i asked brent what he wanted for xmas. you know brent (palimpsest), he's the one who told me what the symbol of the snake eating it's own tail was called, which i referenced in my thing on David Foster Wallace. i guess it's the least i owe him, right? maybe not. anyway, i took him at his word or on his word or whatever the expression is (i'm on wellbutrin now and it fucks with things a bit. i've now forgotten major events, like getting thrown out of bars and stuff, things that i should be able to remember, and people tell me about them, you know, other people who participated in these events and i just shake my head yes. yes, i remember, and i don't. people might even be fucking with me, i don't know. so you certainly can't expect me to remember a little thing like how a fucking phrase goes. i'll be writing from now on as if english is not my first language, ok?) and i wrote some crap, but i wasn't interested in doing an e-rupture like the other ones, which were a mix of magazine type articles and reviews and fiction. i made this one all fiction. i think it was partially laziness on my part. writing something factual takes research, writing reviews means participating in popular culture, and i just wasn't up to either. i've been reading alot of books lately, but people don't want to hear about that stuff, do they. i can't listen to music at all, and i haven't been to any shows. i'm just sitting around petting the cats. so, brent, this is yours, do with it what you will. i would have gotten you a freddy the pig first edition, but you asked for this, foolish little boy. happy xmas.
xoxo, melpomene
oh, you can email me at melpomenex@aol.com
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