on a beach) and read the Polish scholar, Leszek Kolakowski's epic and definitive tome-- Main Currents of Marxism.  Or the entire bible including the genealogies (begat, begat, begat)  or read Einstein's Relativity: The Special and General Theory. Read them all. What the hell. You might not be able to soon.

Tell you what. If anyone has read at least two of the great books I listed then let's dance. Otherwise, be considered wise and drink quietly alone instead of opening your mouth to show what a fool you are.

Pass the bottle for the last (?) time.

John H. Byk and The Time Trinity God Faces: Starring Jesus Christ, Karl Marx and Einstein

Believe me: I know fables and mythology and Christianity is neither. -- C.S. Lewis
Straight with the slight bias I offer you a reference to Lewis, but it's the least I can do. After all, he was a man of great integrity (as well as humane humanity) as anyone who has ever walked the earth.

But this piece is not about Lewis.
(At least I don't think so)...
It's really about a priest, a Marxist and a divergent thinker in a bar.

Pass the bottle...


And Jesus nods and smiles like a normal guy when he enters, but his entourage looks suspicious and frightened. Strangers in a strange town. They might get their asses kicked.

"Oy vey," the Marxist whispers to Einstein sitting next to him who is spinning a coin at different speeds on the bar top.
"What?" he says. "Your education is interfering with my learning."
"It's that miracle dude everyone's talking about."
Einstein glances at Jesus and returns to his now wobbling coin and slams down a drink. Maybe it stops spinning and maybe it doesn't. Who knows?

"I do" said Jesus walking up behind the two and throwing his arms around them, pulling them carpenter-style against his barreled chest.

The Marxist snorts and says, "Then toss your money onto the bar, Jesus of Nazareth."

Jesus laughs so contagiously that his disciples become more relaxed and the pretty bartendress scurries over, smiling and pouring drinks for all three.

"Who's paying for this?" asks the Marxist.
Einstein bolts to his feet from his bar stool and shouts, "Eureka!"
"Cut him off, Miss," says Jesus, patting him on the back.
"What? asked the Marxist.
"What?" said Einstein.
What?" said Jesus also.

Pass the bottle...

Spend a summer in hospital recovering from major stomach surgery (or better yet on a beach) and read the Polish scholar, Leszek Kolakowski's epic and definitive tome-- Main Currents of Marxism.  Or the entire bible including the genealogies (begat, begat, begat)  or read Einstein's Relativity: The Special and General Theory. Read them all. What the hell. You might not be able to soon.

Tell you what. If anyone has read at least two of the great books I listed then let's dance. Otherwise, be considered wise and drink quietly alone instead of opening your mouth to show what a fool you are.

Pass the bottle for the last (?) time.

John H. Byk and The Time Trinity God Faces Starring Jesus Christ, Karl Marx and Einstein

Believe me: I know fables and mythology and Christianity is neither. -- C.S. Lewis
Straight with the slight bias I offer you a reference to Lewis, but it's the least I can do. After all, he was man of great integrity (as well as humane humanity) as anyone who has ever walked the earth.

But this piece is not about Lewis.
(At least I don't think so)...
It's really about a priest, a rabbi and a divergent thinker in a bar.

Pass the bottle...


And Jesus nods and smiles like a normal guy but his entourage looks suspicious and frightened. Strangers in a strange town.

"Oy vey," the rabbi whisper to Einstein sitting next to him and spinning a coin at different speeds.
"What?" he says. "Your education is interfering with my learning."
"It's that miracle dude everyone's talking about."
Einstein glances at Jesus and returns to his now wobbling coin and slams down a drink. Maybe it stops spinning and maybe it doesn't. Who knows?

"I do" said Jesus walking up behind the two and throwing his arms around them, pulling them carpenter-style against his barreled chest.

The rabbi snorts and says, "Then toss your money onto the bar, Jesus of Nazareth."

Jesus laughs so contagiously that his disciples become more relaxed and the pretty bartendress scurries offer, smiling and pouring drinks for all three.

"Who's paying for this?" asked the rabbi.
Einstein bolts to his feet from his bar stool and shouts, "Eureka!"
"Cut him off, Miss," says Jesus, patting him on the back.
"What? asked the rabbi.
"What?" said Einstein.
What?" said Jesus also.

Pass the bottle...

Spend a summer in hospital recovering from major stomach surgery and read the Polish scholar, Leszek Kolakowski's epic and definitive tome-- Main Currents of Marxism.  Or the bible including the genealogies (begat, begat, begat)  or read Einstein's Relativity: The Special and General Theory. Read them all. What the hell. You could not be able to tomorrow.

Tell you what. If anyone has read at least two of the great books I listed then let's dance.

Pass the bottle for the last (?) time.

Toi Thomas and The Eternal Curse Series

Indie author, Toi Thomas, shares her passion for reading and writing, especially the paranormal Eternal Curse novel.

John H. Byk and The Blood Eagle Moonwalk

Any man more right than his neighbors constitutes a majority of one.--Henry David Thoreau
It is horrifically astonishing to watch--climate change, economic collapse and a series of blood red moons. Or maybe I'm just a 21st Century Schizoid Man as the legendary guitarist, Greg Lake, prophesied in a song with his 60's band, Crimson King. You decide. Angel or devil?Yes.I'm also talking about the new TV hit series on the History Channel. But let me...It is rumored that Jorge Luis Borges softly chanted Old Norse/Anglo-Saxon poetry when he passed away. After hearing this many years ago, I finally understand.Those were legends in an ancient language that survived a global holocaust as we are trying to do now. Changing weather patterns allowed the Vikings to navigate previously frozen tight seaways and reshape the landscape then, forming what we now call modern Eurasia. Like I said--astonishing.Massive traumatic bloodshed served as their wake, stretching all the way from New Foundland to even subcontinental Asia, plus of course, deep into the steppes of Mother Russia and beyond. No matter how much the Scandinavians try to whitewash the media (coincidentally in concurrent contrast to the History's Channel's brilliant production), the Vikings were savage. Period. Well.They founded Dublin, didn't they?Yes they did and I could just rest my case there and let you do the homework but I have chocolate and coffee with me now so I won't.Old Norse mythology was, unlike the Old Testament, oral tradition so we discount it.  We shouldn't. Stories shared by ancient cultures were sacred and not meant to be tampered with like many fundamentals slam about their own, written sacred scripts today. But as language was designed to do, changes occur regardless of best efforts to preserve because humans are fallible.Who has read the complete works of Borges and interpreted them 'correctly' (if such a thing would be possible)?  Like all great visionary minds, he was more than bipolar. He was supra polar.Oh, yes yes. We can look at the works of Kafka, or even artists such as Goya, and wonder: Was there really a 'dark' period in their lives or did it just manifest itself at a certain time?I believe the latter. But I am only one man and I might not be more right than my neighbor.All I know is that what is happening currently in humanity's space/time/dimensional vortex has obviously happened before many times. The only difference today is that we are more globally connected than ever. What has not changed is the prevailing power of words and the definite discovery of what makes gravity work. Perhaps only after the grave will any of us know. I, like most self righteous people, want to go to a better place (but not today). Call it heaven. Call it Nirvāna. Or even call it the Mother Ship if you want. It doesn't matter. Eventually, it will be lost in translation because change is constant. Embrace it. Capitalize on it. Or fear it as those who were butchered by the Vikings did. I hope to sing softly about it for as long as I can from here on.

Rachel Van Dyken and the Elite Series

New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal superstar romance novelist,  Rachel Van Dyken, turns up to talk about her prolific writing, success and support for the American Diabetes Association through sales from her new release: Elite (Eagle Elite).