Shabby Doll House: Doll Revolution

                The dolls have taken the wise advice of William S. Burroughs and smashed their machines. Out with poetry they are in with videos. Shabby Doll House has been big into the whole written word scene for too long. Eventually they were going to need to do something completely different. Fortunately they have received divine inspiration from none other than that amazing performer Beyoncé. Readers of the Shabby Doll House work ought to be pleased with the amount of time and effort that went into the seventh addition to the wonderful Shabby Doll House collection. 

                John Mortara begins with an airport, home of the airplanes. His heart has been doing more traveling than his body. This is worrisome. A body needs a heart in order to properly function. Currently only a select few individuals have been recorded as lacking a heart. Most of those are fictional characters. Poems are ways to try and create new hearts using the power of words. Songs in the head can be shared. Individuals in relationships enjoy having ‘their songs’ to share with each other as a wink in the form of melody and rhythm. Oddly John Mortara remembers being a teenager. Life as a teenager is tough indeed via lack of money, increase in hormones and general apathy. Fortunately there is someone looking after John Mortara telling him the water would be ready when they would need it. Apparently John Mortara is bad at cooking. Remembering happens with remarkable speed when the memory is important. 

                Meggie Green knows the art of losing isn’t hard to master. Taking a page from Vampire Weekend’s music video where they set a SAAB aflame, she opts for a large paper placard instead. Writing is a harder game than indie rock. People lose all the time in writing, usually themselves. Going farther into their minds is an easy trip that requires little in the way of gas. Besides losing faster Meggie Green loses cities, rivers, continents, even letters that spell out the words of things she’s lost are lost. Her balloons state what she misses. The balloons fly away like good balloons happy to join their maker in the Heavens. 

                Bob Schofield talks about his hoodie. Young people enjoy wearing hoodies because they aren’t ready to wear jackets again. Puffy jackets are for children. With age comes vanity and people need to look their best. However as Bob Schofield explains that does not always mean smelling the best, via the lack of washing attention his hoodie has been shown. The camera looks deep into Bob Schofield’s eyes. He explains his lonely life, trying to justify being lonely. Artists live lonely lives because it is hard to explain art and what purpose it serves. Sometimes the best art is the kind of stuff that makes the artist feel. 

                Natalie Chin exposes the secret life of the Alt Lit jet set. The film takes place in Europe. Infrastructure gives it away. Unlike in the United States where infrastructure is allowed to collapse Europe tends to take pretty good care of itself. Various up and coming Alt Lit writers are featured quite prominently. Crispin Best is there eating something looking very Crispin Best like. Obviously Natalie Chin makes an appearance as it is her video. Lucy K Shaw is there in a shocking appearance as is New Zealand’s greatest export Stacey Teague. 

                Adam J Kurtz rules. Perhaps one of the best representations of the writing lifestyle he surrounds himself with glowing screens. They glow around him in his dark isolated environment. Minimalism means Apple products apparently. 

                Michael Inscoe advertises for OK Cupid. From here things get busy. Images upon images are thrown on top of each other. The playfulness extends to the death of a vase. A mean guitar weaves its way through all of the images a string of thought holding everything together. Water planes people swimming pools dogs the video has it all. 

                Lucy K Shaw and Sarah Jean Alexander finish in the London tube. People stand clear of the closing doors. People are smart. Sarah Jean Alexander talks about staring at spaces. Good fun, staring at spaces, everybody does it. Computer screens help teach individuals important staring skills. Lucy K Shaw has her section about being in the fine old US of A. Hopefully Lucy K Shaw has forgiven America for its act of rebellion against the crown. Honestly the UK and the USA are pretty tight now, they chill hard together. A list comes together. A list ends before number ten. 

                Yes Shabby Doll House has taken things to the next level, away from writing into the Hipster Version of YouTube, Vimeo. People need to take a page from the book of Shabby Doll House so long as it isn’t a page essential to the plot. For the Shabby Doll House story is still being written.

Publishing Genius: A Documentary by Spencer Madsen

                Adam Robinson wakes up in a seriously Baltimore-ass apartment. Yep right next to him is a brick wall because those things are huge in Baltimore. Other cities cover up brick walls with important things nice smooth surfaces. Baltimore residents pay no mind to that window dressing. Right in the video Adam Robinson’s windows are devoid of dressings. They are naked windows exposing Adam Robinson to the cruel reality that is Baltimore outdoors at practically any time of day. Such an quiet scene is shown in sharp contrast to the night before.

                Baltimore writers are hanging out the night before doing what all writers do best: drink. Some luminaries are in the metaphorical house. Among them are Adam Robinson’s friends who applaud him for no particular reason. It must be nice to have friends randomly applaud for no reason whatever. People toast him. Sarah Jean Alexander is there too doing Sarah Jean Alexander type shit. Sarah Jean Alexander is consuming liquids, saying words, and breathing air, typical Sarah Jean Alexander. Next to Sarah Jean Alexander is a famous publisher from Brooklyn, New York. The young man is entitled Spencer Madsen and he’s about to get down to the hot Baltimore beat. 

