Tuesday, April 27, 2004

If you visit the various bookstores at UCLA often enough -- in particular, the small law-school/film-school/snack shop near the building in which Philosophy is housed -- you'll find the prices on various remainders going down. And down. What makes it to this little hole from the sale tables in the central commerce center of the school -- also the home of the largest Clinique selection in So. Cal., I'm told -- we're down to Island of Broken Toys levels of unsaleability. Hence today's score of:

($1 each)
Cecilia Vicuna, Cloud-Net (heavily illustrated poems/performance documentation)
Nayland Blake/Dennis Cooper Jerk (one of that Artspace photog + fiction series, list $15)
Kenneth Goldsmith Soliloquy (every word he spoke for a week in 1996)

($2 each)
A.D. Coleman The Digital Evolution (photo criticism)
Alexander Doty Flaming Classics: Queering the Film Canon

Most a bit worse for wear, but still. The Goldsmith, in particular, is the sort of thing I'd pass up for even $6 (and have, since it's been on the same shelf at that price for months), because, what, I'm going to read it?, but for a buck, it at least should have a home. So I'm glad to have these, but what cuts: Is it really true that I'm the only person at this huge university who wants them, even for a dollar? (Note also, UCLA's huge "Festival of Books," co-sponsored by the Times and Target and what have you, was also this weekend -- many of the tents are still up. Since I can park for free, I'd had some thought of hearing Fanny Howe on Saturday, in "Poet's Corner" -- all of the other reading venues are called "Stages," but the poets get a "Corner," as though already literally deceased -- but work, and the undesirability of the drive, intruded.)


Quick-like. Smell show a little better than I'd hoped, though already one person has told me they tried to come but were unable to negotiate traffic redirected b/c of early Cinco de Mayo events. I'm afraid I don't have a cogent assessment of Eileen Talios' poetry, as I was distracted by trying to remember the lyrics to my songs. (Of course, the flyer read, "Music (by a poet)" in my case, so in this instance, I guess a music stand wouldn't have been too out-of-place") But I traded Cat/Queen for her Reproductions of the Empty Flagpole, so I should be able to get a better grip -- there was one poem inspired by Richard Tuttle, which is cooler because it probably wasn't written just because Steve Malkmus mentioned him. Gong music (not gamelan but the Filipino equivalent?) backing her was lovely. I played acceptably, except for dicking up the last verse to Peter Blegvad's "Special Delivery."

Plan to back The Stranger arts ed/Harvey Danger/Long Winters member Sean Nelson on 3 Harry Nillson tunes (from his upcoming Nelson Sings Nillson, not joking) on Monday fell through -- some sort of oddball cabaret night at Tangiers on Hillhurst, plus some huge mp3s didn't get to my box in time. Too bad: Musically, I get as much satisfaction out of these random session-cat moments as anything else. Isn't there a Dave Frischberg song, "I Wanna Be a Sideman."

ok -- now I have to promise future posts on Bas Jan Ader, Battle Hymn of the Republic (that is, standing for it), and Mervyn LeRoy's Latin Lovers (1953).

And it cheeses me off that John Kerry has to hide the fact that his French is excellent on the campaign trail.

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