1. I haven't reminded you recently to check out Ken Kesey's site. You really should, because Kesey is a vibrant and original thinker with a great sense of humor, and he's also got a good official site, run by his son Zane Kesey. And you especially should visit now, because Ken and Zane and Neal Cassady's son John Cassady and a bunch of others just drove "the bus" (or some reasonable facsimile thereof) to Cleveland for a ceremony at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. John and his girlfriend Pat and her brother Dan tell me they had an amazing time, and I'm really jealous because I should've gone but I just stayed at home. Oh well ... we can all enjoy it vicariously.
2. Check out Mouth Almighty, an experimental record company, created in conjunction with Mercury Records, and dedicated to the art of spoken word poetry. This is partly the work of Bob Holman, who may be downtown New York's most important poetry cheerleader now that Allen Ginsberg is dead. But the poetry spirit is still alive like crazy around New York -- there's the Nuyoricans and Tribes and the St. Mark's Poetry Project, and over in Brooklyn is McLean Greaves' gorgeous Cafe Los Negroes. Speaking of Brooklyn (and speaking of Ginsberg), I was at Brooklyn College last week for a memorial to Ginsberg, who was a professor there until the time of his death. Here's what I read.
3. I've recently exchanged a few emails with a fascinating survivor of the Beat and post-Beat 1960's and 70's, Charles Plymell. His 1971 book "The Last of the Mocassins" has just been republished, and you can also experience his honest and fresh voice at the site above, along with many photos and interesting asides.
4. The New Yorker wrote a really nice review of the Literary Kicks Neal's Denver section in the May 19th issue. But do they publish my short stories? Fuck no. Speaking of short stories ... some of my more somber friends consider this beneath contempt, but I've been listening to Phish a lot lately. A real lot. What this has to do with short stories is that their bassist Mike Gordon just published a book of his own stories, which he'd been writing for the Phish zine Doniac Schvice. And the stories are excellent! Just to give you an idea what Mike Gordon's strange prose sounds like, here's the first paragraph of the first story in the book: "As far as tykes go, Johnald was a wee bit irregular. For one thing, he had an amrope coming out of his head. You may be wondering, 'What is an amrope?' I won't piss on you for wondering that. Actually it's like an antenna, but it's got some mold on it. It's not something you buy at a store; maybe you do buy it in a store."
Weird. Kind of like ... like Richard Brautigan meets Tickle-me-Elmo. It works for me.