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Lists, Love, Learning, Language & Longing

Hello Friends,

It is the end of the year of too many twos. How to describe it? Terrible and tender? Triumphant and toxic? Tragic, tortured, terrific, and transcendent? I plan to shoot twenty-two .22 rounds in salute the moment I hit send on this email. We’re falling all over ourselves in an attempt to do what? Gratify? We lose as much as we gain re: everything, but mostly when it comes to the internet. And when I say the internet, I mean The Internet and the website through which I prefer to absorb it: Twitter, yet again under threat of having its plug pulled due to the usual.

I send one of these when I publish something, and this is no exception: the talented Rob Kaniuk included my poem, Major Perk, in his final Schuylkill Valley Journal transmission. Alongside some great writers, Aaron Burch and one of my oldest friends, Bill Whitten among them. Rob is up to something new, and I’m doing my best to contribute. Hit me up if you have any interesting writing proposals or ideas. Major Perk was also included in SVJ’s latest print issue, and it feels so good to turn the pages. Get some.

Forever Mag gave me a two-page spread (!?) in their epic fourth issue. They usually sell out, so hop to it. It’s available at select bookstores as well. The issue release party was one for the history books, and I’m stoked they exist to inject life into our ancient art form.

Harpy Hybrid Journal published my apologies and a short interview about methods. I touch briefly on my fav Zen master, Ikkyu, which prompted the sharing of a fantastic paper on the old master by the inimitable @BodhiDave. More on that below.

Lastly, at the wise suggestion of J. Mae Barizo, I applied and was accepted into Bennington College’s creative writing program. Giant shout out to J. Mae’s writing and music (we met when she played on one of Justin’s Silent League records), her endorsement went a long way (in both directions), and I’m super grateful. Applying to schools was a giant, shame-filled whirlwind, and she was invaluable during the home stretch. Starting Tuesday, I’m going to spend the next few years pursuing a degree and enlisting the program’s army of talent to help corral my novel, poetry collection, album, and videos into some sort of releasable shape.

As always, write back and tell me what you’re up to. I’m starting to think Substack exists for us to recommend cool shit to each other. Maybe it’s the big brother in me, but it’s something I genuinely love to do. See below.

Love & respect,

Jason aka

retsoor

Amazing things:

Janelle Greco’s short stories. I saw Janelle read in Brooklyn last month and it brought the house down, she’s working on a fantastic collection of stories that do for her hometown what I’d like to do for Poughkeepsie. 10/10.

Amen Dunes: L.A. I’ve been thinking a lot about the era of Brooklyn that spawned this record, it’s a great time capsule. My favorite living drummer, Parker Kindred, adds a classy vibe to this track. I recommend anything he plays on.

Bill Whitten - Brutes. Bill—one of my oldest and dearest friends—is in possession of an enormous and unpredictable intellect/talent. We’re currently working on an interview/memoir-esque piece with Rob Kaniuk, but in the meantime, buy his first book, Brutes. Bonus, Parker, the fav living drummer mentioned above, is on the cover. The adventures the three of us have had could fill a few more books and probably will.

Deradoorian: Angel Deradoorian makes incredible music, sometimes with her sister Arlene and brother Aram. I don’t remember why the siblings’ first names all start with A (my brothers and I are all named with a J to honor Jesus), but I bet it’s a good reason, their father is a saxophonist. I recommend you see them live sometime and/or just give a listen. Angel has recently been up here in central New York and, I suspect, working on something new.

Tee Pee Records Staff Picks: every year my coworkers and I put together a playlist of doom, proto-metal, hard rock, stoner rock, and psychedelic kraut/prog rock designed to enlighten the army of denim-vested heshers that follow the label. Put it on next time you use the word “party” as a verb.

Bud Smith: I sat in on a bunch of Bud’s recent writing seminars and they were transformative. I’m never happier than when discussing art with exciting people, and these were held in person, late at night, in Bud and Rae’s living room. I highly recommend you look into taking one of his 9-week seminars and buy Teenager, his latest novel. It will change your game. I sketched this action teaching portrait during his last lecture:

Blake Mills: It’ll All Work Out. I first became aware of Blake on Twitter, but an algorithm served this up to me, and it took my obsessively hitting repeat before I made the connection. 10/10

Aaron Belz: Aaron edited most of my poems this year, and he’s an invaluable friend and collaborator. Listen to a demo of Mersey Street, a poem of his we’re setting to music. Final version TBA.

Mastodon. Each new platform is a new opportunity. I’ve been painstakingly transferring all my favorite tweets to this account in the event of Twitter’s demise. Follow me!

Tik Toc: there’s this annoying app that insists you make videos of yourself, but you don’t have to. You can post screenshots of tweets instead, as another way to preserve fav Twitter moments, just in case.

Tollswitch: the creators of the old-school radio program/podcast Tollswitch asked me to score parts of recent episodes. They seemed happier the weirder the shit I sent to them got, making them braver than most and highly recommended.

Ikkyu: as mentioned, Twitter-now-Mastodon’s resident Zen scholar shared his easily read and thoroughly comprehensive paper on Ikkyu, the erratic, irreverent Zen monk known to wish birdshit on the Buddha. Look into his life and work, as well as @BodhiDave’s, you will feel it, trust me.

Can’t sleep? Check out the podcast This Jungian Life. Three Jungian analysts interpret listener dreams. Their voices are comically soothing, SNL skit worthy, and the content is endlessly fascinating.

The last words of D.T Suzuki: “Don't worry. Thank you, thank you.”