mark.my.words.

I guess this means we gotta get serious guys.

Well, in as much as that we’ve now got some four writers signed on–and blogrolled–since I started so we’re definitely getting there. Just keep checking back everyonce in awhile–I know I’ll start columning here eventually regardless so that should be at least a meager reward for some of your patience. Just remember: I’m a goddamned college student, and I gotta make sure I graduate too if I can…. So sometimes this is gonnna take the backseat in my life, but evenso my dedication and sheer drive should bring me back whenever things settle some–even sooner, as this post demonstrates.

Anyway, take care all and keep on chugging,
~Placide

Contributors, ie most of you, can edit your posts but cannot publish any yourselves. This is interesting; I’ll have to put this to some consideration and figure out how necessary/useful that could be.

Oh yeah, sexgasm.

I’m serious though folks; just as soon as I post up that journalism final I’ll be banging around this site like I were having rough, kinky sex.

Two sexual references; I’d obviously be better off in bed right now–but! I have homeworks to finish and email to my TA! w00t.

So what am I doing here, writing nonsense? Love! That is, You!

~Placide

In fact I’ve been toying with ideas for/regarding/whatever a pretty serious gonzoid project…the only thing really standing in my way is my current standing scholastically.

[near] failing.

Yes, that’s right: I’m already failing my major and I haven’t even really begun it yet. Good sign, eh?

So as soon as I have that under some semblance of control I’ll be able to put more work in here. Actually I still have a draft that needs loving; a collection of thoughts regarding the two characters I hope to bring to life between these webpages–Placide, whom you may already know, and Carl (Eswio), whom few at best know.

So that is coming. Fear it. Roar.

Also as soon as I can I’m gonna pull together a sort of mission statement for the mag; a manifesto on what the fuck we’re about.

Also, some poetry by Mr. Levine; more as well to come. Stay tuned.

This does not stand, however.

I need to set some kind of standard; in the least avoid allowing this turn into another random, faceless blog. (Yes, I see the irony of that in light of using a blogging site to host this mag.) I already have one of those.

And speaking of which, I’ve decided it’d be best for me to just move “Insomnia” over to that blog, at least until I have an adequate and satisfactory version to put here.

From that [10/25, 11:31pm] post, though, there were some semi-pertinent notes worth preserving:

“So finally managed to remember to talk to Mani about Vermy; things. Expect it sometime, I suppose, just no time soon if you’re prudent.

“Read that essay; damn funny; needs work. Mostly structural. It’s basic thesis though is one of few things today to have the honor of making me smile: You can’t know everything–so pretend to instead. Ah, know-it-all-ism. What class in that.

“I’m all but tagging these things randomly nowadays. All these recent posts, with the exception of last night’s, should really just be “Staff Notes” being as they are notes from the staff. But I feel that to be inadequate, yeh? Gotta have punch, verve–ooo, haven’t heard that word in far too long–mojo-magic.”

A friend found “Insomnia” a bit disturbing; said it came off as rather masochistic in terms of imagery and message. I’ll admit that just before he mentioned his impressions i was coincidentally perusing that same entry, noting various little things I didn’t like so much, and overall felt it dissatisfied me rather greatly–I kinda got the some of the same impression he did, too. So I’ll probably rework it if I feel so inclined all of a sudden or I might just leave this as a disclaimer. Who knows….

Regarding that, I did like the old theme and all I just thought I’d look at some of the others and came upon this (ie: the current) one. It has to it a sort of old-timey professionalism, you’d almost think this might be a legit whatever it is if I weren’t behind it all. Nevertheless, it’s nice looking–I am especially turned on by the little swoosh-dingers at the end of each post. That’s hot. Yeh?

So as yet I have not gotten a chance to read throught either that poem nor that essay, but I’m looking forward to, in the least, possible material for the site/mag. Additionally my friend Xavier has offereed to do snide/cynical/sarcastic/um?/funny movie reviews; we’ll see, haha (see, he keeps reminding me of his offer and I keep saying “Sure” or “Perhaps” or “We’ll see” and he always, and vocally, takes that as a “No”). Also< I still haven’t made attempts to persuade Mani to allow my publishing of his “Vermillion,” a treatment of that movie-script he’s writing and I still have yet to read. Joy. >:)

But I couldn’t find any. Plus it’s not like I have all that much money to be throwing around. Plus mommy’s coming up tomorrow with a bunch of my things and maybe even my headphones from back home. Maybe, if i’m lucky.

I did get a bunch of cheap little “scratch pads.” 1.59 for a 4-pack. Also a bunch of those cheap u-Bic-quitous pens–1.79. I hope to keep these pens and pads strewn about my room, coats, bags, life, so that in the moment of accidental, incidental, inspiration I can throw it down upon the cheap paper with the cheap pens and forget about it if I must.

Such happened on my subway ride back. It was just that cold and nasty; indeed I might have had a cock up my ass tonight if it weren’t. Damn you Jack Frost. Damn you and your kin.

• Stench of raw alcohol; sleeping homeless; 2 on my car
• 4AM ON A NY SUBWAY
• 1 stop to mine; 1 long stop away; like blocks, [stops are] indeterminate units
• now that one ain’t so bad; the one that just rolled over
• newly homeless, I bet
• …and me.
• [PAGE]
• too cold out there for those without gloves
• I wonder what it’s like for these drunken subway homeless then
• I wonder if Mr. Will Smith is cold, out there as he seems to be in W-Square
• Filming
• Or maybe just the techies–the hired geeks
• Dylan looks a bit like Depp in that poster
• This map’s not really accurate
• [PAGE]
• tho it says I can take the {NRQW} to Prince and walk some 8 blocks–tops, here; definitely indefinite, blocks; tops or sides
• Good to know; tho not too worth it. at all. Really.
• Some. Maybe. Cold.
• winded papers; shreds aflight but-
• [PAGE] -anchored
• Is”ugly betty” really all that ugly?
• Vendor pushing pre-dawn carts
• “This street is 6th so the next should be 7th and we’ll be all…good.” says petite lady leading stout man from 6th Ave.–>Sullivan
• little do they know; I remain quiet, smirking slightly at New York City
• [PAGE]
• “You better respect me” yells another to her confused man, then something about her hair–unintellible as her logic
• Smells like used coffee grounds; Earthy; like a grave
• gas station lites–24-7 safety–but just across the st
• but do they sell gloves?
• or coats or heaters?
• pile of boxes; “Foxy” says one in alluring letters

And, Door.

Jesu Christe

In other news I’ve gotten some sweet submissions; one is a friend’s hate poem and the other’s another friend’s essay randomly about how one must prejudge everything or some such thing. Both sound pretty steamy to me.

Also with this post I randomly have decided to unveil all the ‘departments’ or tags currently existant. Totally hot, yeh? As you can see I’ve already preempted that essay with an essay tag as well as some other stuff. More tags to come as needed.

I should really get down to it and talk Mani into letting me run that short story of his he’s making into a movie. Good press, I’d think.

Hmm…more to come, more to come.