Media for Tom Bradley


	Media Tom reads from his book, Lemur (9:57). King Kong vs. Godzilla: Tom Bradley Happy-Fucks Osaka Read about a crazed gig Tom gave recently in Osaka. His life was in danger. There were motorcycle punks, Yakuza gangsters and extreme rightist fanatics all over the place! It's in Andrew Gallix's splendid 3:AM Magazine, out of Paris.
	Tom INVENTS a GENRE! It's been described as "the New Review, analogous to the New Journalism." Read his gigantic essay on Jonathan Penton's new poetry collection, in Val Stevenson's splendid NTHPOSITION. also at nthposition-- SURPLUS WILL "Almost nobody has ever adequately evoked that gorgeous monster-hardon called Paris. But Andrew Gallix has nailed it to the wall like a luminiferous aether of opium jelly. I reckon he can do it because his language is lush and orgiastic as the topic it encompasses. Well up to the task, with plenty left over." DEAD TIME AT THE HOSPICE Cynthia seems to have come barging out of her mom's womb with a gargantuan knack for getting into trouble. That's the only explanation for her life. But when she showed up in Tokyo last month, she outdid herself. Cynthia fucked up so badly, and so creatively, that even the cops were stunned. The Procurator actually started to weep. Read about Cynthia's dreadful comeuppance at the resuscitated Exquisite Corpse. Tom employs Tolstoyan philosophy and the timeless wisdom of the Upanishads to solve once and for all the many dilemmas posed by American populist democracy-- FUCK VOTING. It's at the brilliant ANDREW GALLIX's BUZZWORDS. Staying After School "You're on your own from here. Go around the back, and if a jailer stops you, it would be better if you slashed your own throat, for here they do it very slowly with a dull, serrated blade." Rread more at ARABESQUE REVIEW out of ALGERIA. The Life and Times of LaFontaine the Mesmerizer "Those two megalomaniacs are going to draw stilettos any moment. It's so unpleasant to have corpses bleeding underfoot at soirees this time of year." It's at VAL STEVENSON'S SUPERLATIVE NTHPOSITION. SUPPORT THE TROOPS BY GIVING THEM POSTHUMOUS BONERS Leftward-leaning Prot-priestess gets overexcited at Marine hero's funeral, causing all true red American blood to seethe. Exacerbate your systole, squeeze your diastole, at Andrew Gallix’s legendary BUZZWORDS. JOINT VENTURE "Your big sisters and brothers sing for you. They've been through this, and I as well, and we survived. You will, also. It's part of the burden of being a grown-up lady. So, don't spoil their song with unhappy sounds from your own throat. Bite this rag. It's better than chewing your tongue off, right? And we wouldn't want to alarm the neighbors." --Learn more about the Japanese entertainment industry at Litvision. NITE CAPS During the greater part of my fourteenth year, I was obliged to pay regular visits to a certain loved one in the loony bin... Get committed at Val Stevenson's NTHPOSITION 3am Magazine SLIMY POPE A brief, sober meditation on the passing of the Supreme Pontiff. Also at Andrew Gallix's unparalleled 3AM: FORGET THE ED KLEIN BOOK: HERE'S THE STRAIGHT DOPE ON HILLARY Hillary Clinton had an enormous, delicious-looking American-style holiday ham, glazed and grease-glistening, which bristled with cloves and pineapple rings. She had strapped this vast delicacy to her mighty pelvis... INJURING ETERNITY Unlike Mr. Thoreau, who was back east at the time having his camp-out, we did not hear at night "the rattle of railroad cars, now dying away and then reviving like the beat of a partridge." We had to listen to grizzlies and timber wolves beating the hell out of each other just outside the glow of our campfire. And there were no trains within eight hundred miles... Read it in CANOPIC JAR EXQUISITE CORPSE Two harrowing accounts of being groped by mean old lady commies-- Former "Little General" Goes Down on the Fu-Wu-Yuan Boomtown Roosky Sing This Song Why I never walk through a Chinese park during Spring Festival The civic authorities have drained the artificial lake, and thousands of handcarts are purging the bed of five centuries' accumulation of mucus, slopping it everywhere ankle-deep. Plenty more at Val Stevenson's bliss-inducing nthposition (Shortlisted for the 2002 European Online Journalism Awards) RALPH MAGAZINE Read about Tom's adventures with a strange aboriginal tribe in southern China. Everyone knows his mother, but nobody is sure, or gives much of a damn, who his father is. Editor LOLITA LARK has listed this article as one of the 15 best she's published in the past ten years/100 issues. "Who gussied up the tin man before his audience with the Emerald Wizard? Who do you suppose is responsible for Karen Carpenter and Rock Hudson? I mean toward the end there. Who made them over so that, straight up to the final curtain, they shone brighter and more movingly than ever before in their entire distinguished careers?" THE STYLIST, that's who! Get a makeover at Andrew Gallix's magisterial 3am Magazine StorySouth Million Writers Award Notable Online Short Stories of 2003 SUBSTITUTES It was possible to hear the amazing rats that brawled in the room across the dark corridor: hell room, where the garbage of the three years' existence of this already decaying building had been swept and retained for unimaginable reasons. The creatures thrashed among the liquefying refuse, making noises like the hundredth-generation Nile crocodiles in their open sewer at the zoo. Winner of the JUROR'S CHOICE AWARD SCREAM MAGAZINE International Fiction Competition Omega Magazine *HARD SEAT* It wasn't until they were deposited at two o'clock AM in this wilderness that panic had threatened to overtake the ranks of the little army. Not only the darkness and the horrible ghosts it might conceal, but the countryside itself terrified them: snakes and tigers and water buffaloes with naked rice urchins fastened to their humps like blood-lice; the very open spaces themselves, rivers, hills, sky. The moon blinded their bruised eyes, unencumbered by her customary shroud of city soot... Tom has gone among THE MOST DANGEROUS WRITERS ALIVE, at Michael Annis' Howling Dog Press Also at OMEGA MAGAZINE Prairie Pogrom ...Spikey relived some of the weird good times back when he was a hostage in Tehran, as though they were happening right now to him, so vivid they were. Like the time he learned to count to ten in Parsee: this little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy went wee-wee-wee. Except Spikey had to change it into a goat, 'cause Eyeranians don't cotton to no pigs. Tom speechifies it. Tom retells an ancient Buddhist JATAKA-- Two crows are perched over the city gate, through which a learned Brahman is about to pass. The first crow says, "I'm going to shit on this guy's head..." Read more at Washington D.C.'s beautiful RAVINGS One more for OMEGA Zaftig Zippy Mart Middle Management Loose in Houston's Nighttime Streets She has a ragged void inside that only yesterday could be more or less filled with tons of Texas snack food; but the gash in her underbelly now is looking for something more substantial--not the type of item Zippy shelves in its neighborhood franchises. Mrs. Barkdull needs to incorporate something red. POETS & WRITERS MAGAZINE *How to Give a Rousing Reading* I base my self-respect on the paper product, because the mass of bone and soft tissue that gets dragged to the podium each time will be silenced and invisible soon enough...To be reprinted in THE PRACTICAL WRITER ANTHOLOGY (Viking Penguin). Even the Dog Won't Touch Me Winner of the HARPER/COLLINS-3AM FICTION COMPETITION "With the exception of the intelligentsia types who are friendly on the street afterwards in a way that makes me sad, my only patients these days are the more unfortunate rape victims that flood the corridors during every major and minor lunar festival, on their serene ways to death, majestically unable to push my hands away. I feel more like a pathologist than a physician." NO BAUDELAIRES IN BABYLON Tom got on an airplane, flew over Siberia, disembarked in Paris, made his way to the Sorbonne, and ranted at the First Worldwide Conference on Literature and the Internet. Read his speech at Jack