shit-eating grins, Nyarlathotep, and LiveJournal

Satan's Shit-Eating GrinLike many humanoids, I have several friends who use the expression "shit-eating grin" on a regular basis. Probably more than they use their shit-eating grin muscles. And, unfortunately, like most of the world, they're using it wrong.

Every. Single. Time.

The expression "shit-eating grin," which surely deserves to go down in history as one of the 20th Century's greatest contributions to vocabulary (think about it…vocabulary of the 20th Century…you take my point) was originated, like white suits and pretentious hepcatism, by American author Tom Wolfe. It comes from…oh god, I hope I can find it before WordPress goes down again…lately it's been up and down more than a toi- what was I just saying about 20th Century vocab? See!

Ah, bugger it! When in doubt, go to memory. Since I haven't read that piece for at least ten years, I'm quite impressed with my own memory. It's from "Mau-Mauing the Flack-Catchers," of course. And it's the expression the poor white flack-catcher affixes to his face for the duration of his verbal beat-down by the Samoans.Bill Gates Shit-Eating Grin

The man is being paid to go out there and listen to these people, or at least to sit there and take shit and nod as if he's paying attention, and then to go away and undertake lengthy and expensive therapy to forget about the whole thing. And he has to sit there and take this shit with a polite, encouraging smile on his face, which is somewhat hard to do in a room full of hostile, seven-foot, three hundred pound Samoan activists who are pounding on the floor and chanting. And so his grin becomes fixed. It becomes a rictus. It becomes the grimace the kindly country doctor finds on the face of the mindless yet still uncannily animated corpse of the poor sap who only came out to Arkham to do geneological research and has instead glimpsed the undisguised visage of Nyarlathotep and now cannot stop giggling. And crying.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what a shit-eating grin truly is.

So…

I have one on my face right now, for lo, thanks to Gawker I have found something of value on LiveJournal.

Fuck.

P&Ls and how books make (or don't) money: part the first: the mass market original complete failure

In which I explain how we figure out how much money to pay authors for their advance, and also in which I explain how sometimes books make money and sometimes they don't…

Which is really just a more detailed version of something Lori Dunn did at the Shebeen Club a few months back. Sooo nice to be ahead of Manhattan. Still, I'll be an wizened old grannie by the time Gawker gives ME a shout-out. Mark is so much more accessible!

DeLay Shit-Eating Grin

BC Book and Magazine Week

They say that in order to succeed in any field it is critical to have mentors. More established, experienced practitioners who've been down all the false trails and worked out the kinks, they provide a guideline and touchstone to the newbies. As a gossipiste I have Perez Hilton to look up to, and I have learned a great deal.

Swag rules, baby!

So, both because I know this is a great event that many of my readers will be interested in, AND because James Sherrett offered me a bribe, the raincoaster blog presents:

BC Book and Magazine WeekBC Book and Magazine Week

BC Book & Magazine Week (BCBMW) is a collective project that the Association of Book Publishers of BC (ABPBC) and the BC Association of Magazine Publishers (BCAMP) coordinate annually. This weeklong literary celebration was founded in January 1999 as BC Book Week. In 2001 the event expanded to include the provinces magazine industry in continued celebration of British Columbia's literary arts scene.

This year, BC Book & Magazine Week will run from Saturday, April 22 to 29, 2006, with events hosted throughout the Lower Mainland, Vancouver Island and the Okanagan. BCBMW's purpose is to instill in British Columbians the importance of the local publishing industry and its contributors, writers, photographers and illustrators; it contributes not only to literacy, but to the province's culture and identity as well.

The week re-establishes British Columbia's valuable and dynamic role in the Canadian publishing industry and is an excellent opportunity for the ABPBC and BCAMP to promote and support their members: the publishers of BC books and magazines, and those who make the industry successful – the readers and writers.

As a result of the buzz created by the media, the roster of writers and the fantastic events put on each year, British Columbians are becoming increasingly aware of this annual event that celebrates the richness of BC books and magazines.

Now, the serious poop here is in the blog. If you're a literatus looking for a good time (and who among us is not?) check it out regularly, because it lists all the most bibliotastic book launches, parties, contests, etc within reach of downtown Vancouver. And most of them are free, us not being the type to walk around loaded down with cashola. More of said hot poop on the Upcoming.org listing.

See you there?

Shebeen Club: My Life in Crime

Truman, very TruTake two: the first attempt at posting this went kapoof!

Apparently, this little press release of mine has stirred up quite a response. The presenter emailed me a bit anxiously, noting that he's in every paper in town today. Funny, that. I found myself to be considerably less upset about it. Good thing he doesn't know Granta is on the list, along with every literary magazine in the US and Canada (all the ones I could find emails for, anyway). Hey, sooner or later everyone comes through Vancouver, and that woman in Georgia said some very nice things in January.

Someone told Maikopunk that the release was "tasteless and glib." While I fully cop to the glibitude, I must protest the characterization of this missive as "tasteless." As with the finest works of the esteemed cinematic genius Mr. John Waters, it is in the very best of Bad Taste.

Vulgar is the new black.Holmes and Watson

 

In any case, her friend was perversely piqued and intrigued by her put-downs, and once I actually posted the word "Harumph" on her blog, signed up for two tickets.

As the great Gawker says,

It's Not Whoring If You Do It For Free

For immediate release: post/forward at will!

Who: The Shebeen Club presents Jeremy Hainsworth, crime reporter extraordinaire

What: My Life in Crime!  When: 7-9pm Tuesday, April 18th, 2006 (3rd Tuesday ea month)

Where: The Shebeen, behind the Irish Heather, 217 Carrall

Why: Voyeurism runs deep, baby! Find out what it really takes to do this job. It’s not all fedoras and dive bars. 

How (much)? $20 before April 14th, $25 thereafter

reservations and media inquiries: lorraine.murphy at gmail dot com.

Admission includes a criminally good dinner/drink combo! This month it will be a Bloody Mary and your choice of blood pudding and a side of fries/salad OR a vegetarian blood orange entree salad. Bloody marvelous!

 Background: https://raincoaster.wordpress.com/2006/03/18/the-shebeen-club-a-history-in-press-releases/ 

Putting the “laughter” in “manslaughter.”

 

With patented black humour, Jeremy will lead us down the dark and twisted alleys of a crime reporter’s life. From paperwork to prison visits, we’ll become one with the sordid underbelly of Vancouver. It’s Blood Alley, so we’re halfway there!

Jeremy will also be discussing (and bringing a copy of) the publication ban on the Pickton trial.

Dress: Clark Kent, Lois Lane, or Raymond Chandler. Ann Rule doesn’t know how to dress!  

Bio: Jeremy Hainsworth is one of a handful of journalists writing for the international media from Vancouver. As B.C correspondent for the AP, he has had the dubious honour of covering the ongoing hearings of alleged serial killer Robert Pickton and the Air India terrorism case. He has freelanced for Reuters, was senior crime reporter for The Calgary Herald, senior editor of Sterling News Service (his office was below that of Conrad Black's partner David Radler), and managing editor of the Dawson Creek daily paper where he covered his first murder from seeing the body to the release of the convicted youths.

He has a diploma in journalism from Langara and a BA from UBC. His work has appeared in many of the world's major newspapers on every continent except Antarctica where penguins cannot read. 

The ShebeenMeet & Mingle 7-7:30

Listen & Learn 7:30-8

Wistful reminiscences of hookers with hearts of gold 8-9

 

it’s a small, nasty world, after all

Forgive me; this is going to be a post with the bare minimum of reflection in it, at least until the comments section, because quite frankly I really don’t want to know what I think or how I feel about this. Right now I have to say I’d prefer neither to think about this, nor to have feelings about it, or even at all

It’s been five years since I felt sorry for Trevor Greene.

Trevor Greene CivilianTrevor Greene is a dynamic, innovative and well-traveled individual with over 15 years of experience in writing and reporting. He is a speaker of three languages, a published author, an entrepreneur, a trained and experienced liaison officer, and has eight years of highly regarded service in the Canadian Armed Forces.

Greene joined the Vancouver bureau of Bloomberg News as a general assignment reporter on business and finance in Canada and Asia. He also began researching and writing about the so-called poorest postal code in Canada; Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside.