                Of course the hot Baltimore beat is New Order’s ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’ one of their hits. Everybody dances. They dance poorly hence the dimly lit room. Nobody really wants to see how badly they dance. Hence alcohol releases that whole ‘shame’ factor. For those who do not drink but enjoy the company of others, they can dance in the dark knowing nobody will see them. Free of judgment the individuals dance with abandon. 

                This being a Vimeo video and not some YouTube stuff, it gets artsy. Adam Robinson is shown brushing his teeth because art. He puts together a business casual outfit in no time flat. Here one can see the true tortured spirit of Adam Robinson. Yep Adam Robinson is a writer hence the ‘writer beard’ and ‘hip glasses’. Few can pull off those two elements together. Few are Adam Robinson. In fact to date there are only two Adam Robinsons, the publisher Adam Robinson and the pirate Adam Robinson who died in a fire in 1873. 

                Unfortunately Adam Robinson loses at the most dangerous game. This is tragic. Apparently it is a good idea to face off against Adam Robinson in that most noble sport, Ping Pong or Table Tennis or whatever it is called. He accepts his loss without dignity falling into that whole downward spiral that Nine Inch Nails warned everybody about. By the end with that voicemail it is all mostly over.

v erotic by Sarah Jean Alexander

                Sarah Jean Alexander is a video trickster. In this tantalizingly short video she teases the viewer. What is the purpose of this video even? Does it reflect Sarah’s inner-most thoughts exposed to the outside world for the very first time? Aspects of this video require an ‘in-depth’ analysis befitting of such a seminal piece of work. Lasting only for seven seconds it lingers in the mind for much longer. Questions are left there in the air waiting for a great mind to properly answer them. Unfortunately Sarah offers no specific answers but only clues. 

                The video is full of shadows. This is a metaphor for the shadows where Sarah lives. Life on the internet requires these shadows. It is in the shadows that poetry is written, that tweets are composed, and Tumblrs re-blogged. Ah yes Sarah knows it well that mischievous scamp frolicking about seemingly with abandon. Many have referred to Sarah Jean Alexander as the scamp of Alt Lit. With this video she confirms that yes, such a title is warranted. Few get that fortunate title despite the scamp-like nature of many Alt Lit writers. Sarah Jean Alexander works hard for the scamp money, works hard for it, honey. 

                Behind her appears to be some element of natural light. Obviously this is worrisome. Internet dwellers shy away from natural light. Hopefully upon the completion of this video Sarah Jean Alexander drew the curtains and remained in the darkness diligently checking Facebook for updates on her favorite sloth-based bloggers.  At least that would be the most rational thing that Sarah Jean Alexander could do on a Sunday afternoon. The time stamp of this video is not noticeable however. Hence Sarah could have recorded this anytime in the past few days, weeks, months or even years. 

                Her final clue is of a band playing in the background. Like her the band is woozy. It barely understands where it is going. There are all these cool little electronic signals searching for a home. Maybe a beat comes in later. It is hard to say. No bass drops during the duration of the video. Perhaps Sarah tried to keep it super, indeed duper, and positive. For this is a bit of a raw rough video. The music is a good choice then. Additionally one can see Sarah with strategically placed blankets. Is her video a reflection on waking up, how one is born again through the womb of the bed? Yes this seems to make the most sense. Yet even this is unknowable. For Sarah Jean Alexander is an enigma wrapped in blankets.

Share Your Fears With Mine by Sarah Jean Alexander 


                Dead fish liter the sidewalk. Baltimore is full of dead fish. The harbor brings in the dead fish every day. Sarah collects the dead fish using dog waste bags. Eventually the dead fish decide to leave her stinky apartment. Obviously the dead fish are the ones who created the smell, but the dead fish do not realize it. Fish generally lack self-awareness, and dead fish lack life overall. Sarah looks at the pretty monuments dedicated to the beautiful dead fish before taking a walk. 

                Eating dead birds typically is not recommended. In spite of Sarah’s experience, normally dead birds do not taste very pretty. Cats love the taste of dead birds and bring them to their families. Humans really don’t understand their pets desire to lord over dead creatures. It is a control thing. With animals feeling the pain of ownership, the way they counteract this feeling is to basically rule over the dead. Toys are obviously dead. But the recently dead, they were once alive and maybe through attention can be brought into the living world once more. It is a hope, a hopeless hope, but animals need to believe in something and that something cannot be humans. 