Magazine. Featured in ARTS AND LETTERS DAILY, winner of the prestigious WEBBY AWARD. Did you ever have a high school teacher who thought your homework assignmnents were so unbelievably beautiful that he held them under a lamp to make sure they were composed of mere markings on paper, and then jacked off on them? Read about SAM EDWINE'S GLORIOUS PENMANSHIP at the UK's internetfiction Also featured at Denis Dutton's sublimest of all intellectual blogs, ARTS & LETTERS DAILY-- FrontPage Magazine Ethnic Narcissism and Infertility in Japan Japan's current "negative population growth," according to my disgruntled old colleague, is the expression of an unexampled moral degeneracy. "Here is a people so exhausted and shortsighted," he sputters, "they've sold what little dangling scab of a soul they had for a shopping spree." Reprinted at Newtopia. UNDECORATED DAD Identity Theory He considered going over to kill Hitler or Hirohito or somebody, but Uncle Sam had no boots or uniforms anywhere near his size... CLOSET FICTION "Golan and Globus' people are talking seven figures." "Oh yeah. Seven. That is sort of a whole bunch of money, isn't it?" Learn the secrets of the publishing industry at 42opus StorySouth Million Writers Award Notable Online Short Stories of 2003 RIDING THE HORSE "Do you know any card or coin tricks? Or maybe something with stick matches? Do something like that for the nuns and they'll kowtow to you as the latest reincarnation of the Buddha and let you eat the boiled breasts of their white chickens. At night you can sleep on the altar and gorge on the jungle people's fruit offerings, if you can manage to gag down the incense ash they're covered with. The nuns will greet the day thinking the Black Flower Mountain spirits have eaten well, and they'll praise you, pray to you and feed you more chicken because your presence is appetizing to the local ghosts." It's in Oyster Boy Review, winner of the Pushcart Prize. Portrait of the Artist's Great Grandmother as a Young Uncompahgre She has been decked out in traditional garb for an aboriginal rite, her lily-white midriff daringly exposed, the rest of her smothered under fur too sparse to belong to anything large as a bear, though it is the Bear Dance she is about to participate in. Read it at Brevity. FLIP Retort Magazine ...the golden Elder preached directly into little Flip's ear about one God, an individualistic Father, a single-minded, single-bodied, unbent anthropomorphic thrusting sand-Jehovah, with a purple-turbanned head and a hardened torso, hairless as a Gila monster, standing manly, erect in posture, upon the roughly twin orbs of the Doctrine and the Covenants. Hear Tom intone it. RealPoetik HUGH OF PROVO Two marauders seep through the drapes in vaporous form and reintegrate on the skin of my chest, where the larger, more anthropomorphic one squats in a vulgar position, something furred and taloned coiling around her plump limbs... Reprinted in the MAMMOTH ANTHOLOGY. THE BLOODSUCKER OF NAGASAKI Identity Theory Rather than declaring my Uncle Tom Glover a national anathema and erasing him from the public awareness, the Japanese have posthumously dubbed him "the Scottish Samurai." They have enshrined the memory of this ravenous monster, who destroyed one of their own women in return for a few orgasms, and poisoned their archipelago in the meantime. They call him the Founder of Modern Japan. Also in Identity Theory Trash and Serious Literature in America: Aristotle Blows the Whistle on Us By the time Hemingway decided to blow out his brains with a shotgun in Idaho, the discontinuity between art and escapism had become wide as the Grand Canyon, so that even the average citizen couldn't fail to notice. It required the diseased genius of Madison Avenue to bridge the gap, or at least to stick a Lady Liberty-sized band-aid over it. Originally published in Unquiet Mind, and featured in ARTS AND LETTERS DAILY Baptizing Dead People for Fun and Profit: *Organized Religion's Most Imaginative Scam* "Whenever a baby is conceived on earth, a soul flutters down and squeezes itself into the