Thursday, September 01, 2005

J.D. Salinger: Wake up bitch! you're my new best friend

I roll out of bed and tell JD that I know the original post was shit, "but, i'm already in bed, man, can't it go until morning."

"No," JD's imaginary voice says to me in a raspy, smokey, God-like voice, "and it is morning...well, the only part of it you know, anyways. Get up. Fix this."

So, here I am, typing this bitch out. again.

A friend lent me her stolen, library copy of JD Salinger's "Franny and Zooey" (and I'm pronouncing Zooey like "zoey" in my head, not 'zewey' whether you or JD himself likes it or not). Anways, I started it Monday and finished it today.

Halfway through, I thought I understood. Twenty pages from the end, I questioned my very existence. Not saying that Salinger is god, but he's definately forcing me to re-think "god."

At first, it's about a 1950s dysfunctional, well-to-do family; a generational breakdown between a high-pitched, twitchy mom, her two "artsy" kids (F & Z), and lingering ghosts of older siblings. Seperation gaps.

The root: every desire and dream and ambition is rooted in an egotistical need to be greedy. Education, religion, society - everything is nothing but a life-long ego trip.

Yet, I'm up re-writing this post. It is what it is, i guess. But it was crap when I went to bed at midnight:thirty and now it's 2:30 and I'm still not sure it's any better. But, here I am, attempting to self-perfect. And maybe it is some cliched, freudian thing whereIi need to feel as if my writing can hold its own in bed with a sex-kitten. Maybe it's the only way I can speak without so much self-censorship and manage to sneak my way into bed with said sex-kitten. Or maybe, I just wanted it to be good enough for myself and God.

Questions and questions. Too many. That's the point of good fiction. It makes you think.

"Why did the chicken cross the road," I ask JD.

"What was on the other side," he asks back.

(prick)

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

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3:02 PM  

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