Publication and Treasure: the Shebeen Club meeting for May

cross-posted from BOTH and Facebook, because our domain name at the Shebeen Club blog is currently in limbo, and cannot be fixed for a few days.

Library Editions

Building on last month’s successful meeting re-examining the existing publishing model, we’ve lined up renegade publisher and artist Robert Chaplin of independent publisher Library Editions to give us his take on end-running the Old Boy’s Network.

On Monday May 18th at the Shebeen Club Royal Canadian Academician Robert Chaplin will discuss publication and treasure, vis a vis the extinction of codex in the electronic age.

The importance of perfect rhyme and meter with respect to the mainstream absorption of hip hop.

Robert Chaplin was born under a lucky star and has fed pancakes to WhiskeyJacks.

Mr Chaplin will be launching his fourth Library Edition trade hardcover ‘Brussels Sprouts & Unicorns’ Thursday May 21st at Walrus, 18th & Cambie.

Who: Robert Chaplin and the Shebeen Club

What: our monthly meeting

When: 6-9pm Monday, May 18th

Where: The Shebeen, behind the Irish Heather, 210 Carrall Street in Vancouver

Deets: $15 includes dinner and a drink, so what are you waiting for?

Robert Chaplin gets schooled by Gary Kasparov

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Everyone needs an editor!

Literati are perhaps the least respected of professionals. Oh, sure, every doctor gets hit up at parties for a snap diagnosis freebie (Miss Manners’ advice? Reply “certainly, now if you’ll just disrobe I’ll examine you.” Hey, it WOULD liven up a party) but how many of them get “I’ve always been good with cutlery, probably would make a pretty snappy surgeon, doncha think?”

Writers? Editors? Every feeb who knows the alphabet has internalized that old “Everyone has one novel in them.” Yeah, maybe. But whoever said that (Confucius? Hesiod? Boccaccio? I wanna give that man a swiftian kick in the legpit region, I’m telling you) was careful not to claim it would be a good novel. Or even a novel one.

You see what I’m getting at here?

Few indeed are even the true the classics of literature that couldn’t be improved by the judicious exercise of editorial oversight. Think, for instance, how much better most of Thomas Hardy would be with a restrained sprinkling of snappy musical numbers.  Think of how much more eagerly students would tear through The Canterbury Tales if they were a Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys mystery instead. Think: The Gulag Archipelago With Zombies.

Oh hey…

Where was I? Right, editors and improvement. Longtime readers of the ol’ raincoaster blog (for what crime can this be the inhuman sentence? I ask yez) will be aware that we at raincoaster HQ have long cherished a fondness for the old-fashioned Yankee consumptive Howard Phillips Lovecraft; fewer, however, will realize that in addition to being a talented author of eldritch tales™ Lovecraft was also an editor and collaborator of prolixity and profound talent.

Climb with us into the Wayback Machine, set the dial for “Arkham,” and behold the birth of a career:

Young Lovecraft

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Peaches Geldof, world’s least-likely humourist

Peaches Geldof with man of the moment

“I have respect for broadsheet journalists because
they haven’t succumbed to degrading themselves, to
writing pidgin English with all these terrible
colloquialisms, the phrasing of which is just,
like, embarrassing”

Peaches Geldof

from Popbitch

the evil of banality

Because when you dump a bucket of buzzkill on us, what do we have left to blog about? Eh? I ask you that!

Monkey or Shoggoth

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ain’t it the