embryo. Imagine squeaky sounds, as when someone in the back seat of your car is desperately trying to pull on a wet rubber swimsuit before the Highway Patrolman can come to the window..." Learn more in Val Stevenson's fabulous NthPOSITION (Shortlisted for the 2002 European Online Journalism Awards) Also in NthPOSITION Harsh Words of Mercury "I'm certain Great Auntie wouldn't appreciate being culled from this ash trough and placed into the memorial urn by cartoon character chopsticks," sneered Mom as they knelt with cousins and grannies around the sirloin-fragrant pit. HOME OF THE BRAVE crossXconnect This is the proper angle, between these two ribs. Slice in, firmly, to get through the muscle fibers, and then up, up, up. Come on, don't be so polite about it. I mean really up! Try again... Okay, now watch his eyes. Count to ten... See that? The life goes out at a leisurely pace, and he sort of snuggles into himself with a sigh, like a tired baby at bedtime... 09-11-01, The Living Issue CREATIVE NONFICTION JOURNAL *Procedures for an American Military Wife Stationed in Hiroshima in Times of Increased Terrorist Activity* If, by some horrific coincidence, Osama bin Laden has chosen this moment to come and pitch you and your babies off the balcony--no problem. Reprinted at UNLIKELY STORIES A TRIO OF QUESTIONABLE YOUNGSTERS Don't you recall how she mouthed your fingers and bit your nails, so no sutures snagged as you lay, cribbed, undulating your tongue to the breast pump's click and suck? Read three Bradley flash-fictions at Lee Klein's astonishing EYESHOT. Suspensions of Disbelief >>Featured in the Webby Award-winning ARTS & LETTERS DAILY If the rest of our solar system is any indication, the extra-terrestrial universe must comprise mere worlds with sulfuric acid rain and nitrous oxide atmospheres, maybe a squalid wretch of a microscopic worm here and there, more mud than life--but mostly this toxic idiocy, repeated over and over in the context of billions and quadrillions of galaxies and so on. That sounds to me like just about the right number of trial runs and abortive attempts and false starts it would take, throwing a limited number of atoms against the wall for an unlimited period, to produce, this time around, what's coiled and tucked so neatly behind my personal eyeballs and between my Bradley ear-holes... Be enlightened further at NEWTOPIA. Also at Newtopia ONE CHILD POLICY The little family hunkered in a damp black corner, wailing like Laotians, their brittle arms umbrellaed over the authorized single child, plus its illicit and civilly non-existent sibling. They were like the 120-year-old former slaves in Tennessee and Mississippi, the ones you used to drive several days to see, to get some wisdom--only to find that they'd managed to linger on through childishness. They had superior experience only in whelping, drudgery and fear. EXQUISITE CORPSE Bachelor Biff and His Foo-Chow Whore Get a Crypto-Missionary in Big Trouble with the Chi-Coms Junky flat-backers and hyperfecundant Utahns are not ideal company, but they beat the hell out of students. Also in EXQUISITE CORPSE *China's Underground Church* The so-called Patriotic Church made a number of doctrinal concessions to gain the imprimatur of the central authorities. Despite his commie-busting reputation, and in blatant disregard of the heretical nature of those concessions, His Holiness the Pope jumped on the bandwagon and upheld the legitimacy of their apostolic succession. The legendary lure of the Chinese market has corrupted far better men than John Paul-John Paul. GADFLY *At the Airport* What happens when a teenager armed with a cheese dog and a large root beer sees an aviophobic National Book Award winner trembling in the departure lounge? ALSO IN GADFLY *Breakable Bayonets, Chinese Style* A single round fired point-blank into the occipital lobe is preferred to our kindler, gentler lethal injection, as the latter chemically taints innards and renders them unsuitable for sale. This back-of-the-attic approach also leaves precious hearts and kidneys unpunctured, which makes them