bi_janus
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Posts posted by bi_janus
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Yes, the pain of the landlocked. Very nice setup, Chris, and away we go.
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I've been bouncing back and forth among the original version, take 2, and Jake's Hand. What a great, instructive ride!
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R,
I had quite a correspondence with Colinian about the subject. All secrets revealed: the drug, acyclovir, does exist and is an antiviral used now mainly against herpes, a disease with which I could not afflict poor Colm. The drug or its produrug, valacyclovier, does on very rare occasion produce Cotard's delusion. A metabolite of those drugs apparently causes the delusion, and hemodialysis does clear the metabolite and thus cures the disease. Neither drug is used for mono, which is caused by Epstein-Barr virus, because they do not reduce the duration or severity of mono, except in rare cases where intensive care is required, as acyclovir is approved for intravenous administration.
I think the story failed a bit because although the circumstances are unusual, it was really about one boy failing to notice another until something dire happened.
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Perambulations
Bi Janus
In the field—
the back yard—
very small ones
run here and to
kicking a ball
disconnected
parents gaze
at screens
alerting them
to monsters
This is the ritual
for our age
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For any of you who use Scrivener for longer works, the iOS version is now available in the Apple App Store. The app allows you to sync your scrivener projects with Dropbox or between Macs and your iOS device. The app has been a long time coming and seems stable and remarkably full-featured.
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I had a chance to read Words as Nigel was completing it. What impresses me about Nigel's works is that I can see his growth with each one. This one I love for its main character, a good man who can machinate against all the a**holes around him to the benefit of family members who are decent. The story reminds me that some debts must be repaid many times. Good show, Nigel.
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Study in a Minor Key, op. 6-13-2016
Bi Janus
A shove to just this side
Of sadness, of a question
How are you doing
Subtext—are you done for
Fighting the desire
So close to cross over
Into pity and the dying
Giving in to tears
That might never cease
No—rather the walk on day drear
With all its pain along the river
The clarity of perfect mixture—
The lightness of the inevitable
And bitterness of the world without end
The perfection of a shuddering breath
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I commend to you Eric Hoffer's book, The True Believer, first published in 1951. His analysis of the roots of fanaticism is instructive, even in the age of social media.
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Rereading this one gave me great pleasure. I admire especially the pace, measured and leisurely without losing its impetus. This is an art I desire and have never been able to master. The reworking of the latter part of the story is an inspired improvement, and the desire to make the relationship between Robbie's son and Jake sharper is realized . Thanks to vwl for continuing to develop his work. Il miglio fabbro.
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I am deeply touched by the selection, and I continue to appreciate the work of all the authors on the site, many of whom, as I have said before, I think more skillful than I.
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Christopher Bram, whose novel, The Father of Frankenstein, became the movie, Gods and Monsters, has written an account of the great post-WWII American gay authors (some born elsewhere). The story of their struggles, their relationships with one another, their feuds, and their foibles is told by a writer who knew a few of them and knew of them all. The prose is lively and delightful. The "Outlaws" include Vidal, Capote, Baldwin, Isherwood, Wilson, Kramer, Maupin, White, Kushner, and others. If you enjoy literary history from an insider's perspective, try this one.
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While I'm happy to hear from readers who value my work, at heart I'm uneasy about most of my attempts. If I had to pick something toward which to point someone thinking of reading my work, I would suggest the short story, "Outside In," which has unusual structure but deals with the issues that have most concerned me over my life.
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I think it's a phase. On the other hand, I've had some very pleasurable muddles, some even on the odd bisextus.
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If you haven't heard Bill Withers's haunting song, "I can't write left handed," sung at his Carnegie Hall concert in 1972, you should find the recording and listen. For me, it was the most jagged antiwar song of the era.
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During the Vietnam War era, there were draft classifications that included sole surviving sons, IV-A (also for those who had completed service) or IV-G (exempt from peacetime service due to death of sibling while in military service). Many local draft boards only issued the IV-A classification upon request by parents, and the IV -G classification was confused by the status of US action in Vietnam (no war declaration). I knew some families who lost more than one son. I am happy that all R's friends returned, I hope psychologically stable.