                Shrubs are depressed trees. They try to grow so tall. Yet they fail. Nature doesn’t nurture shrubs enough. Shrimps of the plant world, they grow deep into the ground, hiding their sexy roots. Maybe one day a tree and shrub shall start a family. However such an event seems less likely than sunflower stop signs. Though technically cities are concrete jungles, they only grow the inanimate, not the animate. 

                Walls of stone can be created without doing a thing. Stones want to build walls together. People enjoy putting the stones together. Unfortunately people don’t always put the right stones together. Every field contains these really smart sensitive stones. After being allowed to put them together, the freedom builds a stronger wall. Humans impose on nature, but nature generally knows the best way to bring everything together. Nature has been around before people and will continue to be around long after humanity has vanished. Sarah understands nature. 

                Forgotten people move away. Life is littered with these forgotten people. Sometimes they lack memorability. To be really memorable one must do something grand. Leaving people is hard. People leaving, that’s easy. The world has so much space. Why not occupy other parts of it, far away from anywhere in particular. Sarah figures that when people aren’t around her they no longer exist. 

                It ends with a romance that does not reek of fish. They collect dead animals once more and the stones guide the way.

Share Your Fears With Mine by Sarah Jean Alexander

                Dead fish liter the sidewalk. Baltimore is full of dead fish. The harbor brings in the dead fish every day. Sarah collects the dead fish using dog waste bags. Eventually the dead fish decide to leave her stinky apartment. Obviously the dead fish are the ones who created the smell, but the dead fish do not realize it. Fish generally lack self-awareness, and dead fish lack life overall. Sarah looks at the pretty monuments dedicated to the beautiful dead fish before taking a walk. 

                Eating dead birds typically is not recommended. In spite of Sarah’s experience, normally dead birds do not taste very pretty. Cats love the taste of dead birds and bring them to their families. Humans really don’t understand their pets desire to lord over dead creatures. It is a control thing. With animals feeling the pain of ownership, the way they counteract this feeling is to basically rule over the dead. Toys are obviously dead. But the recently dead, they were once alive and maybe through attention can be brought into the living world once more. It is a hope, a hopeless hope, but animals need to believe in something and that something cannot be humans. 

                Shrubs are depressed trees. They try to grow so tall. Yet they fail. Nature doesn’t nurture shrubs enough. Shrimps of the plant world, they grow deep into the ground, hiding their sexy roots. Maybe one day a tree and shrub shall start a family. However such an event seems less likely than sunflower stop signs. Though technically cities are concrete jungles, they only grow the inanimate, not the animate. 

                Walls of stone can be created without doing a thing. Stones want to build walls together. People enjoy putting the stones together. Unfortunately people don’t always put the right stones together. Every field contains these really smart sensitive stones. After being allowed to put them together, the freedom builds a stronger wall. Humans impose on nature, but nature generally knows the best way to bring everything together. Nature has been around before people and will continue to be around long after humanity has vanished. Sarah understands nature. 

                Forgotten people move away. Life is littered with these forgotten people. Sometimes they lack memorability. To be really memorable one must do something grand. Leaving people is hard. People leaving, that’s easy. The world has so much space. Why not occupy other parts of it, far away from anywhere in particular. Sarah figures that when people aren’t around her they no longer exist. 

                It ends with a romance that does not reek of fish. They collect dead animals once more and the stones guide the way.

sarahjeanalex

sarahjeanalex:

i changed clothes so it wouldnt look like i drank all 4 beers in a row but tbqh i did

                Sarah Jean Alexander gives new meaning to ‘Talent is more erotic when it’s wasted’ by consecutively drinking four beers. Each wardrobe change is deliberate. The attitude is to be completely in control of drinking. By consuming so much alcohol in a short period of time Sarah proves she is a poet worthy of Baltimore. Of course great deals of questions are raised by this provocative performance art. While many of those questions are somewhat unknowable it is important to explore the more poignant ones. 

                National Bohemian raises more questions than it answers. That’s the beer of choice for Sarah’s video. Whether or not Natty Bo (as it will be referred to henceforth) paid Sarah for product placement is irrelevant. Natty Bo is essentially Baltimore’s PBR. Most of Natty Bo consists of water. Here’s the question: If Sarah drank only four Natty Boes (Bose?) how could she get drunk? This is a worthwhile question. Her twitter states she became intoxicated. Four Natty Boes is not enough for proper intoxication. One Beach Sloth, local Baltimore resident, did in fact once get drunk off of Natty Bo. However it took more than one Natty Bo, more than two, more than three, and certainly more than four. 

