[lit-ideas] Re: Murder by Membership

I used to b a frequent visitor to a chat room on AOL called the Book Shelf.
It seemed to experience a sort of cylical life.  People deeply invested in
Literature would find it, lurk for a bit, begin to inject bits and pieces of
dialogue re. what they were reading which others jumped on.  These fellow
lit-lovers grew a lovely home of good converse, only occasionally maddened
by a chat-room variant of spammers -- those who "entered" the chat room only
to try to get credit card numbers, sell something, curse and rant and rave
in some sort of drug-induced abberation, or (and these were my favourites)
home-work help seekers (example:  Can eny1 tell me what Tom Sawyer is
about?; does eny1 have an essay on the meaning of the Scarlet Letter in
what's that book called?; can somebody tell me what a verb is? (A charming
grammar stickler by the name of Verbqueen always could and seldom would).
It got so laughable that the "regulars" started throwing out a few
variations on responses -- "Will that be cash or charge?"  "Go away little
boy and come back when you learn to read"  "I'll be happy to tell you the
role that the Scarlet Letter played in Tom Sawyer" .... There was a sort of
Book Shelf short-hand and these homework-seekers had a term reserved just
for them but after a decade I can no longer recall what it was.  The chat
room was regularly visited by:  a Mexican PI from CA who specialized in
insurance fraud and knew way too much about comparative religion and
philosophy -- his mask was that of semi-lecher; a New Jersey woman with an
MA in social work who was staying home to parent her sons and took genuine
joy in ironing tablecloths and had read more books than I can imagine; a gal
working on her graduate degree in Victorian Literature; a profoundly
disturbed (probably sociopath, psychopath, certifiably insane and
semi-brilliant) guy/gal who loved to gender change and name change by the
day, hour, or week, but wrote heart-breakingly beautiful poetry; a
psychiatrist from Seattle who could put most of my philo prof's to shame in
sheer knowledge of philo; seekers, wanderers, crazies, know-it-alls, we
settled in as friends who knew one another and had the sort of short hand
that a group develops.  I learned so much there -- so much about philosophy,
literature, recipes, growing orchids, languages, semantics, and the primary
group of people who found respite in this virtual reality were intelligent,
well educated, insomniacs, with incredible wit.  We shared movies, music,
books, argued religion and politics, got a bit off-colour, complained and
sought advice about children and spouses and bosses and employees and
teachers and students.  We stumbled into putting on plays of sorts ... each
participant taking on a role of his/her own making.  There were virtual
swordplays and hobbit spoofs and ...  Wolfgang Puck was among us with
awesome cullinary advice!   I laughed until tears came more often than I can
count.  My children, then little ones, used to say in a semi-tolerant,
semi-puzzled way, "Mommy's laughing at her computer again".  I "stayed"
there for several years, visiting more or less frequently depending on
life's vagaries.  I e-mailed friends from that group outside of the chat
room, did instant messaging with some while in and out of the chat room, had
phone conversations with a few, met a few in "real" life, and still am in
touch with a very few.

I, uh, digress.

For all that long time that I popped in and out of that "place" there was a
cycle -- endless long wonderful conversations, a less "book" oriented
trajectory over the days or weeks, people "coming in" asking "so what's
everyone reading?" only to be met by guffaws and assertions that the "Book
Shelf" was just a front for (insert endless wild scenarios here), assertions
of illiteracy.  People got tired of the same conversations over and over.
But they stayed, and lurked if nothing else.  Then someone new would come in
and mix things up a bit and people started off in a new trajectory and ...
well, so it went.  People talked serious literature until they were sick of
being serious and then laughed until they were laughed out and there was no
longer any even remote reference to literature, and then were bored with the
whole thing until the next wave.    I'm using WAY too many words to say what
I'm not even sure I'm trying to say...  but that, after all, is one of the
perks to this list.  We all get a chance to be brilliant, witty, wonderful,
silly, creative, stupid, bored, annoying, angry.  And that's a pretty good
thing.