more attractive to the people-giblet mongers who cater to rich sick people, including Americans. FEATURED IN ARTS AND LETTERS DAILY NthPOSITION My Public Ministry Among the Heathen I offer up my exiled condition on this poisoned and cramped archipelago. I devote my forehead full of the gory imprints of dwarf-level lintels, and my endocrine system exuding bits of decayed nuclei. With my own self, I atone for the greatest sin of my grandpappy's generation... Featured in ARTS AND LETTERS DAILY, winner of the prestigious WEBBY AWARD. Also in NthPOSITION The Nagasaki Literary Scene There are more screams today in this city--and, with the plague of cellphones (a means of extending screams), more carcinogenic radiation--than at any time in the past fifty-six years. Reprinted in The American Journal of Print. THE RICHMOND REVIEW At the Creative Writing Workshop "The grotesque little shit was taking notes. He was sucking it all in like rat poison, with an eager smile on his kisser. He was revising his story on the spot..." KILLING THE BUDDHA *Princessing Lessons* No need for jumbo-jets full of prepubescent sex slaves: Japan's Great Goddess has arrived. Squirting Chubbies When it is possible to cure Hansen's disease patients ten at a pop, to replace severed ears, yea brethren, e'en to re-vivify corpses moldering in the salt pools of Gaza, who would allow Himself to be mocked, derided, and tacked up mumbling for three hours, twenty-three minutes and fourteen seconds, more or less, on a splintery gibbet like a farouche beaver hide? Only a self-deprecating masochist, that's who... There's more, if you're ready, at WORD RIOT. RealPoetik SAM EDWINE SAYS "HI-HI" TO A BUM IN FOO-CHOW (MARCO POLO WENT THERE, TOO) "You must be one of those guys my age, the 'lost generation' who can't do anything because the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution blew you out like light bulbs. You can't even sit up straight while you beg, but slouch flat on your back in your wheelchair, your pelvis poked forward, your head propped at a ninety degree angle--just like me most of the time, except I have a bed and a pillow and a book by Foucault to make it look legitimate." McSweeney's *Holiday In Hiroshima* This is a whole city of vaporizations, solidity itself relaxed into its constituent particles and blown off as easily as powder from a moth's wing... Big Bridge *I WAS A TEENAGE RENT-A-FRANKENSTEIN* Years ago, fresh-faced and pretty much normal, my favorite cousin, Pynn Barkdull, went on a Mormon mission to Salem, Massachusetts. After serving out the appointed two years, he came back on the Greyhound appearing every bit as wholesome as when he'd left, admirably concealing the fact that he could see and feel fiery blisters erupting from his flesh, and could hear, inside his own skull, the tormented screeches of every witch that had ever been hanged or pressed in that town. CASSIE She was almost eighteen and had just reached her full six feet in a sudden, late spurt of vertical growth. A prissy doctor back in Utah had wanted to induce early puberty in Cassie, shoot her with lady hormones to make her wind up shorter. But her dad and she had said bullshit to that, and Cassie had finally finished puberty a little late, as if to spite the prissy doctor. Read it in M.A.G., brainchild of the formidable and singular August Highland. Reprinted in Samsara. EXQUISITE CORPSE Sam Edwine talks religion with a teen killer on top of a geothermal formation in the moonlit nighttime. Read NILLA-KILLA. The Blue Moon Review *H-BOMB* It's a multi-media extravaganza. Watch the ICBM come screaming out of its hellish silo, again and again, while you listen to Tom howl about his upbringing downwind of nuclear test sites. The sky turned black as night during lunchtime at his kindergarten! *UNLIKELY STORIES* A regular Tom-o-Rama, with three stories, one recorded audio performance, plus a formal portrait of the author and his acolytes in full liturgical attire. 