                Beach Sloth was straight-up chilling at a prestigious place that kept on giving him free alcohol. Since Beach Sloth typically lives in dire-ass poverty imbibing alcohol helped him forget his horribly bleak environment. Fortunately nobody stopped giving Beach Sloth alcohol. Henceforth there is a study, done by Beach Sloth, which states that at least 8 Natty Boes need to be consumed before intoxication happens. Natty Boes are 97 percent water. However Sarah may have a perfectly logical explanation for this discrepancy: Sarah might not have any money for food, thus she receives all nutrition from beer. Receiving the day’s essential vitamins and minerals from beer is no new thing. Recording it however, that’s brand ‘spanking’ new. 

                Soundtrack work in the video is simply stunning. Like Sarah’s work which toys with the depressing and funny, the video shows her sitting down in various places waiting to finish the can. On a chair with her super-villain cat, hanging out on her bed, drinking beer out of a straw, next to a bookshelf to show off the many books she’s read, and one of her on a stool. Indeed Sarah Jean Alexander is well versed in the written-ass word. Everybody basically knows her great wealth of knowledge. Indeed it is Sarah’s great wealth of knowledge that keeps her bills paid. 

                By the end of the video Sarah is ready to crush the cans that previously contained alcohol. Sarah defeated them. The end is cathartic. At the very end any viewer not on the verge of tears has not truly lived. Sarah Jean Alexander is the slayer of beers.

5 haiku for people I loved before the end of the world by Sarah Jean Alexander


               The end of the world seems alt. According to some bros on the history channel all the signs of the end times are here: stock footage of natural disasters, people walking in cities unaware of the calamity about to befall them, and impassioned interviews from adjuncts at mediocre universities. Yes these are obviously the end of days. What can be done for them? Should the end times be feared? Obviously somebody could prepare stock up on Spam and Ramen, hunker down in a bunker and hope for the best. Clearly this is stupid. A better way of preparing for the apocalypse exists. First getting a sweet mix ready for the end times is a must. William Basinski’s famous ‘Disintegration Loops’ would be a good choice as the whole thing has been re-issued and is five hours. While the world burns and the music dissolves join a giant ‘people pile’ to get that ‘fuck’ on. 

                Sarah Jean Alexander takes the latter approach. Five haikus are dedicated to those she loved. It is pretty remarkable to love even one person let alone five. Though Sarah Jean Alexander is known for her ‘sad house girl’ persona perhaps her actual talent is having a heart big enough to count as a one to two bedroom adobe down Baltimore way. Plenty remember her chapbooks; her beautiful contribution to literature entitled ‘I’m a Huge Dick’ which went over the myriad ways that she is, in fact, despite her gender, a huge dick. Plenty more remember her laugh, her smile, the way she can imbibe alcohol. Poets drink a lot but few poets get the chance to work at a bar. Clearly Sarah is living the dream.

                Each one of these little haikus remembers the people she loved before. This is important. Since the end of the world is happening and all, it is probably a good time to hook up with people. Here Sarah witnesses one of them dissolve. Perhaps Sarah is referring to her relationship. More likely Sarah is referring to the sulfuric acid that will rain down on mankind killing everyone. Another boyfriend says Sarah was the one that killed the relationship. The only thing that killed their relationship was the fight between darkness and light at the end times. One person Sarah hopes is happy. That’s unlikely as the world is ending. She wishes Chicago was not twelve hours away. Since it is the end of time she could technically arrive in Chicago immediately as there is no longer any concept of time as described by the primitivist anarchist John Zerzan. By the last haiku Sarah will remain 18 for the world will travel backwards in time thanks to the tremendous amount of explosions.

                This is a beautiful collection of haikus reminding the reader they have a limited time on Earth to remember the good times. Let the end of the world commence!

5 haiku for people I loved before the end of the world by Sarah Jean Alexander

               The end of the world seems alt. According to some bros on the history channel all the signs of the end times are here: stock footage of natural disasters, people walking in cities unaware of the calamity about to befall them, and impassioned interviews from adjuncts at mediocre universities. Yes these are obviously the end of days. What can be done for them? Should the end times be feared? Obviously somebody could prepare stock up on Spam and Ramen, hunker down in a bunker and hope for the best. Clearly this is stupid. A better way of preparing for the apocalypse exists. First getting a sweet mix ready for the end times is a must. William Basinski’s famous ‘Disintegration Loops’ would be a good choice as the whole thing has been re-issued and is five hours. While the world burns and the music dissolves join a giant ‘people pile’ to get that ‘fuck’ on. 

                Sarah Jean Alexander takes the latter approach. Five haikus are dedicated to those she loved. It is pretty remarkable to love even one person let alone five. Though Sarah Jean Alexander is known for her ‘sad house girl’ persona perhaps her actual talent is having a heart big enough to count as a one to two bedroom adobe down Baltimore way. Plenty remember her chapbooks; her beautiful contribution to literature entitled ‘I’m a Huge Dick’ which went over the myriad ways that she is, in fact, despite her gender, a huge dick. Plenty more remember her laugh, her smile, the way she can imbibe alcohol. Poets drink a lot but few poets get the chance to work at a bar. Clearly Sarah is living the dream.

                Each one of these little haikus remembers the people she loved before. This is important. Since the end of the world is happening and all, it is probably a good time to hook up with people. Here Sarah witnesses one of them dissolve. Perhaps Sarah is referring to her relationship. More likely Sarah is referring to the sulfuric acid that will rain down on mankind killing everyone. Another boyfriend says Sarah was the one that killed the relationship. The only thing that killed their relationship was the fight between darkness and light at the end times. One person Sarah hopes is happy. That’s unlikely as the world is ending. She wishes Chicago was not twelve hours away. Since it is the end of time she could technically arrive in Chicago immediately as there is no longer any concept of time as described by the primitivist anarchist John Zerzan. By the last haiku Sarah will remain 18 for the world will travel backwards in time thanks to the tremendous amount of explosions.

                This is a beautiful collection of haikus reminding the reader they have a limited time on Earth to remember the good times. Let the end of the world commence!


Sarah Jessica Theo Bradley by Theo Thimo and Sarah Jean Alexander

               Hot pink makes one think. This is the hottest color to ever grace any chapbook. A few times the chapbook appears to have fail screens. See the chapbook is a video game. Since they are at rest stops much of the time, drinking red bulls and hanging out in Delaware, it isn’t the most exciting video game. The video game has a name: it is called life. People are always trying to win at life. When somebody’s at a Delaware rest stop it is impossible to feel like a winner. Delaware doesn’t breed winners. Delaware is the halfway point between DC and New York, Baltimore and New York. Without better things surrounding it Delaware would wither away into tax-free nothingness. 
                The chapbook begins with Theo chilling in New York. Is this how Theo rolls, with himself just hanging out in America’s best city? Sure why not. Theo has ‘earned it’. He signs his name below indicating he understands the terms of the agreement. From there Sarah goes on to talk about the need for jobs. Batteries aren’t included for Sarah. Everybody needs batteries to do work. A battery is motivation to give the best to that job, to let them know “I’m alt lit and I need money to live. I’ll probably write poetry at work during my lunch break and fail to talk to you. You’ve been warned.” 
                Self-perception is the secret sauce of writing poetry. Sarah Jean Alexander writes poems based off of her myriad varied experiences. That’s why Sarah is so real. Occasionally Sarah gets a little too real. She needs to bring that realness back to surreality. With surreality all the troubles of the world wash away into a series of neatly aligned little texts. Theo brings it back to the weird with a shout-out to Steve Martin. Is Steve Martin the most alt lit movie star? No but Steve Martin has free time occasionally when he’s not starring in “The Pink Panther” or being an asshole with a banjo. 
                People do everything to make Sarah Jean Alexander happy. She states as much. Yet this is a lie. Sarah Jean Alexander lives in a ‘Sad Girl House’. If everything made Sarah happy, it would be a happy house, as described in Juan Maclean’s block-rocking hit ‘Happy House’. Theo understands this as he informs Sarah ‘One day’ inviting her to the historic splendor that is Worchester, MA. In fact the chapbook becomes so good Peter Travers blurbs it. For those unaware Peter Travers is the godfather of the bros. Every bro looks up to Peter Travers. Here Peter Travers calls the chapbook ‘sexy’. Of course the chapbook is sexy it is in hot pink. 
                Beers are brought up. These are poets. Poets generally drink. Sarah Jean Alexander even works at a bar. Hence she gets great ‘deals’ on imbibing alcoholic beverages. People should hang out with Sarah. She’s in America’s greatest city according to its luxurious benches. People should also hang out with Theo. Though Theo lacks any sort of ‘alcoholic beverage’ hook up he’s probably lonely. Both of them are lonely but this chapbook brings them together with the reader to create a happy little family.

Sarah Jessica Theo Bradley by Theo Thimo and Sarah Jean Alexander

               Hot pink makes one think. This is the hottest color to ever grace any chapbook. A few times the chapbook appears to have fail screens. See the chapbook is a video game. Since they are at rest stops much of the time, drinking red bulls and hanging out in Delaware, it isn’t the most exciting video game. The video game has a name: it is called life. People are always trying to win at life. When somebody’s at a Delaware rest stop it is impossible to feel like a winner. Delaware doesn’t breed winners. Delaware is the halfway point between DC and New York, Baltimore and New York. Without better things surrounding it Delaware would wither away into tax-free nothingness. 

                The chapbook begins with Theo chilling in New York. Is this how Theo rolls, with himself just hanging out in America’s best city? Sure why not. Theo has ‘earned it’. He signs his name below indicating he understands the terms of the agreement. From there Sarah goes on to talk about the need for jobs. Batteries aren’t included for Sarah. Everybody needs batteries to do work. A battery is motivation to give the best to that job, to let them know “I’m alt lit and I need money to live. I’ll probably write poetry at work during my lunch break and fail to talk to you. You’ve been warned.” 