Julie Krueger
neither explaining nor complaining, only babbling

On 6/4/08, Lawrence Helm <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
>
>  Sometimes I do things without realizing it – not inadvertent puns, I
> usually notice those and laugh even when the person doesn't know what he or
> she has said and looks at me strangely as though I might be intending some
> abuse or questioning some fact.  I write so much I don't imagine these
> inadvertent actions qualify as Freudian, although they might, I never really
> thought of it before.  Which brings me to asserting that I didn't realize I
> was "questioning the 'facts'" of Paul's "explanation."
>
>
>
> In my own chronology, or by way of setting the stage, perhaps as Paul
> himself did in the note I leave appended, I have been semi-depressed over
> the predicaments of some friends and relatives.  Here I am comfortably
> retired, or so I thought, but it turns out my retirement income exceeds that
> of the aforementioned friends and relatives who don't feel badly about
> receiving aid from my poor, old, kindly self who is living on a fixed
> income.  And I discovered "fixed income" is misleading.  That oft-used
> expression implies semi-impoverishment; which isn't what I'm in, but which,
> if the aforementioned relatives and friends keep their aforementioned hands
> out, isn't beyond my reach.  Which caused me or inspired me or shamed me
> into dusting off some of my old novels and sending them off to prospective
> agents – only to be treated more insultingly than Paul has been treated by
> Irene and me – although I didn't know I was doing that; which I shall get to
> soon enough.
>
>
>
> Paul describes himself as reading the Lit-Ideas notes but not being
> inspired or energetic or free enough to respond.  That hasn't been my case.
> I will look at titles and *try *to read the notes but my mind won't focus
> – sort of like Irene trying to read Trollope after the fall of the twin
> towers.  But I did manage to read Paul's note.  It didn't immediately
> inspire me to write a response – not at all.  I went downstairs for coffee
> and later pulled some weeds and trimmed some roses and cleaned the ears of
> my dog, Sage, who has some sort of allergy.  I don't recall when it
> happened, perhaps later after it had cooled off and I was walking the dogs,
> but some of his explanations popped into my mind.  And here I get to the
> inadvertence: a question about the nature of literature on Lit-Ideas began
> to intrigue me.
>
>
>
> Unfortunately for the semi-depressed , if that is what he is, Paul, I
> voiced my questions in the form of a response to him, but I was not really
> interested in him at that point, let alone intentionally questioning his
> facts, and I'm not sure what he means by that, but no matter, and I am not
> hinting that I wish him to reply, for I don't.  I am content to leave him as
> quiescent as he wishes.   I should probably have been more third-personish:
> what is literature and what are writers that thou should be mindful of
> them.  But as agents like to say, one should stick to first and second
> persons: what shall I or you write here that shall be literature – and, what
> shall you and I write *about *here that shall be called literature.
>
>
>
> And so it seemed to him, but still not to me, that I was questioning his
> facts, whatever they are, which still isn't clear to me – that sort of
> inadvertence – that sort of doing things without realizing what I am doing.
> And so the strange men in pork-pie hats come to accuse me, and my protests
> aren't believed.  They have their orders and plan to carry them out.
>
>
>
> Well, there.  I am less depressed than I was before I began this note, even
> though, if Paul reads this entire note he shall more than likely be moreso;
> which I didn't intend inasmuch as I'm in a pacifistic mood, not wishing harm
> to anyone, but may still be guilty of being subject to the aforementioned
> inadvertence.   And as a consequence keeping a rusty sword on my desk and a
> weather eye on the men in the porkpie hats.
>
>
>
> I recall here that I tend toward obtuseness when I enter one of my
> pacifistic moods, but it can't be helped.
>
>
>
> Lawrence Helm
>
> San Jacinto
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: lit-ideas-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:
> lit-ideas-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On Behalf Of Paul Stone
> Sent: Wednesday, June 04, 2008 9:07 AM
> To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
> Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: Murder by Membership
>
>
>
> Okay, you guys keep prodding -- Mike trying [and generally succeeding]
>
> to be funny, Lawrence questioning the 'facts' of my explanation, David
>
> being the angry poetic young man (yes, that's flattery), and Irene,
>
> well, he's just herself.
>
>
>
>
>
> >AA: I agree with Lawrence that movies are a very reasonable facsimile of
> great
>
> > books as well as literary in their own right.  I've suggested several
> movies
>
> > and except for Rent that Lawrence watched, there's been no interest and
> no
>
> > response.
>
>
>
> Perhaps, next time you suggest a movie, you might watch it [all] first.
>
>
>
> > Sometimes I think the antidote to this godforsaken 21st century
>
> > is literature, is an escape into another time, but I can't seem to manage
>
> > it.  Can't seem even to write the mini essays of phil lit days on varied
> and
>
> > sundry topics.
>
>
>
> I still write essays all the time, but I just don't bother writing
>
> them specifically FOR this group anymore. Here's the genesis of THAT
>
> decision:
>
>
>
> 1997:
>
>
>
> Read thoughtful essay
>
> Fashion similar (approximately 1 - 2 hours)
>
> Read measured response
>
> Reply
>
> End
>
>
>
> 2007:
>
>
>
> Read sentence-long ejaculation about something that sparks my interest
>
> Fashion response in short essay (approximately 1 - 2 hours)
>
> Watch as someone makes a joke about a a word I used.
>
> Subject-heading changes and the thread is dead.
>
> No further feedback on my original essay
>
>
>
> People's attention spans are generally getting shorter because they
>
> simply can't afford to spend as much time fielding email -- since they
>
> now have so much more than they did 10 years ago. I understand that. I
>
> really do. But at the same time, my output has been dampened because i
>
> simply don't want to waste time doing it and falling on blind eyes or
>
> deaf ears.
>
>
>
> For a time I vowed to write book reviews as often as possible and I
>
> did that for quite a few months. But it simply got too strenuous for
>
> what I was getting back (pretty much nada). I like doing things for
>
> people and it is gratifying when I can please others by doing a good
>
> deed or making other people's days easier. But, like any selfish
>
> bastard, I'm reciprocal altruist. I need something back too, but those
>
> incidences are getting further and further apart. I'm just not getting
>
> the bang that I used to.
>
>
>
> I've had conversations off-list with friend and foe and almost without
>
> exception people were/are very personable and sober in those cases. I
>
> thank anyone/everyone who ever contacted me. And even though I've only
>
> ever actually met two members and talked with a couple of others on
>
> the phone, I feel like I know a little part of quite a few of you
>
> folk. I think I would miss that if I stopped completely.
>
>
>
>  Nowadays, I get virtually nothing back from any conversation I have
>
> except for people calling me crazy, stupid, and purposely fucking with
>
> my mind (ignorantly in most cases).
>
>
>
> So... as I stated a few weeks back, I just have other priorities that
>
> are more important than sidling up to the familiar bar. Even though I
>
> still get some joy from reading those I like, some enlightenment from
>
> those who I respect and even some laughter from those who I don't
>
> agree with, it's just not in the cards right now to fully contribute.
>
> I will remain, lurking and chime in from time to time, but I'm just
>
> not very writative right now.
>
>
>
> quietly,
>
> p
>

Other related posts: