Oeuvre or Hors d'Oeuvre?

first edition cover (1977)

Do you have an oeuvre or hors d’oeuvre, derived literally from “out of the work?” For instance, you might talk of Balzac’s voluminous oeuvre, but what about his hors d’oeuvre? Joyce Carol Oates is known for being prolific, if nothing else. No sooner has she released a new tome than you're batted over the head with a poem in The New Yorker ("This is Not a Poem" was the most recent) or essay in The New York Review of Books. Where does she get the time? Does she write in her sleep and being a prehensile creature is she able to write with her feet as well as her hands? Oh don’t forget until being found out back in l987, she wrote under the pseudonyms Rosamond Smith and Lauren Kelly. Last count she had only published 58 novels, which unfortunately falls behind Stephen King at 62.  What would these authors hors d’oeuvres be like. Pigs in a blanket—as there is a certainly gluttony in their productivity—though some might write the author of The Shining, The Stand and Carrie a blank check. Words are fun and like liquor or drugs, you have those who suffer from logorrhea and become addicted to them. Are there writers who go to silent retreats where they forswear both talking and penmanship? But speaking of locutions you have the institution of the nom de plume. For instance it’s Georges Sand aka Amantine Lucille Aurore Dupin. Is Francine Prose a nom de plum? The well-known novelist’s name sure sounds like one. 

Read "The Wormhole Society" by Francis Levy, The East Hampton Star

Was Hitler An Asshole?

 Adolf the Asshole

Was Hitler an asshole say the way Trump is? Trump is just an asshole. Product of historical forces, Hegels's world historical figure, blah blah. Numerous post-mortems will be performed in which Mary Trump and others will provide analysis of his psyche, but asshole is just a better a more global word to describe him. Hitler similarly is and was the subject of all manner of analysis by the OSS (who produced psychohistories of their opponents). However, forget about whether he was a failed artist, or had a relationship with his half-niece Geil Raubal, who was l9 years his junior, that ended in her suicide. Trump’s hardline aid Stephen Miller is almost a computer printout of the kind of bloviating idiot whose talents are effectively deployed by autocrats. When and if Trump departs the earth Miller will surely find employment in Poland, Brazil or Hungry. Tyrants like Jair Bolsanaro are attracted to mechanized personalities who think nothing of the suffering they cause. Hannah Arendt coined the term “banality of evil” to describe Eichmann, but "asshole" is a short emotive term which is a better description of this type of murderous tyrant. Dickhead, doofus or dingbat are also excellent descriptions which are not really pejorative considering the target. In fact they're kind since there are worse things that can be said about Hitler or any of his pals. Great minds may think alike, but toxic mentalities all stink in their own ways. Hitler does, of course, occupy a particular subset due his Napoleonic height. He’s a short asshole. Short assholes happen to be particularly dangerous to the extent that they have a lifelong need to compensate for their size. Putin and Roy Cohn are both examples of short assholes. Both Hitler and Trump have signature hairdo's--Trump's, the blow dry used car salesman and Hitler, the pageboy. Would they have used the same hairdresser if they'd been contemporaries? Most people with moral values wouldn’t subscribe to the notion of ganging up on anyone, but imagine Trump, Stephen Miller, Jair Bolsanaro, Viktor Orban and Bashar al-Assad brought before something a Truth and Reconciliation Commission like the one's the South Africans created after Apartheid. In the meanwhile, pray that representative Jim Jordan and Senators Ron Johnson and Ted Cruz cab be sent to a rehab for jerks. Maybe if Trump goes to jail, someone will make him their bitch. It's hard to talk with something in your mouth. Oh yeah, let's not leave out that fat pig, Kim Jong-un who Trump once praised as "very talented."

Read Mark Snyder's review of Francis Levy's Seven Days in Rio in The Collagist

Dear Ethicist: Unsung Genius

Dear Ethicist: I have been waiting around for recognition, without luck as yet. Other people get their names in lights who aren’t as good me. I don’t know why. It’s not fair. All these years I have been doing the solitary work I hope would get my genius realized. Silence is the only response I receive. The cosmos is yawning as I scream and wave my hands for attention. Feeling my situation is hopeless, I have dreamt up some desperate attempts to get attention. The first is to order 12 rotisserie chickens from my local Food Emporium and have them delivered to one of these arbiters of taste who reject me. Another is inspired by the Spanish surrealist director Luis Bunuel. I attend a conference and put Crazy Glue on the seats in the auditorium where all the events are held. When the attendees get up, they'll find that they're stuck, at which point I will pull the fire alarm. Naturally, all those in my field who have been ignoring me, will rip their pants in a particularly embarrassing place, the seat. By the seat of their pants. Get it? There will be alarums and I will jump for joy watching the whole chaotic scene on the monitor of the security system.

Unhung Genius

 

 

Dear Unhung Genius: You had me up until you sent the chickens. I know you’re just trying to call attention to yourself by being annoying and provocative, but it’s a lame move, particularly if the recipient of your “largesse” is a chicken lover. Exterminating Angels (1962) is one of my favorite Bunuel films, but you have to realize that people don’t like being the butt of a joke. Take an elevator to a high floor of the building in which the conference is being held and drop balloons filled with water on the heads of those who've ignored you is a more effective way of demonstrating your frustration.