                Self-perception is the secret sauce of writing poetry. Sarah Jean Alexander writes poems based off of her myriad varied experiences. That’s why Sarah is so real. Occasionally Sarah gets a little too real. She needs to bring that realness back to surreality. With surreality all the troubles of the world wash away into a series of neatly aligned little texts. Theo brings it back to the weird with a shout-out to Steve Martin. Is Steve Martin the most alt lit movie star? No but Steve Martin has free time occasionally when he’s not starring in “The Pink Panther” or being an asshole with a banjo. 

                People do everything to make Sarah Jean Alexander happy. She states as much. Yet this is a lie. Sarah Jean Alexander lives in a ‘Sad Girl House’. If everything made Sarah happy, it would be a happy house, as described in Juan Maclean’s block-rocking hit ‘Happy House’. Theo understands this as he informs Sarah ‘One day’ inviting her to the historic splendor that is Worchester, MA. In fact the chapbook becomes so good Peter Travers blurbs it. For those unaware Peter Travers is the godfather of the bros. Every bro looks up to Peter Travers. Here Peter Travers calls the chapbook ‘sexy’. Of course the chapbook is sexy it is in hot pink. 

                Beers are brought up. These are poets. Poets generally drink. Sarah Jean Alexander even works at a bar. Hence she gets great ‘deals’ on imbibing alcoholic beverages. People should hang out with Sarah. She’s in America’s greatest city according to its luxurious benches. People should also hang out with Theo. Though Theo lacks any sort of ‘alcoholic beverage’ hook up he’s probably lonely. Both of them are lonely but this chapbook brings them together with the reader to create a happy little family.

I’m a Huge Dick by Sarah Jean Alexander


                ‘I’m a Huge Dick’ may be one of the most puzzling pieces to come out of alt lit ever. Some may certainly ask (with some justification): ‘Why?’ The answer of course is ‘Because Sarah Jean Alexander can’. For she is best known for her award-winning chapbook this doesn’t mean she can resist the siren call of being a ‘literary trickster’. As the head of the alt lit publishing house ‘Sad Girl House’ she can indulge in these efforts. Her relationship to Daniel Alexander is also in question, as the two shares the same last name and appears to be remarkably similar in terms of ‘snack love’. Yet little evidence exists of Sarah’s ‘snack pack’ shampoo style. This may be due to her lack of online YouTube presence. 

                Her first picture simply states ‘I’m a Huge Dick’. Does this mean her real identity is that of a man named Richard? There are so many unanswered questions. As she stares at the camera her arms are outstretched in a style reminiscent of a hug. If she was a huge dick why would she hug anybody? Contradictions like this mark her previous work for her ‘Sad Girl House’ and her more recent work as a person in real life. Life itself is extremely contradictory. All Sarah wants to show is such a style is not only a good thing but a necessary thing as well. Sarah wants to show the audience that she is indeed a dick. She fails. Who could hate a face that full of love and glasses? Anybody who could resist the plentiful charms of Sarah has not truly live a remarkable or even mundane life.  
 
                 A hoodie is overhead. Here Sarah appears to be in mid-flight in the fragile eggshell of her mind. Eyes say it all. They are looking upwards towards the heavens. Here the ‘huge’ is put in parentheses, indicating one will discover this out about her eventually, at a yet undetermined point in time. Sarah’s facial expression is as mysterious as Mona Lisa’s, if Mona Lisa lived in Baltimore and served beer. Few understand Baltimore, that weird, city, indifferent to its fate. Could in fact Baltimore be the inspiration to Sarah’s statement of being ‘A huge dick’? Or are her motivations obscured by her life in a ‘Sad Girl House’? 

                For her final picture she looks down, presumably at the hell that exists on Earth. Lately Satan has been making His Almighty presence felt, through various political elections, economic conditions, and severe lack of waffles. At the very end Sarah thanks Theo Thimo for his help through this journey, for Theo remains one of the most unknowable figures in alt lit besides all those anonymous people. Will anybody ever call Sarah a dick again? The answer is yes.

I’m a Huge Dick by Sarah Jean Alexander

                I’m a Huge Dick’ may be one of the most puzzling pieces to come out of alt lit ever. Some may certainly ask (with some justification): ‘Why?’ The answer of course is ‘Because Sarah Jean Alexander can’. For she is best known for her award-winning chapbook this doesn’t mean she can resist the siren call of being a ‘literary trickster’. As the head of the alt lit publishing house ‘Sad Girl House’ she can indulge in these efforts. Her relationship to Daniel Alexander is also in question, as the two shares the same last name and appears to be remarkably similar in terms of ‘snack love’. Yet little evidence exists of Sarah’s ‘snack pack’ shampoo style. This may be due to her lack of online YouTube presence. 