3AM Magazine *Calliope's Boy* Somehow, from the way he made his banjo ring through the yellow tile tunnels of London's underground transit system, it was evident that this was exactly where this music belonged, as it were, and Samuel Edwine with it... Also in 3AM Magazine *The Barbarian Handler* When you have a truly gigantic husband, one of the advantages of sleeping on the floor in the Japanese style is that he can roll over, or even get up and sneak out on you, and there are no box springs to communicate the seismic event to your side of the bed. Aerosol Guacamole Tom's harrowing account of eating way too many psilocybin mushrooms in the Oaxacan jungle, and stumbling on a man dying in the road, and not being able to remember his Spanish grammar. It's in the MELIC REVIEW. Hear Tom rant the text. Salon.com *Bathtub revolutionary* An American creative writing teacher in China torches his students' work in the tub rather than hand it over to "the leaders." Was it piety, or the fantasy of a heroic reception back home? An article by Tom Bradley. Web Del Sol Ethnic Anthology *At the Beautician's* Factory workers could be seen dragging racks of Hong Kong-plagiarized clothing into town, and peasants pulled in handcarts of strawberries. The last time he was here, those handcarts had brimmed with dead bodies, and those racks had writhed with class enemies on their way to public struggle sessions. Also at Web Del Sol Barbarian Trouble "Have you ever seen a foreigner?" "When would I have seen one? In a bad dream?" Read more at 5 Trope Stirring *THE BREADED SIDE OF THE MANDARIN* In low gear Sam crawls up the side of the dank mountain that blots the sunrise from his bedroom every morning: a sinister peak of pre-rational alchemy plunked down, among rumors of genetic engineering run amok, at the edge of a necessarily modern metropolis. *EYESHOT* "Our local leaders are famous, even in China, for Maoist extremism. During anti-crime campaigns, when most places save their bullets for murderers and rapists and embezzlers of over five figures, here they liquidate boys for saying lascivious things to girls..." Listen to Tom read THE EPOXY-RESIN MAO. (Download the Real Player if needed). ALSO AT EYESHOT *Proving Grounds* Boys' lean backs and buttocks were plainly visible. Sinewy creatures, seemingly one-armed, followed behind them and whispered abominable jokes over their shoulders and into their juvenile ears, hunching and huffing very close, making the centaur with seven limbs. Milk Magazine *CATECHUMEN* There were several accidents during the war, and hundreds of schoolgirls, conscripted to stir the phosgene vats, died horribly. The military officials kept the details secret to avoid insurrections among the local fisherman, who had controlled this whole arm of the sea as privateers not that long before. It's said that many unmarked bone yards are concealed under these orange trees... Hear Tom's piquant commentary on Japan, which he delivered last Columbus Day to a multitude of uncounted thousands, during a live, twenty-four-hour webcast of a conference on cyber-communications, hosted by none other than Vint Cerf himself, Father of the Internet... "Incredibly enough, our author somehow managed to wangle from the brilliant Mr. Cerf an invitation to represent the archipelago of Hirohito in this region-by region, round-the-world, multimedia techno-extravaganza." (Cye Johan, in EXQUISITE CORPSE featured in the WEBBY AWARD-WINNING Arts and Letters Daily.) PINDELDYBOZ *How to Get Hired on as House Harpist in the Holy High Country* Jean Cocteau exhorts us as follows: "Whatever the public blames you for, cultivate it: it is yourself." Sam once read this in the back of the New Yorker or the Atlantic Monthly or someplace east-coasty like that, and ever since has cultivated "himself" to a perverse degree, even though he has no idea who Jean Cocteau might have been. Exquisite Corpse Animals and English Majors are Free: Teaching Creative Writing in the People's Republic of China One morning in the middle of my second year in China, the dean of the foreign languages department came tapping at my door with an ultimatum from "the leaders." I was to surrender my students' fiction, and be quick about it. Read more of Tom's experience at Exquisite Corpse. Salon.com *Turning Japanese* "Scrutiny is one thing Asian oligarchies have never been able to stand. An ignorant and incurious populace is a basic requirement for Japanese society, and the educational system couldn't be better designed to serve such ends...". Hear Tom blast it out, live, at an international cyber conference. Lit Kit The Four P's Have you ever rolled a novel into a tube, only to have the author unstick his head from the back cover and complain in a squeaky little voice? Read Tom Bradley, elbow-to-elbow with Salman Rushdie and Tom Wolfe, in LITKIT JOURNAL, brainchild of George Myers, Jr., former director of the National Book Critics Circle. Reprinted in Paris' 3AM MAGAZINE. NUISANCE CALL Biff had always been inclined to subscribe to the Leninist view of the happy hooker as a fantasy of the declining bourgeoisie. Prostitutes were just a class of oppressed workers like any other, needing reeducation. But Chica gave the lie to that wholesome conceit each time she told him to stop outside any old high-rise condo in a strange town, and she disappeared into the elevator and came back out forty-five minutes later with a couple hundred dollars cash and a beaming grin of professional pride in herself... It's in Pig Iron Malt. Milk Magazine *A Sense Of No Place* Long ago, J. Robert Oppenheimer, the Father the Atom Bomb, said that he "knew sin, in a sense which no vulgarity, no humor, no overstatement could quite extinguish..." Wanna bet? Read Tom's essay on the Universal Conflagration, in Milk. The 2nd Hand PROFESSOR SAM EDWINE AND HIS GRAD STUDENT LOUNGE AROUND A MARINA DISCUSSING THE DIET AND DENTITION OF A RIVER HOBO "The point at which the caries seeps all the way down into the vital nerve: that's where you begin to achieve the more complex bouquets that sometimes require five or six seconds to register fully upon the palate. No sauce contrived by human hands can compete. Chomped down upon with the proper amount of vigor, this humble bicuspid of mine tastes like an A-plus final exam at the Cordon Bleu school of cookery...Ah, yes. Yes. To get a rabbit this high, you'd be paying top dollar at Maxim's du Pa-ree." Also at the 2nd Hand *BOOM TOWN II* The mayor of Nagasaki is a coreligionist of my Papist wife, and a heroic man. Extreme rightists, armed with ordnance provided by the Yakuza, periodically try to assassinate the mayor of Nagasaki... And yet he stands firm as an eighteen year old's hard-on. *Too, at the 2nd Hand* *THE ETERNAL FEMININE DRAWS US OM* A dusty little fifteen- or sixteen- or seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl, leaning against a dioxin-belching culvert in the nighttime, displaying her lobster claw. Had enough? No? There's more at Chicago's great 2ND HAND *GRAPHIC PRESIDENTIAL SEX* Hillary had an enormous, delicious-looking American-style holiday ham, glazed and grease-glistening, which bristled with cloves and pineapple rings... One more time for the 2ND HAND--PROFESSORIAL TYPES They always pester you to secure cocaine for them (or is it X?), but are delighted to pay top dollar for pure malt sugar or baby laxative, and come back next day pretending to be all fucked out: "Man, what wild shit that was!" One more once for Todd Dills' 2nd HAND AN EMBITTERED AND AWFULLY UNATTRACTIVE OLD MAN ADVISES HIS YOUNG RELATIVE ON PUTTING THE MISSUS TO WORK When necessity called from Peensy's rosebud maw, she turned out to be a darn good businesswoman, quite bloodthirsty and amoral, lucky for her various dependents. Tower of Babel Keepsakes A story about eight-fingered Yakuza goons loitering in the crypt of Hiroshima cathedral, passing around an umbilical cord preserved in salt. *HERESIARCH* If you want your child placed on temporary suspension from a fundamentalist Christian school, teach him to argue the origin of species with the teacher. If you want him expelled outright, try the strange doctrine of Eternal Recurrence. (It tortured Nietzsche and tickled Schiller.) Read about it in HERESIARCH, the journal of anti-theology out of Belfast.