Pornographic Barn Owl.

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I know I said we were gonna take off for the break but it just felt wrong to leave you hanging out there in the wind like that. We need to stick together in this world, so we’re going to be keeping it chill here over the break instead of ceasing all communications.


I got my issues with The Rumpus. Sometimes they can be a little too NY and SF focused and can kinda forget that anything of artistic and literary merit is happening anywhere else in the country. And also, after some pretty admirable efforts on my part to do what little promotion I can with the small amount of credibility I have to promote Stephen Elliott’s book, I have yet to get that attention reciprocated onto me and my project. Wouldn’t kill them to link to some of the cool shit that happens here. Not that that’s why I dedicated all that time and money to pumping up Adderall Diaries. It’s a damn fine book by a damn fine writer, and I believe in both. Wouldn’t kill him to show a little appreciation over there is all. I’m just saying.

Whatever. The Rumpus is cool. I’m just airing some sour grapes. It’s kind of petty to be ripping on one of the few places on the internet for things of substance. And I’m starting to sound like the nerd who wasn’t invited to the party.

My favorite thing they got goin on nowadys is Pornographic Barn Owl. Simple, subtle, sublime. Often laugh-out-loud funny, sometimes sweetly sad, always hilariously honest. Imagine if Raymond Pettibon was way funnier and drew a weekly strip. I’m waiting for the collected works of Ian Huebert to come out. I will buy that shit.

Geez, I thought I was supposed to be keeping it chill…

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