Fuck it. If Scare Appallin’ can burn books and get away with it, I sure as hell can. But my burning book leaves no smoke. It just smokes the dinosaur brains of those who would try and silence anyone’s power and vision.
In fact, I aspire to write a hardbound, genre-bending tale that the Puck-Dropping Pageant Also Ran would push her secessionist weirdo of a husband into a snowdrift and trip over her snowmobile to burn. In other words, I want to burn a book from the inside out, using only words and ideas to do it.
And I don’t want anyone to be able to stand back and watch the words vanish into the Northern Lights, smug in the knowledge that they’ve rid another dissenting voice from the eyes, ears and minds of the world. I don’t want anyone to be able to say they discouraged anyone from writing the most explosive, challenging, and shocking piece of literature ever written. For those who would try, I want to shake the shit out of their rudimentary and self-righteous ganglion clusters. I want them to cry, or better yet, worse; hailing from Jersey as I do, leaving no witnesses gets me off. I want to write the censoring czars to death.
I’ve been off-handedly referring to my style as Rock and Roll Literature. What makes it different from, say, a hard R-rated graphic novel or comic serial in Heavy Metal or Epic magazine? Besides not having any illustrations, I dunno. Probably not much if you take some of the most irreverent and penetrating prose from any decade and explored it in the context of its time. I’m certainly not trying to place my writing in the same category as the important works of some of the world’s greatest literary minds, but let’s just say I want to write a pop/rock/punk word record that punches a hole in your rigaramole.
But I don’t want to just come at you extreme. I want it to have humor, depth, individual style, and clear purpose. Cause that’s where the impact is so strong that the hole out the back of your head is ten times the size as the one that enters your face. I say with my Jack-O-Lantern tongue sticking out that I don’t want to hurt you unless you try and piss on my candle to keep me quiet and shut my eyes. If you’re the kind that would try, then I will effort to shock you with my free-thinking soul, believe it.
Great rock records change the way we see things. First and foremost, I want my books to be lots of fun. But I’d also like to change the way you think about yourself and the world – even if it’s only in the smallest of ways. I want to blow your attention deficient eyedrums out with a fresh hell that will wake you and strip you of what you think you know, and titillate you in ways that may also terrify you. But most of all, I want to find new avenues to explore and get those who dare to be on the same page excited to read more.
Rock and Roll Literature. Burning down the shelves.
scottStories 
Taking down my blog. Got a REALLY inappropriate comment after yours. If I can’t post pictures of my kids without getting some pervert off, then, I just can’t post right now. Damn. My friends warned me this could happen and I refused to believe.
I’m feeling a weird sense of loss for the blog. I had fun with it. But, ick. I guess we all get censored sometimes. Even if we’re forced to do it to ourselves, to protect people we care about.
later!
Crap, hope I didn’t help bring it on by mentioning your family. That really sucks, Jeanne.
I could tell you were really getting into it and expanding on your ideas. In fact, I’d recently advised my sister who is going through a painful divorce to perhaps write about her experiences, her children, and all of her animal adventures (she’s a vet RN with a menagerie of her own). Maybe I should rethink that, too.
On the other hand, maybe we shouldn’t let ourselves be scared off. Don’t retreat, delete?
You didn’t do anything. I am sure it’s just all the pictures I post of my kids because it was an offer to do something to my daughter. Enough said, right?
I’m going to spend some time today thinking about this. A huge part of what I loved about the blog was the living scrapbook aspect. I found myself taking more pictures and seeing something in nothing. It reminded me of my journalism days.
I wouldn’t discourage your sister. Just maybe, let her know that images of kids- probably of any age- are a delight for some people with nothing better to do than stroll through strangers blogs.
Thanks for the encouragement. We’ll see.
It’s really best, in my experience, to leave off any mention of one’s children online. It’s unlikely that anyone would do anything (unless, of course, you’re posting the name of their school and your address, but I’d advise against that, as well!). Nevertheless, it can be disconcerting.
I would recommend your sister not mention her kids at all, Scott. Even the divorce is best left to a private blog if she really wants to vent. Airing your laundry online is a recipe for trouble somewhere down the line. Once it’s out there, it’s out there and there’s no getting it back.
Didn’t post our address and don’t think anyone’s gonna go to the trouble to track us down. But, when my friend warned me about this she said, “I love your blog but I do not understand why someone from Paris is reading it every few days? What on earth could they be getting from it? Unless they are (something I won’t write) to you, or your kids pictures.”
The idea is enough.
I HATE when people who warn you are right. 🙂
I can just imagine how creepy that must feel. I guess there’s no choice but to keep certain details as guarded as possible. Oh what fun, huh?
Bastards.
Okay- about your post. A little annoyed, are we? I don’t blame you. But, hey, I think I like the book your burning.
I like how open you are. I admire it. Really. The blog was supposed to be an excersise in opening up more- for me.
Now, have scrubbed my bathroom and kitchen floors and cabinets until you could eat off them. Not that we’d want to. And don’t have to pick up kids from practices for a couple of hours so, I’m having a glass of beaujolais- not caring that it’s not 5:00 yet- and going to think about a new blog, just for me. Not for my family. Am pretty sure I’m too old to be pervert bait.
I’ll let ya know how it goes.
j
Well, husband has just come home insisting that I restore the blog and not at concerned. This- is why I love men.
I guess I wasted your time today. But, you didn’t waste mine.
j
Didn’t waste my time at all. And good for your husband. You’re way too into what you’re doing to let one or two idiots shut you down.
As for my blog, yeah, I really have no patience for small-minded ideologues. Silence me and highlight the problem, I say.
But the overall tone of the entry was also intended to describe the idea behind RnRL. I was having fun. Above all, that’s what it’s about.