Here, Queer, Etc.
Un-friending someone on Facebook is the new Fuck You.
Social media has forged fraudulent ties. Relationships based on fantasy and nostalgia. A delicate ephemeral balance. Upset that, watch anger rain down.
I discovered this recently after banishing a handful of Facebook friends. Some for being boring. One for racist jokes. One relative (we've since reconnected). And my ex-wife.
It took her nearly two weeks to notice, but when she did, she expressed shock. Why?! What did it mean? It seemed to her an act of aggression.
Not quite. Fact is, I'm currently writing about her and us in JANITORGOD, my next book. My ex haunts me more than I care to admit. Getting it down is ripping me up.
This is a good thing. Necessary and long overdue. Dealing with her on Facebook clouded my creative judgment. So, click click, goodbye!
Many of you have asked if I've done the same thing with this space. For a time, yes. The idea of blogging bored me. What more to say?
I've put most of my creative juice into the book, with energy leftover for casual Tweets. This sharpened my focus and prose. I look at old posts, disgusted by the fat. Taking a break was the right move.
Does this mean I'm back? Maybe. Depends on my mood.
There's so much pious bullshit to counter. America has always been cracked, but the symptoms are getting worse. We truly are a lunatic nation.
Who wants to immerse themselves in that? There's no real escape, but one can lower the temperature. A bit, anyway. The flames still burn.
Speaking of friends, I've reconnected with Mark Neely, whom I knew in my early NYC days.
Mark was a working actor. Appeared on TV and in films (he's Julia Louis-Dreyfus' boyfriend in SOUL MAN). He introduced me to 1920s jazz. Had an intense, infectious laugh.
Mark and I laughed a lot together. His sense of humor was even weirder than mine.
He'd made several short films for his amusement. I must have watched them a dozen times. Then he suggested we make one together.
It was largely an improvised shoot. We were inspired by the early Keystone shorts. Comedies made in public with passersby staring into the camera and at the actors.
It's an odd little movie. Not much to it. Brings back memories of that time more than it raises laughs.
I lived on the Upper East Side with my girlfriend Mary. We were macrobiotic, which explains my rail-thin figure.
I performed improv in the West Village. Was about to write my first Letterman submission. Thought I was the shit.
Within a year, Mary left me. I moved to LA and wrote for Ray Combs, staying for a time with Mark. Life seemed more serious out there.
Anyway, here it is. Shot in September 1984. A few weeks before I turned 25. My Echo and the Bunnymen haircut was growing out. And at 1:18, I was nearly hit by a car. Art!