I’M DANIEL ALEXANDER AND I’M WRITING A BOOK by Libby Rindal


                Libby speaks to all the bored people of America. She tells them “Put down the video game and give a hoot, read a book”. Nobody takes her up on this offer. Building a railroad out of her ribcage is a great thing. Usually the ribcage is used as a xylophone in cartoons. Her new usage makes more sense as public transportation is wonderful. People love Libby’s intoxicating ‘Eau Du Bowling Alley’ smell. Bowling alleys are the birth places of dreams. Here Libby can seduce countless pin jockeys with her sweet words. Only thing she wants is her hair to remain clean. With a shampoo/conditioner hybrid that’s easy enough to do. 

                Sweet dreams are not made from Libby’s imagination. Swimming in a dream indicates that the person must continue to go forward. Libby’s grandmother convinces her that life is worth living, and then she repeatedly stabs her in the back to confirm this is what life is all about. Getting stabbed in the back is part of growing up. When somebody doesn’t get stabbed in the back well by golly that’s a swell day! Unfortunately Libby’s cellphone rudely awakens her from this pleasant dream. The lesson of the dream is clear: not to swim naked. If somebody swims naked they should expect a knife in the back. 

                Deities explain everything. Libby wishes there was a deity to explain how people look at her. What Libby doesn’t realize is that she herself is a deity because she is a true goddess. Many envy the way Libby listens to ominous 80s music. In the 80s lots of things were ominous since Reagan wanted it that way. Reagan was big into the occult. At least Libby’s diet is going well. Though dead skin and fingernails may appear to be an extreme diet it is just another part of growing up. Anxiety needs a diet why not dead things. 

                Crying paint is a rare skill. Libby cries paint all over her bed, probably because she’s the deity of paint. Nobody told her this fact. She had to learn it on her own. So while Libby can’t cry anybody a river, in a three day period she cries enough paint to paint both a living room and kitchen. That’s not easy. Her little brother isn’t easy either. By calling things ‘stupid’ Libby’s brother fails to see the beauty of stupidity. Ignorance is a hell of a drug. People get high off of their stupidity every day. They are called ‘teachers’. 

                By the end everything crumbles except Libby. Libby is tough, built Ford-tough. She is like a rock, oh yeah, like a rock. Libby Rindal is the Chevy Pickup truck of alt lit.       

I’M DANIEL ALEXANDER AND I’M WRITING A BOOK by Libby Rindal

                Libby speaks to all the bored people of America. She tells them “Put down the video game and give a hoot, read a book”. Nobody takes her up on this offer. Building a railroad out of her ribcage is a great thing. Usually the ribcage is used as a xylophone in cartoons. Her new usage makes more sense as public transportation is wonderful. People love Libby’s intoxicating ‘Eau Du Bowling Alley’ smell. Bowling alleys are the birth places of dreams. Here Libby can seduce countless pin jockeys with her sweet words. Only thing she wants is her hair to remain clean. With a shampoo/conditioner hybrid that’s easy enough to do. 

                Sweet dreams are not made from Libby’s imagination. Swimming in a dream indicates that the person must continue to go forward. Libby’s grandmother convinces her that life is worth living, and then she repeatedly stabs her in the back to confirm this is what life is all about. Getting stabbed in the back is part of growing up. When somebody doesn’t get stabbed in the back well by golly that’s a swell day! Unfortunately Libby’s cellphone rudely awakens her from this pleasant dream. The lesson of the dream is clear: not to swim naked. If somebody swims naked they should expect a knife in the back. 

                Deities explain everything. Libby wishes there was a deity to explain how people look at her. What Libby doesn’t realize is that she herself is a deity because she is a true goddess. Many envy the way Libby listens to ominous 80s music. In the 80s lots of things were ominous since Reagan wanted it that way. Reagan was big into the occult. At least Libby’s diet is going well. Though dead skin and fingernails may appear to be an extreme diet it is just another part of growing up. Anxiety needs a diet why not dead things. 

                Crying paint is a rare skill. Libby cries paint all over her bed, probably because she’s the deity of paint. Nobody told her this fact. She had to learn it on her own. So while Libby can’t cry anybody a river, in a three day period she cries enough paint to paint both a living room and kitchen. That’s not easy. Her little brother isn’t easy either. By calling things ‘stupid’ Libby’s brother fails to see the beauty of stupidity. Ignorance is a hell of a drug. People get high off of their stupidity every day. They are called ‘teachers’. 

                By the end everything crumbles except Libby. Libby is tough, built Ford-tough. She is like a rock, oh yeah, like a rock. Libby Rindal is the Chevy Pickup truck of alt lit.       

Wet Suffering Picnic by Devon Branin


                Devon explains how to not become famous. There are many ways. For fame is a fleeing thing. It is a fleeting thing too but that’s for the lucky ones. Unlucky ones (better known as the ordinary) go on dates from OK Cupid. Ordinary people find failure on dating sites. After an online date the best thing one can do is to sit down and sob. Humanity is bleak like that. In this poem learning to play the guitar disguises the loneliness. Being tone deaf makes such a thing more obvious. Walking around aimlessly finding money on the ground makes it crystal clear. Luck plays a part in keeping phones and gaining money. It is called being fortunate. 

                Factories need to be up and running. The industrial revolution did great things. Now is the era of the industrial devolution. People worked in factories for a long time. During that difficult period those worker thought ‘Man this space would make a really great loft’. Workers of the world never needed to unite. All the workers of the world needed were a good night’s rest, something that continues to elude the service-based economy. Soon all factories of the world will be lofts. Nothing else needs to be created. Everything that is needed is in abundance somewhere around here. And everybody will someday get a good night’s rest. 

                Aprons turn on Devon. He’s a fan of the apron life. The use of the word ‘yo’ indicates a sense of playfulness. While he encourages apron usage he takes it light-heartedly. Upon completion of the apron request he goes on about how indie he is, in terms of sheer temperament. This is important. Without the mainstream there would be no indie. Mainstream and indie co-exist. This is the cultural ecosystem. Often the two meet in a delicious candy-coated shell entitled ‘Pixar’ something the whole family can enjoy. 

