Got up at 5:30. Made coffee thick like a craft show. It was so nasty it felt alive in me, like a scuttling thing. My limbs did echoes. I entered the woods dark. Spent 3 hours at the office. About 20 feet off the earth. Sun came wheeling up like a circular saw, just spraying chips of glow. Saw two raccoons. One was the size of a diet Dr. Pepper (two liter). Saw a black and white cat. Saw no deer. Wonderful day. Smelled like dirt and pitch and wobble. I took this deep shuddering breath, my lungs full of earth. Hell, I’ll say it–I felt alive.
I’ve decided Jimmy Chen is a badass. Like I keep reading Jimmy Chen all over and I keep waiting to read something and then go, “Oh yeh, that Jimmy Chen, I’ve read something like that before,” but instead I keep reading Jimmy Chen and every piece I’m going, “Damn, Jimmy Chen just pulled it off again.”
I mean I can’t get my mind around him.
Here he riffs on The Simpsons. (Go to The Simpsons, if it doesn’t take you directly. I should/could stop here. You could read this Simpsons piece and think smart, self-reflexive/critical, sharp mind/pathos/I see why you are trumpeting this writer.)
Here he reviews dad.
He’s got this monologue…
He’s got this Annual Report
He’s got this big-ass bottle of wine.
What do you want? What do you want? I keep reading Jimmy Chen and thinking, WTF? Dude just mixed some HALO with some Ray Carver drama with a Seven-Step Problem Solving Method with some wicked-ass Algebraic railroad of pain. He takes an office space and twists it right into a wry bread sandwich of famous, happy, plastic people. He takes a golf course and shows us the worms, the smell of tears collecting in the plastic cup. Like I think he might crush Chekhov into George Saunders into Ozzy Osbourne into some motivational poster on the wall of a Youth Opportunity Center gymnasium.
I’m saying I think JIMMY CHEN IS BADASS!
You should read him…seriously. I know I’m going to read every word he writes. I like his voice. I like his perspective. He’s letting this new world breath, he’s letting it into his writing, but he’s bringing some old school along, too. He’s creating art, folks. He’s taking this, he’s taking that–and he’s making something new.
Here are the top all time searches for my blog: “britney spears, britney, charles bukowski, britney spears pictures, britney spears feet”
WHAT THE FUCK?
Man, this world. I’m about to go cry myself a beer then drink it and then go burn down the police stations of my mind.
That’s fraking ridiculous! What, what Sean? What is fraking ridiculous?
How would you like to buy an anthology including ken baumann, shane jones, jimmy chen, brandi wells, blake butler, nick antosca, sam pink, james chapman, colin bassett, michael kimball, jac jemc, kim chinquee, kim parko, norman lock, randall brown, brian evenson, michael stewart, peter markus, ken sparling, aaron burch, david ohle, matthew savoca, p. h. madore, johannes göransson, charles lennox, ryan call, elizabeth ellen, molly gaudry, kevin wilson, mary hamilton, craig davis, kendra grant malone, lavie tidhar, lily hoang, mark baumer, ben tanzer, krammer abrahams, joshua cohen, eugene lim, c. l. bledsoe, joanna ruocco, josh maday, & michael martone?
Or, uh WTF.
Buy it, people. ML Press.