He wrote his first nonfiction book in Canada, Bad Date: The Lost Girls of Vancouver’s Low Track, about the women who have gone missing from the Downtown Eastside over the past 15 years. Bad Date was published in November 2001. Some of his present entrepreneurial projects include an eco-tourism venture and a community volunteer consulting company.

Greene is an officer in the Seaforth Highlanders, a Vancouver-based primary reserve infantry unit, where his main duties are domestic emergency and disaster response, and community and civilian agency liaison. At time of writing he was also preparing for a six-month army deployment to Afghanistan in 2006 as part of Operation Archer.

Greene lives on a boat docked at Fisherman’s Wharf on Vancouver’s Granville Island. He speaks English, Japanese and French.

In 1993, while living in Japan, he’d written a critically-lauded book Bridge of Tears on the taboo subject of Japanese homelessness. Socially-conscious from the beginning, his latest project was a venture philanthropy initiative, encouraging fat cats to invest in Afghanistan’s rebuilding.

Bad DateIn 2001 his new book Bad Date:The Lost Girls of Vancouver’s Low Track, the first on the Missing Women case, had just come out to cautiously positive reviews. 

Over two years, Greene spent just about every day in the impoverished neighbourhood, eventually earning the trust of prostitutes, police and the families left behind. He paints a graphic picture of life in the ‘s most drug-addicted neighbourhood.

“What I was shocked at is the violence that is perpetrated on these women by normal, everyday johns every single day,” Greene said in an interview.

Nobody really wanted to be seen crowing about a book that laid out the fact that there was a serial killer on the loose in Vancouver. Unfortunately for Trevor Greene’s book (which I immediately bought because I was working on what I figured would be the SECOND book about the case), a few weeks after it came out Willy Pickton was arrested for those murders, essentially rendering Greene’s book, with its many theories and free-floating, faceless menace, obsolete.

I felt sorry for the lad.

A few months later, my friend Miss V asked me if I knew him; he’d applied for membership in her Social Empire. I said we’d never met, but that I knew his writing from the book as well as his social journalism pieces in the Georgia Straight, and he seemed like an earnest, educated, and interesting guy, not the fashionista A-List type (this was in the days before “metrosexual” was a term, but after it had become a lifestyle). No idea if she let him in or not, but smart money says yes.

Then, not one word from that time to this. Vancouver’s a small town. Six degrees of separation do not apply; six degrees do not exist. In this city, it’s two, at most three. Jounalists grow wary of chatting about stories, not for fear of being overheard and scooped, but because it’s quite likely that the barista, or the blonde at the next table, or someone else within earshot, is sleeping with/related to/BFF with the subject of the article.

Today, at the Shebeen Club, I found out the latest about Trevor Greene.

It happened in Shinkay. The man just can’t pick a good neighborhood.

Canadian Soldier Wounded in Afghan Ambush

The axe assault that badly injured a Canadian soldier was part of a deliberate ambush as troops met with village elders in southern Afghanistan, the military says.

Lieut. Trevor Greene, a journalist and former navy officer from Vancouver, suffered a serious head wound during the meeting near the small Canadian outpost at Gumbad, about 70 kilometres north of Kandahar.

Capt. Kevin Schamuhn, the commander who was leading the expedition, told CBC News that the Canadian troops had already visited several villages during the day to attend shuras, or meetings with village elders.

He said all of them had been peaceful events where they shared lunch or tea and introduced themselves.

The Canadians took off their helmets and put down their guns as they usually do to reassure villagers that they were friendly.

“There was no weird feelings. There was no gut feeling that something was about to go down. Everything was very calm and similar to the previous meetings.”

A minute later, a man who appeared to be less than 20 walked up behind Greene and pulled a half-metre-long axe out from underneath his clothes.

“He pulled an axe out from underneath his clothing and lifted right above his head, standing right behind Trevor,” said Schamuhn, who was sitting only about a metre away.

As he lifted up the axe, the man shouted “Allahu Akbar,” which means “God is great” in Arabic.

Then, said Schamuhn, “he swung the axe into Trevor’s head.”

“He was just really set on helping these people and doing it right. He’s just really well-spoken and mature. …He was just really looking forward to helping these people.”

He was shipped out to a military hospital in Germany immediately, via Black Hawk helicopter. After two months in critical care there, one week ago he was transferred to Vancouver General Hospital.