                Ponds thick of honey are for the thick-framed glasses-wearing boys of the world. The place has a name: it is Brooklyn. Without thick-framed glasses there would be no attraction. Using the glasses one can see everything. Love requires 20/20 vision. On any given street in Brooklyn someone is in love, in their 20s, working a menial job and dreaming for more. Brooklyn is the American dream with artistic flair. Brooklyn gives good things a life. 

                Cursing happens. Devon tries to stop himself. He says he shouldn’t be using the word ‘fucking’. Yet he does it again and again. Pinecone breeding is dangerous. Forest fires create new forests from those pinecones. Many liken pinecones to the least sexy version of a phoenix ever. That sounds about right. To celebrate the cuteness of everything that preceded it Devon ends it with a romantic tryst to America’s heartland, Topeka, Kansas. Home is where the heartland is.

Wet Suffering Picnic by Devon Branin

                Devon explains how to not become famous. There are many ways. For fame is a fleeing thing. It is a fleeting thing too but that’s for the lucky ones. Unlucky ones (better known as the ordinary) go on dates from OK Cupid. Ordinary people find failure on dating sites. After an online date the best thing one can do is to sit down and sob. Humanity is bleak like that. In this poem learning to play the guitar disguises the loneliness. Being tone deaf makes such a thing more obvious. Walking around aimlessly finding money on the ground makes it crystal clear. Luck plays a part in keeping phones and gaining money. It is called being fortunate. 

                Factories need to be up and running. The industrial revolution did great things. Now is the era of the industrial devolution. People worked in factories for a long time. During that difficult period those worker thought ‘Man this space would make a really great loft’. Workers of the world never needed to unite. All the workers of the world needed were a good night’s rest, something that continues to elude the service-based economy. Soon all factories of the world will be lofts. Nothing else needs to be created. Everything that is needed is in abundance somewhere around here. And everybody will someday get a good night’s rest. 

                Aprons turn on Devon. He’s a fan of the apron life. The use of the word ‘yo’ indicates a sense of playfulness. While he encourages apron usage he takes it light-heartedly. Upon completion of the apron request he goes on about how indie he is, in terms of sheer temperament. This is important. Without the mainstream there would be no indie. Mainstream and indie co-exist. This is the cultural ecosystem. Often the two meet in a delicious candy-coated shell entitled ‘Pixar’ something the whole family can enjoy. 

                Ponds thick of honey are for the thick-framed glasses-wearing boys of the world. The place has a name: it is Brooklyn. Without thick-framed glasses there would be no attraction. Using the glasses one can see everything. Love requires 20/20 vision. On any given street in Brooklyn someone is in love, in their 20s, working a menial job and dreaming for more. Brooklyn is the American dream with artistic flair. Brooklyn gives good things a life. 

                Cursing happens. Devon tries to stop himself. He says he shouldn’t be using the word ‘fucking’. Yet he does it again and again. Pinecone breeding is dangerous. Forest fires create new forests from those pinecones. Many liken pinecones to the least sexy version of a phoenix ever. That sounds about right. To celebrate the cuteness of everything that preceded it Devon ends it with a romantic tryst to America’s heartland, Topeka, Kansas. Home is where the heartland is.

A/S/L by Rachel Benson


                Google is full of knowledge. When one speaks to Google it can be a little tough. Oftentimes Google tells the truth. There’s no sugar-coating. Algorithms can be distasteful. In fact Google knows people better than people know people. It’s worrisome. What happens when that which is created to serve humanity knows humanity too well? Is the revolution going to be on Google? Is the revolution a searchable, Google-able term? Google bombs are the beginning. When does life with Google end and real life begin? Or is all of life found on Google? Only a few nomads and hermits remain out of reach of Google’s greasy grasp. 

                Famous people smell fine. Every famous person sells their smells. This can’t be found online. Smells remain out of reach for the internet, for now. Yet food can be obtained on the internet. It is Dominos. Rare foods are online too. Truffles, Hostess, and more are online, ready to be purchased by diligent dilettantes. Online life encourages this level of expertise.  Niches are needed for everyone. With the internet there is no need for ‘broad-based knowledge’. Everyone is a specialist to someone. Here Rachel mentions the smell-o-graph technology. It is still in beta-testing. It is extremely important. 

                Moms are online. Usually moms spy on their children. Here Rachel spies on her mom. Everything her mom thinks is online. A new gardener plants the flowers of love in her mom’s heart. Various television shows occupy her mother’s fragile, eggshell British mind. Despite being estranged from her mother, Rachel retains the Facebook friendship. There is no reason to do otherwise. Facebook is a gateway drug for a greater online addiction. Her mom knows this yet is powerless to stop it. Rather her mom embraces the ability to share everything online. It is okay. Online remains a mystery for parents. For their children it is a whole new world. 

                Poetry is powerful on Facebook. Gilbert Morgan starts out first. He is an internet dad. What Gilbert does is spy on his kids via the power of the internet. This is the worst invasion of privacy for there is no relief from the internet. Another one shows a desperate plea from an American to do the right thing and elect the right person. Rachel makes a love of similes stating America’s Presidential election doesn’t matter. It probably did. It is hard to say. Either way America still exists. And that’s the most important thing. 

                Twitter is an important social media platform. Some use Twitter to show off how witty they are. Others use Twitter to show how shitty they are. Usually it is the same thing. Rachel collaborates with the top tier in the Twitter game. That’s just how Rachel rolls. Crossword puzzles bring it to a close. An analysis of URL versus IRL is done. Essentially it is the same thing. The biggest difference is with a URL everyone is equal. IRL is the ultimate un-equalizer. Of course it ends with a plea to follow her in the Twitter-o-Sphere. Wild things are happening on Twitter. Rachel is a part of it. Rachel’s Twitter handle is where the wild things are.          