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More than a few of us started posting at Nifty. I started there thinking that I could write a better porn story than those I read there. I couldn't and gave the story up because I became bored. The response to that story was what you might expect, even the requests that I continue it. Then, I posted a story called Rebound, and the response was remarkable. Most comments thanked me for a real story that wasn't soaked with descriptions of sex acts. So, I wouldn't consign all readers at Nifty to unrelenting concupiscence. I posted what amounted to first drafts at Nifty. The AD author who ended up editing my work here read the story and with others at AD suggested I post here.
My stories do have descriptions of sex, and I once had a brief colloquy with Des Downunder about why I included those descriptions in my work. As I remember, I told him that sex was one way in which humans relate to one another and I saw no reason to exclude that way or any other so long as the descriptions were revelatory about the nature of the characters. This posture seems near to yours, and since the Dude is excellent at screening out stroke stories while allowing thoughtful descriptions of most forms of human interaction, I think you should trust your judgment.
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Once, when Baso was walking with his disciple Hyakujo, wild ducks were flying over them. Baso, the great teacher, said, “What are they?” Hyakujo said, “They are wild ducks.” Baso said, “Where are they going?” Hyakujo said, “They are flying away.”
Baso gave Hyakujo’s nose a great tweak. Hyakujo cried out with pain. “Did they indeed fly off?”
Hyakujo’s Duck
The duck knows one cannot prepare.
It is the convenient object of a moment.
I summon that duck from beyond
a horizon of twelve hundred years—
Baso has shared it with me,
I think as a diversion to trip me.Where has it gone?
The duck, the mind, the place
where I try to stand still?
For if I fail to follow the duck
as it flies I cannot in a moment
answer the first question—
What is it?They will ask this question
about me soon—where did he go?
I will throw Baso’s obstacle at them.
Sadly, or not, no trick will
startle them to attention,
so they may believe I have gone
and they will smack their crowns
on horizons of their making
as their hearts seek me.
Did I indeed fly off? -
A remarkable day that I didn't think I would live to see and another step in a long process. At the risk of raining on the parade, gay marriage wasn't made lawful nationwide; same-sex marriage was. Many people who identify as bisexual, not gay, are in same sex relationships, and their right to marry was affirmed as well as that of their gay brothers and sisters.
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To be thankful in such circumstances--
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/06/06/world/asia/north-korea-defector-jang-yeong-jin-gay.html
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Left-handed Writing
Bi Janus
With thanks to Bill Withers
Not calling to me
and not insistent.
A story overheard
walking by,
a susurration
on a rainy evening.
I could tell by the voice
he wishes me to sit.
No scold; no lesson,
just a story, the kind
with an ending
you dare not miss.
Once I went awarring,
and he sings to me
as if he might have done.
He sings the surprise
between young men
across the losing-ground.
The lyric reaches
around my shoulder,
just a way of saying
let’s sit a while, survivors,
and look ahead together,
seeing not clearly.
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Paving Stone to Mirror
Bi Janus
In the room decades ago
we saw little clearly.
For you it was scratching an itch,
a relief, and as for me
a waypoint on the road
to holding a naked girl.
May we live so long.
Transgression is its own reward
and sharing release seemed to you
worthy risk until the itch resolved.
Our dawning occupation was risk
and we were stupid about chance.
I might draw a story of this
to make you shudder.
But how could I
without making you wonder?
May we never hurt one another.
Even before cleaning ourselves,
you wanted to forget the moment.
I did not and reached
to the curve of your back.
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Malcolm Boyd died on 2/27--
His writing in the 60s and 70s persistently irritated me, but he prayed with his feet in Alabama and was courageous in coming out when he did. His life and death merit some notice.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/03/02/malcolm-boyd-obituary_n_6787630.html
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The Delirium of Negation by Bi Janus
in Readers Rule!
Posted
I think that Doug is entirely correct about this. Antivirals are useless as terror weapons. Now we just need to find a cure for Des's stereonucleosis.