The emotional father of a Canadian soldier seriously wounded in an axe attack in Afghanistan welcomed his son home Tuesday, saying he’s improving every day.

Richard Greene said his son, Trevor, has been breathing on his own for the past four days and even managed to move his legs while in hospital in Germany.

“That apparently has some significance and we believe it (does.) We’re confident he’ll recover completely,” said Greene. “He’s just received great care.”

Greene had to pause to compose himself.

He said his son has received e-mails of support from around the world. Greene read them to his comatose son in Germany.

Greene described Trevor as “quite a lad.”

Richard Greene said Trevor volunteered to go to Afghanistan and hoped he could later get some experience at the United Nations.

“We’re very proud of him,” said Greene. 

His writing partner has put up a page on their website for the media. I’ll paste it here, with a couple of spam-reducing edits.

A Message to the Media and Concerned Canadians
 

From Shane Gibson co-author and friend of Trevor Greene

Thank-you for all of your prayers and concern for Trevor at this time.  I have passed on your well wishes to his family and those closest to him.  At this time I will not be commenting on interviews in regards to Trevor’s situation until he and his family give me the okay.His family is busy praying and hoping for the best and I will forward any requests to make statements or comments directly to them.  Just drop an e-mail to shane at closingbigger dot com. At this time I have been asked not to disclose their contact details.Trevor is very professional in everything he does.  This includes keeping in the strictest confidence the nature of his military responsibilities and past experiences while serving our country.  Your best source of information is from the Department of National Defense.Here’s what I can be quoted on:
 
“Trevor is a talented author, an amazing Dad and partner, the kind of person you can count on always. He is deeply committed to protecting and preserving the freedoms we enjoy as Canadians.”

Kindest Regards,

Shane Gibson

Trevor Greene

Hemingway’s Nobel Acceptance Speech

This is something I read at the Shebeen Club’s long-ago Hemingway’s Birthday Party. James Sherrett was kind enough to be one of our readers that night, with an excerpt from his very Hemingwayesque novel Up in Ontario.

Up in Ontario 

Our other reader was Lucan Charchuk, who has now read twice, as well as presenting some of his artwork.

Luke the Olive Vase 

When Lori Dunn and I began the Shebeen Club, we hoped that within a year we’d be using it to present living Canadian authors, instead of dead foreign celebrities. This was the first event at which we managed to do both, and almost a year ahead of schedule! There were challenges to be overcome, of course. Our event occurred during a bicycle race whose track completely encircled and cut off the pub, but our public was not to be thwarted, and we had a relatively full house. The readings went very well. Despite the dangerous concentration of so much masculinity in one room, violence was averted and a sense of calm, if really testosterone-fuelled calm, reigned.

This is the speech that a very ill Hemingway had the US Ambassador read as he accepted the Nobel Prize for Literature on Hemingway’s behalf. It tells you something about the courage of the two men above that they had the fortitude to read their own work after hearing this. Hemingway is, as always, honest to the point of acute pain. He sets the bar very high; may we all attain that height, if only for a moment.

Hemingway’s Nobel Acceptance Speech

Having no facility for speech-making and no command of oratory nor any domination of rhetoric, I wish to thank the administrators of the generosity of Alfred Nobel for this Prize.

No writer who knows the great writers who did not receive the Prize can accept it other than with humility. There is no need to list these writers. Everyone here may make his own list according to his knowledge and his conscience.

It would be impossible for me to ask the Ambassador of my country to read a speech in which a writer said all of the things which are in his heart. Things may not be immediately discernible in what a man writes, and in this sometimes he is fortunate; but eventually they are quite clear and by these and the degree of alchemy that he possesses he will endure or be forgotten.

Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer’s loneliness but I doubt if they improve his writing. He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates. For he does his work alone and if he is a good enough writer he must face eternity, or the lack of it, each day.

For a true writer each book should be a new beginning where he tries again for something that is beyond attainment. He should always try for something that has never been done or that others have tried and failed. Then sometimes, with great luck, he will succeed.

How simple the writing of literature would be if it were only necessary to write in another way what has been well written. It is because we have had such great writers in the past that a writer is driven far out past where he can go, out to where no one can help him.

I have spoken too long for a writer. A writer should write what he has to say and not speak it. Again I thank you.