A/S/L by Rachel Benson

                Google is full of knowledge. When one speaks to Google it can be a little tough. Oftentimes Google tells the truth. There’s no sugar-coating. Algorithms can be distasteful. In fact Google knows people better than people know people. It’s worrisome. What happens when that which is created to serve humanity knows humanity too well? Is the revolution going to be on Google? Is the revolution a searchable, Google-able term? Google bombs are the beginning. When does life with Google end and real life begin? Or is all of life found on Google? Only a few nomads and hermits remain out of reach of Google’s greasy grasp. 

                Famous people smell fine. Every famous person sells their smells. This can’t be found online. Smells remain out of reach for the internet, for now. Yet food can be obtained on the internet. It is Dominos. Rare foods are online too. Truffles, Hostess, and more are online, ready to be purchased by diligent dilettantes. Online life encourages this level of expertise.  Niches are needed for everyone. With the internet there is no need for ‘broad-based knowledge’. Everyone is a specialist to someone. Here Rachel mentions the smell-o-graph technology. It is still in beta-testing. It is extremely important. 

                Moms are online. Usually moms spy on their children. Here Rachel spies on her mom. Everything her mom thinks is online. A new gardener plants the flowers of love in her mom’s heart. Various television shows occupy her mother’s fragile, eggshell British mind. Despite being estranged from her mother, Rachel retains the Facebook friendship. There is no reason to do otherwise. Facebook is a gateway drug for a greater online addiction. Her mom knows this yet is powerless to stop it. Rather her mom embraces the ability to share everything online. It is okay. Online remains a mystery for parents. For their children it is a whole new world. 

                Poetry is powerful on Facebook. Gilbert Morgan starts out first. He is an internet dad. What Gilbert does is spy on his kids via the power of the internet. This is the worst invasion of privacy for there is no relief from the internet. Another one shows a desperate plea from an American to do the right thing and elect the right person. Rachel makes a love of similes stating America’s Presidential election doesn’t matter. It probably did. It is hard to say. Either way America still exists. And that’s the most important thing. 

                Twitter is an important social media platform. Some use Twitter to show off how witty they are. Others use Twitter to show how shitty they are. Usually it is the same thing. Rachel collaborates with the top tier in the Twitter game. That’s just how Rachel rolls. Crossword puzzles bring it to a close. An analysis of URL versus IRL is done. Essentially it is the same thing. The biggest difference is with a URL everyone is equal. IRL is the ultimate un-equalizer. Of course it ends with a plea to follow her in the Twitter-o-Sphere. Wild things are happening on Twitter. Rachel is a part of it. Rachel’s Twitter handle is where the wild things are.          

No by Keegan Crawford



                Keegan rejects everything in this chapbook. No matter what it is he destroys it. Nothing is left in its wake. Without even trying Keegan shows the cruel harsh underbelly of a society against the world. Everyone is a fraction of a percent in this chapbook. Becoming a full human being is impossible in this tumultuous climate. People try. People fail. After a while going through this chapbook leads one to tears. Is everything this hopeless? Can there be any salvation whatsoever? 

                Interactions with others are kept to a pure minimum. The action takes place in the mind. Keegan leaves this up to the reader to interpret. Whatever can be said of the character is he is distraught. He can’t achieve anything positive for himself. Stasis sets in within this chapbook. Work happens. Sleep happens. Layoffs happen. Life is shown for its hideous brutal reality. 

                Yet there is a lot that is funny about this chapbook. Sex while sad it made funny. One of the best lines has to be ‘Somehow ejaculated into my own asshole. Seems bleak’ this line barely makes any sense for the character lacks gender. Early on Keegan makes it clear the main character is a eunuch from the 14th century. Lacking a penis the eunuch waxes nostalgic for a better time when he had genitals. The harshness of this is compared to the modern day incarnation of the eunuch.

                Here a jaded twenty something appears. He steals from the local 7/11 every Friday. It is a habit with him. Without this trip he’d starve. In the jaded twenty something’s free time he plays in a local synth band. They have received attention on various music blogs. One local Kentucky newspaper calls them “the next Container”. Most of the jaded twenty something’s life is sad. In comparison with the eunuch the jaded twenty something lost his voice and can’t find it. The jaded twenty something has a dick. That counts for something at least. 

                By the end it is obvious Keegan wants to show the harshness of rejecting everything. The eunuch rejects his own dick choosing to forever keep his childhood pristine. Yet the eunuch by preserving his childhood loses the ability to evolve. Also the eunuch dies from the plague. Dying from the plague totally sucks. The jaded twenty something for all his jaded quality shows the possibly of evolving into something greater but it is up to him. Maybe instead of saying no the jaded twenty something needs to learn how to say ‘yes’. Keegan leaves the ending ambiguous.

No by Keegan Crawford

                Keegan rejects everything in this chapbook. No matter what it is he destroys it. Nothing is left in its wake. Without even trying Keegan shows the cruel harsh underbelly of a society against the world. Everyone is a fraction of a percent in this chapbook. Becoming a full human being is impossible in this tumultuous climate. People try. People fail. After a while going through this chapbook leads one to tears. Is everything this hopeless? Can there be any salvation whatsoever? 

                Interactions with others are kept to a pure minimum. The action takes place in the mind. Keegan leaves this up to the reader to interpret. Whatever can be said of the character is he is distraught. He can’t achieve anything positive for himself. Stasis sets in within this chapbook. Work happens. Sleep happens. Layoffs happen. Life is shown for its hideous brutal reality. 

                Yet there is a lot that is funny about this chapbook. Sex while sad it made funny. One of the best lines has to be ‘Somehow ejaculated into my own asshole. Seems bleak’ this line barely makes any sense for the character lacks gender. Early on Keegan makes it clear the main character is a eunuch from the 14th century. Lacking a penis the eunuch waxes nostalgic for a better time when he had genitals. The harshness of this is compared to the modern day incarnation of the eunuch.