                Her first picture simply states ‘I’m a Huge Dick’. Does this mean her real identity is that of a man named Richard? There are so many unanswered questions. As she stares at the camera her arms are outstretched in a style reminiscent of a hug. If she was a huge dick why would she hug anybody? Contradictions like this mark her previous work for her ‘Sad Girl House’ and her more recent work as a person in real life. Life itself is extremely contradictory. All Sarah wants to show is such a style is not only a good thing but a necessary thing as well. Sarah wants to show the audience that she is indeed a dick. She fails. Who could hate a face that full of love and glasses? Anybody who could resist the plentiful charms of Sarah has not truly live a remarkable or even mundane life.  

 

                 A hoodie is overhead. Here Sarah appears to be in mid-flight in the fragile eggshell of her mind. Eyes say it all. They are looking upwards towards the heavens. Here the ‘huge’ is put in parentheses, indicating one will discover this out about her eventually, at a yet undetermined point in time. Sarah’s facial expression is as mysterious as Mona Lisa’s, if Mona Lisa lived in Baltimore and served beer. Few understand Baltimore, that weird, city, indifferent to its fate. Could in fact Baltimore be the inspiration to Sarah’s statement of being ‘A huge dick’? Or are her motivations obscured by her life in a ‘Sad Girl House’? 

                For her final picture she looks down, presumably at the hell that exists on Earth. Lately Satan has been making His Almighty presence felt, through various political elections, economic conditions, and severe lack of waffles. At the very end Sarah thanks Theo Thimo for his help through this journey, for Theo remains one of the most unknowable figures in alt lit besides all those anonymous people. Will anybody ever call Sarah a dick again? The answer is yes.



Shabby Doll House




                I’ve said before Shabby Doll House is one of the best things in alt lit. Let me apologize. Shabby Doll House is the best thing in alt lit right now. Love these stories. Out of billions of submissions Lucy chooses just 9 to be fine. From these nine she distills pure-ass essence. Every time I review these I tend to go back and re-read them. Thus one review never feels like it is enough for these brain treats. 

                Sarah Jean Alexander knows about beauty. Or maybe she knows nothing. Beauty is such a difficult thing to define. Looks are one part of it. Confidence is a much bigger part. People can hear confidence, feel confidence, and even taste it in their liquor with pizza. When I think of beauty I think of a perfect nap, I think of that very picture above the poem. An empty space on my bed which I hope will be filled with my best friend. The space is implied, empty for someone. 

                Guillaume Morissette describes Montreal. The apartment he lives in is mostly empty space, hallways. I like that situation. When I have a roommate the less I see the roommate the more I like the roommate. How to describe it is hard but seeing a person you live with less is more comfortable. Waking up should not have to involve discussion of French Canadian roots or separatism. I like the casual level of humor in the story. Jobs are good things to complain about. That’s part of the reason I enjoy working so much. Black holes of people exist. Avoid them. Nobody wants to grow up to be Dan. It happens just like stars collapse to form black holes. 

                Mike Bushnell’s voice comes through loud and clear in his piece. I like the rhythm of this poem/story/shouted piece. Literally as I read it I hear his specific cadence come through with the repeated phrases such as ‘but bring’ or ‘I am not sure’. There’s something amazing with how Mike can just bludgeon you with a column of words. 

                Theo Thimo and LK Shaw appear in Gchat form. Reading these little pieces of ideas reminds me I should be on Gchat more. Whole books are made from Gchat. Here is a rough guide to what is up: LK and Theo switch places, with one setting the other up for hilarity. OJ is a grand life. Can’t believe Theo doesn’t take OJ more seriously. I take my juices very seriously. Glad that Theo hates Jupiter. Out of all of the planets of the solar system Jupiter is the biggest douche. 

                Mallory Whitten takes her time with panic attacks. That’s important. If you think panic attacks age like fine wine you are incorrect. Horrible things happen with panic attacks. Hope Mallory is okay. With panic attacks it is hard to do anything, to sleep, to read, and to eat. Eventually it passes. Unfortunately it requires a lot of time. 

                Frank Hinton appears from her months-long hiatus from the internet. I miss Frank. She is rad. Here she enters a new form of work. This is Frank’s first play. What she does is spend an inordinate amount of time on the internet. It sounds healthy so far. Then she goes to places and does not check the internet. This is a far more worrisome development. Salem plays ‘Till the World’ ends for the Act 3. Wonder how the unfinished play turns out. 