Read review of Francis Levy's Seven Days in Rio, Dan's Papers

 

 

Journal of Medieval Scholasticism: How Many Angels Can Dance On the Head of a Pin?

Indeed, “how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?” Why not go back to the source, the question which defines the very essence of medieval scholasticism, i.e the pursuit of issues that have absolutely no relevance for mankind? Buridan’s Donkey is also often mentioned in this connection since it concerns another ridiculous problem that of the animal which dies since it can’t decide between hay and water, hunger and thirst. Suppose that an angel is the size of a muon, the fat electron which has been in the news lately since its peculiar behavior may open up a whole new paradigm in physics. The head of a pin is approximately 100,000^th of an inch. It has been estimated that 6 trillion photons would fit on the head of a pin but photons which have no mass take up less space then muons which are 200 times heavier than electrons. Those have a mass of 9.1093837015(28)×10−31 kg. No one knows whether angels exist, but if they do, their size is up for grabs. If John Duns Scotus, the scholastic famous for his thinking on “the univocity of being,” were alive, he would have to deal with the difficulty of trying to calculate the mass of a spiritual presence that may not exist. Of course, once that problem is solved then it would be smooth sailing. If say it’s determined that an angel’s size rounds off to l0-62kg, then your answer could be figured out on a simple slide ruler or even abacus. What kind of dance the angels are doing is another matter. It's common knowledge that angels favor ballroom dancing whether it’s the tango, the indy or fox trot when they’re not coming down from the heavens to shine their light on troubled but worthy souls like George Bailey of It's a Wonderful Life. Some angels have even been known to take lessons at Arthur Murray's Dance Studios.

Read review of Erotomania: A Romance by Francis Levy, Bookslut

 

The Ethicist: Eleemosynary

Dear Ethicist, I have an end-of-life problem. I've always been a generous guy. I actually like helping people because it makes me feel like a big shot. I also feel it opens doors. However, lately as I begin to plan for my retirement, I'm realizing it makes no sense to be so generous. I’ve already lived my life and nothing's going to come of so-called targeted philanthropy which is aimed at giving to the charities of people who can do something for me. Perhaps I should  think of other ways of spending the little time I have left. I could use the dough. I could stay in super luxury hotels and have suites instead of single rooms. I could eat in the finest restaurants and buy myself a Lamborghini or Tesla. I have developed an equation in my head which shows how the amount of money you give away is inversely proportional to the amount time you have left on earth. What do you think of this calculation?

Eleemosynary 

 

 

Dear Eleemosynary: You sound very calculating. What happened to the idea of giving freely? I’m sure a lot of the charities and people you donated time and money to over the years would be saddened to learn of your ulterior motives. I can see if you had come to the end and the doctor says you don’t have much time left how you might at least feel selfish, but I'm being charitable in calling you a jerk. Actually you’re behaving like a real asshole.

Read "An Incident of Defenestration" by Francis Levy, 

Vol. 1 Brooklyn

 

W.D. Hamilton on Donald J. Trump

Epigenetics is what might be called a post-modermist approach to genetics, which doesn't change a genetic code, but modifies the way a gene acts. Environment can have an epigenetic impact—a finding that has enormous implications in the world of developmental psychology. Ultimately, it turns out, talk therapy may have a biological effect on the patient. CRISPR or “clustered integrated short palindromic repeats” is one of the methodologies used in gene therapy. The question is, can the science of epigenetics permanently introduce an altruistic element in the 73 million members of Trump’s base? The sociobiologist W.D. Hamilton even created a rule which he expressed in the following equation: C < r x B, where the cost to the recipient is less than relatedness times fitness. In short, the idea is that altruistic behavior is naturally selective. If the Trumps want to create a dynasty they will have to suppress their own selfish desires. The only problem is that selfishness is the family brand and what makes Retrumplicanism so popular. For the genetic material to prevail, the Trumps would have to stop being who they are.

Read "Dream Hoarders" by Francis Levy, Huffington Post

Is Cash Still King?

ATM

The sign outside a local diner reads “No Credit Cards! Cash Only!” "Cash is king" goes the old saw and that doesn’t include cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin. These signs should also read no derivatives, no credit default swaps, no collateralized debt obligations. You can’t pay for your hamburger deluxe with an option even if it’s for Berkshire Hathaway. You might tell the owner of the Apollo or the Dionysius to stop being a Cassandra and get with the program, but there’s something to be said for hard unleveraged cash. Does anyone still have any traveler’s checks left from the days when you bought them at American Express. Would they be considered cash? The answer is yes twenty years ago, but it’s unclear what traveler’s checks are still good today. If they were issued by Washington Mutual, one of the major banks that became insolvent in the sup-prime mortgage crisis, you’re probably out of luck. One caveat, cash may be king, but no diner wants your small change. Some people stick all their pennies dimes and nickels in plastic bags. If the turkey, bacon club sandwich with fries comes to $10.75 even a 24-hour diner is going to complain when they have to count up 1075 pennies and no one really wants singles or for that matter $100s. Cash is king if you’re paying with $5s, $10s and $20s. It would be interesting to see how Warren Buffett, the sage of Omaha, pays for his grilled cheese.

Read Francis Levy's "Book Notes," Largehearted Boy