                Here a jaded twenty something appears. He steals from the local 7/11 every Friday. It is a habit with him. Without this trip he’d starve. In the jaded twenty something’s free time he plays in a local synth band. They have received attention on various music blogs. One local Kentucky newspaper calls them “the next Container”. Most of the jaded twenty something’s life is sad. In comparison with the eunuch the jaded twenty something lost his voice and can’t find it. The jaded twenty something has a dick. That counts for something at least. 

                By the end it is obvious Keegan wants to show the harshness of rejecting everything. The eunuch rejects his own dick choosing to forever keep his childhood pristine. Yet the eunuch by preserving his childhood loses the ability to evolve. Also the eunuch dies from the plague. Dying from the plague totally sucks. The jaded twenty something for all his jaded quality shows the possibly of evolving into something greater but it is up to him. Maybe instead of saying no the jaded twenty something needs to learn how to say ‘yes’. Keegan leaves the ending ambiguous.

Keep yr heart in the cloud by John Rogers


                Ah yes it is so easy to keep one’s heart in the cloud. Keeping one’s heart in the cloud is the new love. Everybody has access to all sorts of different hearts in the cloud. This is the internet after all. Without the internet emotions wouldn’t even exist anymore. For every time somebody goes onto the internet they follow their true id. Nothing stops them from being true. Life does that, forces people to edit. On the internet people were born to run. 

                The reader is invited to disappear into the tabs. Tabs are better online than offline. One can find a whole world online. In one’s mind is a terrible place to live. Hopefully building a homepage will cheer up John. Life in the internet is sweet. People hide there forever. Some are lurkers, others are supporters, and finally the rest simply come there to relax. Engagement online is different. In a way it is better. No uniform is necessary for the internet. Exhaustion bothers people less on the internet. For even when one is away from the internet, the presence builds. 

                Streams run across the internet. Information feeds the highway. An open hearts suggests an opportunity to ‘get vulnerable’. John’s open heart looks fairly healthy. Wonder why surgery is even happening. Guess he’s recovering from a broken heart and only a doctor can put it back together. The internet feels empty. Perhaps what is being inserted into John’s heart is the internet. It wouldn’t be the first time. Usually internet love can cure ailments of all kinds: from depression, disappointment, etc. 

                Voice is strong on the internet. One can speak up at any time. Somebody is always there listening, understanding. Away from the internet the person is still there. Online personas are funny that way. Messages linger. Likes hove about. Notifications remind people they are cared about. Without them people could not keep tabs on affection. In a way notifications are reservoirs of pure joy, stored up to be released in one cathartic smile. Getting lost is easier when it is with a friend. Alone being lost is a terrible thing. One should always have friends to guide them along, lift them up, and comfort them no matter how far away. 

John Rogers enjoys the heart in the clouds experience. He wants others to read his heart online. What better way to do it than with this book, filled with tender pictures, places, and things. Little words illuminate. Macros feel sweeter thanks to John. He gives them meaning beyond the usual ‘tee-hee’ into more of an ‘Aw’ emotion.

Keep yr heart in the cloud by John Rogers

                Ah yes it is so easy to keep one’s heart in the cloud. Keeping one’s heart in the cloud is the new love. Everybody has access to all sorts of different hearts in the cloud. This is the internet after all. Without the internet emotions wouldn’t even exist anymore. For every time somebody goes onto the internet they follow their true id. Nothing stops them from being true. Life does that, forces people to edit. On the internet people were born to run. 

                The reader is invited to disappear into the tabs. Tabs are better online than offline. One can find a whole world online. In one’s mind is a terrible place to live. Hopefully building a homepage will cheer up John. Life in the internet is sweet. People hide there forever. Some are lurkers, others are supporters, and finally the rest simply come there to relax. Engagement online is different. In a way it is better. No uniform is necessary for the internet. Exhaustion bothers people less on the internet. For even when one is away from the internet, the presence builds. 

                Streams run across the internet. Information feeds the highway. An open hearts suggests an opportunity to ‘get vulnerable’. John’s open heart looks fairly healthy. Wonder why surgery is even happening. Guess he’s recovering from a broken heart and only a doctor can put it back together. The internet feels empty. Perhaps what is being inserted into John’s heart is the internet. It wouldn’t be the first time. Usually internet love can cure ailments of all kinds: from depression, disappointment, etc. 

                Voice is strong on the internet. One can speak up at any time. Somebody is always there listening, understanding. Away from the internet the person is still there. Online personas are funny that way. Messages linger. Likes hove about. Notifications remind people they are cared about. Without them people could not keep tabs on affection. In a way notifications are reservoirs of pure joy, stored up to be released in one cathartic smile. Getting lost is easier when it is with a friend. Alone being lost is a terrible thing. One should always have friends to guide them along, lift them up, and comfort them no matter how far away. 

John Rogers enjoys the heart in the clouds experience. He wants others to read his heart online. What better way to do it than with this book, filled with tender pictures, places, and things. Little words illuminate. Macros feel sweeter thanks to John. He gives them meaning beyond the usual ‘tee-hee’ into more of an ‘Aw’ emotion.

The Things I’ve Done for the Internet by Lauren Marie Grant


               Lauren Marie Grant does a lot for the internet. For one, she exists on the internet. Her second greatest accomplishment is this PDF. Over the course of this chapbook she mentions the many things she does for the internet, like being on it, searching for cats, searching for meaning. As she stares at ice cream cats (better known by the abbreviation ICC) she wonders why anybody does such a thing. She is waiting for Indian food to be brought to her via bike. Bicyclists are the horsemen of the 21st century. 

                $2.53 per minute is an extraordinarily dark aspect of the internet. For this amount Lauren sat in her room and listened to The Smiths while partially nude (underwear, etc.). Sometimes she did not take off a thing. Lonely men paid her money to watch her. Lonely men paid her to feel less lonely. This is the sad part of the internet where interaction must be paid for, to feel something. Many who live in this world end up feeling hurt. Part of the internet presence is to feel a degree of ‘revelation’ or ‘showing oneself’. In a way the internet creates a more real form of reality where nothing is kept off limits. Pictures spread like wildfire on the internet. Good thing the laptop breaks and Lauren can escape from the weird life of $2.53 per minute. 

                Older parents dislike the internet. They find it an invasion of privacy which it is to a large degree. Instagram bothers Lauren’s dad. Yet she still takes the picture. It is surprising that her Grandma has a boyfriend. After a while grandparents usually become asexual, tree-like in stature. No longer do they engage in anything sexual. Every grandparent has two missions: to have a seemingly endless amount of candy and to occasionally indulge grandchildren. After those two things really grandparents have little else to do. 

                Deep connections are forged over the internet. Lauren knows it. Favorites are the smiles of the digital world. Re-tweets are the hugs of the digital world. Skype is the portal of the real world from the distance of the internet. These are all wonderful things. As real life and the internet continue to merge into a whole it becomes easier to show one’s care and consideration for those who help others throughout the day. Support is easiest through the internet. 

                Myspace quizzes were the horoscopes of the early internet age. People got boyfriends and girlfriends that way. At the very least a person got a date or two out of an online presence. Now there are dating sites dedicated to such things. The internet can be a creepy place for those unaccustomed to distance in relationships. Yet it can work far better than simply meeting a person in person. For then there is the awkwardness, the ability to be a complete dork in person. On the internet people can act considerably cooler. 

                Lurking on the internet is a sad thing. It confirms the things in life better left unknown. Big cities are big about that. One day there will be a whole get-together of these sorts of people that one has met either directly or indirectly. Life is strange that way. So many paths, even the ones less taken are full of travelers. Neopets need to engage in combat. Without combat a neopet grows complacent. There needs to be a challenge in order for the neopet to evolve to the next level of neopet, from delicious doughnutfruit to something more substantial. 

                Her final piece thanks the reader. And she’s right some things on the internet can never be unseen. That’s the pain of life. Oftentimes ignorance is bliss. When it is not is when things get interesting. The internet is a diamond: forever cached.

The Things I’ve Done for the Internet by Lauren Marie Grant

               Lauren Marie Grant does a lot for the internet. For one, she exists on the internet. Her second greatest accomplishment is this PDF. Over the course of this chapbook she mentions the many things she does for the internet, like being on it, searching for cats, searching for meaning. As she stares at ice cream cats (better known by the abbreviation ICC) she wonders why anybody does such a thing. She is waiting for Indian food to be brought to her via bike. Bicyclists are the horsemen of the 21st century. 

                $2.53 per minute is an extraordinarily dark aspect of the internet. For this amount Lauren sat in her room and listened to The Smiths while partially nude (underwear, etc.). Sometimes she did not take off a thing. Lonely men paid her money to watch her. Lonely men paid her to feel less lonely. This is the sad part of the internet where interaction must be paid for, to feel something. Many who live in this world end up feeling hurt. Part of the internet presence is to feel a degree of ‘revelation’ or ‘showing oneself’. In a way the internet creates a more real form of reality where nothing is kept off limits. Pictures spread like wildfire on the internet. Good thing the laptop breaks and Lauren can escape from the weird life of $2.53 per minute. 

                Older parents dislike the internet. They find it an invasion of privacy which it is to a large degree. Instagram bothers Lauren’s dad. Yet she still takes the picture. It is surprising that her Grandma has a boyfriend. After a while grandparents usually become asexual, tree-like in stature. No longer do they engage in anything sexual. Every grandparent has two missions: to have a seemingly endless amount of candy and to occasionally indulge grandchildren. After those two things really grandparents have little else to do. 

                Deep connections are forged over the internet. Lauren knows it. Favorites are the smiles of the digital world. Re-tweets are the hugs of the digital world. Skype is the portal of the real world from the distance of the internet. These are all wonderful things. As real life and the internet continue to merge into a whole it becomes easier to show one’s care and consideration for those who help others throughout the day. Support is easiest through the internet. 

                Myspace quizzes were the horoscopes of the early internet age. People got boyfriends and girlfriends that way. At the very least a person got a date or two out of an online presence. Now there are dating sites dedicated to such things. The internet can be a creepy place for those unaccustomed to distance in relationships. Yet it can work far better than simply meeting a person in person. For then there is the awkwardness, the ability to be a complete dork in person. On the internet people can act considerably cooler. 

                Lurking on the internet is a sad thing. It confirms the things in life better left unknown. Big cities are big about that. One day there will be a whole get-together of these sorts of people that one has met either directly or indirectly. Life is strange that way. So many paths, even the ones less taken are full of travelers. Neopets need to engage in combat. Without combat a neopet grows complacent. There needs to be a challenge in order for the neopet to evolve to the next level of neopet, from delicious doughnutfruit to something more substantial. 

                Her final piece thanks the reader. And she’s right some things on the internet can never be unseen. That’s the pain of life. Oftentimes ignorance is bliss. When it is not is when things get interesting. The internet is a diamond: forever cached.

Brown Fuzzy Words by Shaun Gannon



                Space is scary. Nobody can hear you scream there. Insult what you will about the world with all its problems at least people can hear you scream. That’s important because volume is one of the main ways you can work through frustration. Listen to Shaun Gannon’s many performances. In space nobody would even know that he is Shaun Gannon. Also there isn’t any oxygen is space so Shaun would probably die. Hope Shaun never gives a reading in outer space. For this first half it documents the typical coffee table chit-chat before getting ‘extreme’. Chicken dinners are the most extreme to have in one’s life. Maryland takes chicken dinners very seriously letting royalty end up the farms. 

                Extremeness is the focal point of ‘Shooting Sleeping Soldiers’. Shaun shows us Rob and Joe. They live deep fulfilling lives. On the other side they shoot sleeping soldiers. Joe is exceptional at this game. I understand Joe’s life. A friend of mine got a college scholarship through his obsessive work with Starcraft. Like was it extremely unhealthy? Yes it was. Did he get $10,000 for playing a game over and over again until he was really annoying to play any game with? Yes he did. Various little punk children yell at Joe. They yell back. Due to the constant yelling of ‘Fuck you kid’ they are disconnected. 

                In the Addendum Shaun goes into a not heavily fictionalized history. There’s the mention of the corporate background of how ‘Shooting Sleeping Soldiers’ came to be. Shaun has a lot of fun figuring out exactly what systems work best ‘Shooting Sleeping Soldiers’. We learn about the gameplay. It is so basic. You crawl on your stomach and eventually pass out due to a lack of sleep. Right in the beginning it sounds less like literature and more like a case study. I expected that next it would mention the name of some developer and say ‘Rebecca had a tough choice: release now with errors in time for Christmas or hold off for release of a perfect game for next Christmas’. 

                ‘The Mason’ is a clear reference to Mason Johnson, the Mason Johnson of Chicago. I think it is a little ridiculous that poor Mason is killed in six seconds and that this is shown on YouTube. Various subsets of the type of player are shown as well. Mortars, grenadiers, all sorts of uncouth gentlemen adorn these games. Even a version of OWNAGE is present with the ‘shove a grenade in their mouth and pull the pull’. Right as I wrote that previous line somebody screamed/groaned in my building. Yes it is that intense. Fan sites are brought up along with quotes from said website. 

                At the very end is a dry, Reuters-style depiction of a fictional event. Shaun describes this kind of mindless or mindful violence so well. Is Shaun Gannon the Claude Van Damme of alt lit? I’d say no, Shaun is way taller than that Hollywood fake. Prepare yourself for a deeply strange, oddly immersive set of stories.

Brown Fuzzy Words by Shaun Gannon

                Space is scary. Nobody can hear you scream there. Insult what you will about the world with all its problems at least people can hear you scream. That’s important because volume is one of the main ways you can work through frustration. Listen to Shaun Gannon’s many performances. In space nobody would even know that he is Shaun Gannon. Also there isn’t any oxygen is space so Shaun would probably die. Hope Shaun never gives a reading in outer space. For this first half it documents the typical coffee table chit-chat before getting ‘extreme’. Chicken dinners are the most extreme to have in one’s life. Maryland takes chicken dinners very seriously letting royalty end up the farms. 

                Extremeness is the focal point of ‘Shooting Sleeping Soldiers’. Shaun shows us Rob and Joe. They live deep fulfilling lives. On the other side they shoot sleeping soldiers. Joe is exceptional at this game. I understand Joe’s life. A friend of mine got a college scholarship through his obsessive work with Starcraft. Like was it extremely unhealthy? Yes it was. Did he get $10,000 for playing a game over and over again until he was really annoying to play any game with? Yes he did. Various little punk children yell at Joe. They yell back. Due to the constant yelling of ‘Fuck you kid’ they are disconnected. 

                In the Addendum Shaun goes into a not heavily fictionalized history. There’s the mention of the corporate background of how ‘Shooting Sleeping Soldiers’ came to be. Shaun has a lot of fun figuring out exactly what systems work best ‘Shooting Sleeping Soldiers’. We learn about the gameplay. It is so basic. You crawl on your stomach and eventually pass out due to a lack of sleep. Right in the beginning it sounds less like literature and more like a case study. I expected that next it would mention the name of some developer and say ‘Rebecca had a tough choice: release now with errors in time for Christmas or hold off for release of a perfect game for next Christmas’. 

                ‘The Mason’ is a clear reference to Mason Johnson, the Mason Johnson of Chicago. I think it is a little ridiculous that poor Mason is killed in six seconds and that this is shown on YouTube. Various subsets of the type of player are shown as well. Mortars, grenadiers, all sorts of uncouth gentlemen adorn these games. Even a version of OWNAGE is present with the ‘shove a grenade in their mouth and pull the pull’. Right as I wrote that previous line somebody screamed/groaned in my building. Yes it is that intense. Fan sites are brought up along with quotes from said website. 

                At the very end is a dry, Reuters-style depiction of a fictional event. Shaun describes this kind of mindless or mindful violence so well. Is Shaun Gannon the Claude Van Damme of alt lit? I’d say no, Shaun is way taller than that Hollywood fake. Prepare yourself for a deeply strange, oddly immersive set of stories.

I WRITE AMBIGUOUSLY ABOUT SHIPS AND THE WATER by Samuel Von Allen




                Poetry saves lives. Millions of people each year rely on poetry. Think of poetry as a literal lifesaver. Memes are part of poetry. Why not? Ambitions with Memes can be a true reflection of one’s deeply held thoughts and dreams. When Memes are poetry you can have poetry anytime. Indeed Memes may be the pizza bagels of poetry. Don’t stop at one. Explore it. 

                Comfortable silences with others are rare. Knowing you don’t have to say a thing and it is fine is the best feeling of all. That’s when minds take over. Have a conversation with people. Let it lead into the part where everyone can stare at each other and know what they are going to say. No it is not predictability. This is something more than predictability. It is the ability to exist in others’ minds, pull up a chair, grab a pillow and gently fall asleep.

                Dead people sleep forever. Yet their sleep helps you out. Think of all the dead people did knowing their own mortality. It is amazing that despite mortality people are able to accomplish so much with life. Life lasts for such a short period of time. Those who appreciate that limited time are able to do something beautiful with it. YOLO is a lifestyle, not a choice. 

                Wait you can turn off the computer? Wonder when that happens. Feel seeing turned off computer is the saddest thing possible. People are online all the time. Connections last a blog lifetime on them. And lately blogs have been going strong for a while. 

                A challenge from Samuel Von Allen for you: give Animal Collective a listen. Take an album, any album. See what happens. Compare that to Samuel’s request. See how you do. For winners there will be a strong wave, a chill wave, pulling them. Knowledge can be greater than experience. Most of life revolves around that fact. Once the ratio inverts with more experience than knowledge that means you are getting old. 

                Summer music in the winter makes sunshine in the mind. You need that for the dark times. Close your eyes and think of beautiful summer days. Life is cyclical. It always returns, always comes back. For residents near the Arctic Circle, you got to move down, the weather’s fine. Scream in the mass of youth. That is what youth is about. Youth is a scream. 

                Get lost in this ultra-calming chapbook. Samuel does many things. Samuel makes you feel. Go to his Tumblr. Check him out. He makes macros that make you feel. Feel something. Feel great. Feel calm.

I WRITE AMBIGUOUSLY ABOUT SHIPS AND THE WATER by Samuel Von Allen

                Poetry saves lives. Millions of people each year rely on poetry. Think of poetry as a literal lifesaver. Memes are part of poetry. Why not? Ambitions with Memes can be a true reflection of one’s deeply held thoughts and dreams. When Memes are poetry you can have poetry anytime. Indeed Memes may be the pizza bagels of poetry. Don’t stop at one. Explore it. 

                Comfortable silences with others are rare. Knowing you don’t have to say a thing and it is fine is the best feeling of all. That’s when minds take over. Have a conversation with people. Let it lead into the part where everyone can stare at each other and know what they are going to say. No it is not predictability. This is something more than predictability. It is the ability to exist in others’ minds, pull up a chair, grab a pillow and gently fall asleep.

                Dead people sleep forever. Yet their sleep helps you out. Think of all the dead people did knowing their own mortality. It is amazing that despite mortality people are able to accomplish so much with life. Life lasts for such a short period of time. Those who appreciate that limited time are able to do something beautiful with it. YOLO is a lifestyle, not a choice. 

                Wait you can turn off the computer? Wonder when that happens. Feel seeing turned off computer is the saddest thing possible. People are online all the time. Connections last a blog lifetime on them. And lately blogs have been going strong for a while. 

                A challenge from Samuel Von Allen for you: give Animal Collective a listen. Take an album, any album. See what happens. Compare that to Samuel’s request. See how you do. For winners there will be a strong wave, a chill wave, pulling them. Knowledge can be greater than experience. Most of life revolves around that fact. Once the ratio inverts with more experience than knowledge that means you are getting old. 

                Summer music in the winter makes sunshine in the mind. You need that for the dark times. Close your eyes and think of beautiful summer days. Life is cyclical. It always returns, always comes back. For residents near the Arctic Circle, you got to move down, the weather’s fine. Scream in the mass of youth. That is what youth is about. Youth is a scream. 

                Get lost in this ultra-calming chapbook. Samuel does many things. Samuel makes you feel. Go to his Tumblr. Check him out. He makes macros that make you feel. Feel something. Feel great. Feel calm.

Reading my Chapbook

               Jacob Steinberg read his newest and greatest book tonight: Your Eyes saw my unformed limbs. On the cover was the picture of the saddest Golem I have ever seen. For those unaware of what Golems are, they are basically the precursors to Pokémon, those lovable creatures who will cherish your friendship forever. To follow up on this chapbook dedicated to golems, those ancient creatures, some random blogger may or may not decide to make a mini chapbook dedicated to those wonderful creatures. Among the titles thrown out there are “Pikachu: I choose you” and “The Electric Acid Pikachu Test”. Either way it could potentially change your life and all perceptions on the Pokémon lifestyle. Prepare yourselves if this comes to pass. 

                The reading started strong. Personally, I think Jacob has a great online presence. Reading his newest chapbook half-naked is usually a good way of attracting viewers. Even in the literary underground (above-ground) sex sells. That’s what happens. Due to his tactics he managed to sell one of his chapbooks to an interested overseas buyer. Of course you can go to his blog right here and snag one of them from the temporary Florida resident. 

                A few additional financial opportunities presented themselves. Jacob decided to take a page from the Golem playbook. In Golem culture, thousands of years ago, Golems used to hit on each other through the only way they could: through the exchange of underwear. Mr. Steinberg sold, or toyed with selling, his underwear to make ends meet (in more than one way). Chapbooks can’t pay the bills. Sometimes it takes a little bit more to bring in cash money. Sometimes it takes a blog to focus on underwear sales, to get all the gossip about alt lit writers. Of course you come here for that. 

                “This isn’t about Jon Ross it’s about art” received some sweet attention from Mr. Steinberg. His chapbook may or may not be reviewed at some point in the near future. Besides this Jacob became a boykitten, through his application of cat makeup onto his face. He did this in celebration of Kat Dixon’s greatness. 

                It ended with Jacob wishing us a fine night and becoming one with the boykitten internet movement through a complicated induction process.Welcome Jacob!

Reading my Chapbook

               Jacob Steinberg read his newest and greatest book tonight: Your Eyes saw my unformed limbs. On the cover was the picture of the saddest Golem I have ever seen. For those unaware of what Golems are, they are basically the precursors to Pokémon, those lovable creatures who will cherish your friendship forever. To follow up on this chapbook dedicated to golems, those ancient creatures, some random blogger may or may not decide to make a mini chapbook dedicated to those wonderful creatures. Among the titles thrown out there are “Pikachu: I choose you” and “The Electric Acid Pikachu Test”. Either way it could potentially change your life and all perceptions on the Pokémon lifestyle. Prepare yourselves if this comes to pass. 

                The reading started strong. Personally, I think Jacob has a great online presence. Reading his newest chapbook half-naked is usually a good way of attracting viewers. Even in the literary underground (above-ground) sex sells. That’s what happens. Due to his tactics he managed to sell one of his chapbooks to an interested overseas buyer. Of course you can go to his blog right here and snag one of them from the temporary Florida resident. 

                A few additional financial opportunities presented themselves. Jacob decided to take a page from the Golem playbook. In Golem culture, thousands of years ago, Golems used to hit on each other through the only way they could: through the exchange of underwear. Mr. Steinberg sold, or toyed with selling, his underwear to make ends meet (in more than one way). Chapbooks can’t pay the bills. Sometimes it takes a little bit more to bring in cash money. Sometimes it takes a blog to focus on underwear sales, to get all the gossip about alt lit writers. Of course you come here for that. 

                “This isn’t about Jon Ross it’s about art” received some sweet attention from Mr. Steinberg. His chapbook may or may not be reviewed at some point in the near future. Besides this Jacob became a boykitten, through his application of cat makeup onto his face. He did this in celebration of Kat Dixon’s greatness. 

                It ended with Jacob wishing us a fine night and becoming one with the boykitten internet movement through a complicated induction process.Welcome Jacob!

Neon Glittery’s New Chapbook
Glit is about to hit the fan. Prepare yourselves for this onslaught of Neon Glittery material. For on September 1st,  2011 your life will change forever. Bits and pieces of glitter will get  stuck in your head. Experimental poetry and design is coming to  decorate the inner most workings of your mind. Simply put, let it  happen. You can’t fight this glitter based life form. Accept it and  watch your life sparkle and shine with the power of billions of pieces  of decoration.
Neon  Glittery is a rare thing indeed: the first entirely glitter-based life  form. Born Elizabeth Ashley Arnold she eventually evolved into a higher  life form. For whatever reason, that happens to be glitter held together  by strong, artistically inclined neon molecules. Or something, I don’t  know, I’m not a scientist, I’m just a blogging sloth. This neon-glittery  creature creates some unique art so who am I to speculate about its  origins.
The chapbook is called “nEonsense”.  Neon has begun to create it with her sweet style. You’ll notice for the  teaser image (above) she uses the affectionate phrase “bb” meaning  “baby”. What I like about Neon’s work is the affection and attention to  aesthetics. Poetry by Neon includes a certain amount of particular  spacing or symbols. Obviously for this one she goes for the poem taking  up every possible inch to imply space. Usually people ignore  those margins. Neon hugs them, showing space to be part of the poem too.
Hype is  strong with this one. A basic “this is happening” post on Facebook  caught a couple of passers-by, including the head of the infinitely  prestigious “Hot-Lit Gossip” blog, a world famous chair, and Steve  Roggenbuck. I saw it too and freaked out. Finally the rumors from  twitter that Neon sent herself were finally confirmed on the infinitely  believable Facebook. Over 98 comments for a single photo (the one you  see above you) only confirm this rabid neon-based fan base.
What do you  get along with your book of poetry? As Neon’s work is extremely visual,  you can pay the $9 for epic bright pages and wordscapes (is wordscapes a  word? Do I care if it isn’t?). The bonuses are pretty damn excellent.  For $2 extra dollars (that’s $11 for the mathematically challenged  poetry fans) you get a bird print and surprise watercolors. Neon often  lives off of eating the prints of her bird pictures (see here)  so that’s a steal. Her deluxe package includes a mix tape of her music,  which is similar to her visual output: bright, shiny, and emotionally  charged. You’d be a fool not to get the plush $13 mix tape deal. I live  in music though so keep that in mind. Besides, you get your own  personalized item. Already some famous net-citizens have ‘liked’ her offering.
You can taste the relevancy. With Neon Glittery, if you like relevancy, try her!

Neon Glittery’s New Chapbook

Glit is about to hit the fan. Prepare yourselves for this onslaught of Neon Glittery material. For on September 1st, 2011 your life will change forever. Bits and pieces of glitter will get stuck in your head. Experimental poetry and design is coming to decorate the inner most workings of your mind. Simply put, let it happen. You can’t fight this glitter based life form. Accept it and watch your life sparkle and shine with the power of billions of pieces of decoration.

Neon Glittery is a rare thing indeed: the first entirely glitter-based life form. Born Elizabeth Ashley Arnold she eventually evolved into a higher life form. For whatever reason, that happens to be glitter held together by strong, artistically inclined neon molecules. Or something, I don’t know, I’m not a scientist, I’m just a blogging sloth. This neon-glittery creature creates some unique art so who am I to speculate about its origins.

The chapbook is called “nEonsense”. Neon has begun to create it with her sweet style. You’ll notice for the teaser image (above) she uses the affectionate phrase “bb” meaning “baby”. What I like about Neon’s work is the affection and attention to aesthetics. Poetry by Neon includes a certain amount of particular spacing or symbols. Obviously for this one she goes for the poem taking up every possible inch to imply space. Usually people ignore those margins. Neon hugs them, showing space to be part of the poem too.

Hype is strong with this one. A basic “this is happening” post on Facebook caught a couple of passers-by, including the head of the infinitely prestigious “Hot-Lit Gossip” blog, a world famous chair, and Steve Roggenbuck. I saw it too and freaked out. Finally the rumors from twitter that Neon sent herself were finally confirmed on the infinitely believable Facebook. Over 98 comments for a single photo (the one you see above you) only confirm this rabid neon-based fan base.

What do you get along with your book of poetry? As Neon’s work is extremely visual, you can pay the $9 for epic bright pages and wordscapes (is wordscapes a word? Do I care if it isn’t?). The bonuses are pretty damn excellent. For $2 extra dollars (that’s $11 for the mathematically challenged poetry fans) you get a bird print and surprise watercolors. Neon often lives off of eating the prints of her bird pictures (see here) so that’s a steal. Her deluxe package includes a mix tape of her music, which is similar to her visual output: bright, shiny, and emotionally charged. You’d be a fool not to get the plush $13 mix tape deal. I live in music though so keep that in mind. Besides, you get your own personalized item. Already some famous net-citizens have ‘liked’ her offering.

You can taste the relevancy. With Neon Glittery, if you like relevancy, try her!