                Chris Dankland’s head is made up of smoke. Despite that problem he sees clearly. It doesn’t matter when. Late at night in a Denny’s is when he truly shines. Only in the darkness can anybody shine. Sure it is easy to be a nice person when everyone is watching. When nobody is looking or the wrong people are looking it is so easy to be bad, hard to be good. 

                I’m here. This is a rare occurrence, perhaps the only time I will do this strange thing. Listen to the following song when reading the story. Sorry if it doesn’t sync up properly but hey, I’m a weird kind of sloth. Here is the song for the story: Mouse on Mars – Parastrophics – iMatch – Track 8. 

                Jesus Moses is messing up the sky. Whatever he can’t touch he destroys. That’s messed up. Feel sorry for the sky. At least at the end of it he’s super weird and everybody else is normal. Strangeness is a commodity precious few are privy to. 

                Love the artwork for this thing. It makes me feel alive. Having the mix between outright poetry, Gchats, stories, and the first play is indeed a fantastic thing. Indeed, to quote the wise bard Jackson Nieuwland ‘Everything is fantastic’.

Shabby Doll House

                I’ve said before Shabby Doll House is one of the best things in alt lit. Let me apologize. Shabby Doll House is the best thing in alt lit right now. Love these stories. Out of billions of submissions Lucy chooses just 9 to be fine. From these nine she distills pure-ass essence. Every time I review these I tend to go back and re-read them. Thus one review never feels like it is enough for these brain treats. 

                Sarah Jean Alexander knows about beauty. Or maybe she knows nothing. Beauty is such a difficult thing to define. Looks are one part of it. Confidence is a much bigger part. People can hear confidence, feel confidence, and even taste it in their liquor with pizza. When I think of beauty I think of a perfect nap, I think of that very picture above the poem. An empty space on my bed which I hope will be filled with my best friend. The space is implied, empty for someone. 

                Guillaume Morissette describes Montreal. The apartment he lives in is mostly empty space, hallways. I like that situation. When I have a roommate the less I see the roommate the more I like the roommate. How to describe it is hard but seeing a person you live with less is more comfortable. Waking up should not have to involve discussion of French Canadian roots or separatism. I like the casual level of humor in the story. Jobs are good things to complain about. That’s part of the reason I enjoy working so much. Black holes of people exist. Avoid them. Nobody wants to grow up to be Dan. It happens just like stars collapse to form black holes. 

                Mike Bushnell’s voice comes through loud and clear in his piece. I like the rhythm of this poem/story/shouted piece. Literally as I read it I hear his specific cadence come through with the repeated phrases such as ‘but bring’ or ‘I am not sure’. There’s something amazing with how Mike can just bludgeon you with a column of words. 

                Theo Thimo and LK Shaw appear in Gchat form. Reading these little pieces of ideas reminds me I should be on Gchat more. Whole books are made from Gchat. Here is a rough guide to what is up: LK and Theo switch places, with one setting the other up for hilarity. OJ is a grand life. Can’t believe Theo doesn’t take OJ more seriously. I take my juices very seriously. Glad that Theo hates Jupiter. Out of all of the planets of the solar system Jupiter is the biggest douche. 

                Mallory Whitten takes her time with panic attacks. That’s important. If you think panic attacks age like fine wine you are incorrect. Horrible things happen with panic attacks. Hope Mallory is okay. With panic attacks it is hard to do anything, to sleep, to read, and to eat. Eventually it passes. Unfortunately it requires a lot of time. 

                Frank Hinton appears from her months-long hiatus from the internet. I miss Frank. She is rad. Here she enters a new form of work. This is Frank’s first play. What she does is spend an inordinate amount of time on the internet. It sounds healthy so far. Then she goes to places and does not check the internet. This is a far more worrisome development. Salem plays ‘Till the World’ ends for the Act 3. Wonder how the unfinished play turns out. 

                Chris Dankland’s head is made up of smoke. Despite that problem he sees clearly. It doesn’t matter when. Late at night in a Denny’s is when he truly shines. Only in the darkness can anybody shine. Sure it is easy to be a nice person when everyone is watching. When nobody is looking or the wrong people are looking it is so easy to be bad, hard to be good. 

                I’m here. This is a rare occurrence, perhaps the only time I will do this strange thing. Listen to the following song when reading the story. Sorry if it doesn’t sync up properly but hey, I’m a weird kind of sloth. Here is the song for the story: Mouse on Mars – Parastrophics – iMatch – Track 8. 

                Jesus Moses is messing up the sky. Whatever he can’t touch he destroys. That’s messed up. Feel sorry for the sky. At least at the end of it he’s super weird and everybody else is normal. Strangeness is a commodity precious few are privy to. 

                Love the artwork for this thing. It makes me feel alive. Having the mix between outright poetry, Gchats, stories, and the first play is indeed a fantastic thing. Indeed, to quote the wise bard Jackson Nieuwland ‘Everything is fantastic’.