Release of Mill Avenue Vexations Cranes

It's that time again! Another booklet has been published by Mill Avenue Vexations. This time something to cool the hearts of everyone who has been staring up at the now-constructing Centerpointe Towers and wondering what's going to happen to La Casa Vieja.

Condominums crop up like weeds, sprouting broad leaves among the wildflowers of Mill Ave and we're left staring upwards into the dark at the glitter of red lights on the cranes. Is this type of development the lifeblood of progress or the bêtise of our community?

I will be carrying at least 25 copies with me on Mill Avenue tomorrow night (Saturday, March 15th). Expect them. So, if you're out in the night wandering the Ave – I am pointing at thee, Jess – come and get one.

Technorati tags: mill avenue vexations, vex harrow, kyt dotson, construction, development, mill ave, mill avenue

Mill Avenue Nights: Saturday, March 9th - Marauding on Mill Ave

We had a lot of fun out there on Mill tonight.

But, to begin this story, I have to hearken back to the entire week that I spent on ASU campus. The most I’ve spent there in the past few years since I’ve started splitting my time between Michigan and Arizona. I don’t take classes there right now, but I wish that I still was, I love the academic atmosphere and I still have a lot of distance to go honing my discipline at English. Perhaps it’s time for me to actually put real time into studying the ancient masters.

This week on ASU I went to watch and study Brother Jed: a scary, fearmongering evangelical preacher who moves nomadically from campus to campus inciting anger and mockery with his abrasive, vitriolic campaign for the doctrine of his god, Jesus Christ. Of course, being the creature that I am, I brought with me a posse of atheists (mostly because one of them is who gives me rides places) and gleefully snowballed every theater major and interesting person that I could to help add to the carnival atmosphere of his visit – if for no other reason than to increase my own enjoyment or perhaps to make him more palatable while I sat.

News of this event was posted to the Mill Avenue Vexations news blog.

Mill last night certainly was a circus. I didn’t stay long to play with the preachers any more than usual, because I’m not out there to engage in the rabble with them – I’m there to study their effect on Mill Ave and I’d like to know them as people. Of course, the group gathered through the presence of Brother Jed also came.

Omar and his bullhorn created a lot of loud repartee. I got some notes on the subject, but was repeatedly forced to flee from the volume and the noise. Fortunately, there are numerous other regions of the Ave that interest me and need attention.

So, to escape the new confusion, I repaired to the drum circle, where I ended up settling to see people like Amish, Josh, Osiris, and others. A new group has been showing up on Mill of a few young people who named themselves after the Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Of course, there are less than seven of them so they happen to share names between the two groups from what I discovered – since I met, and chatted with Envy / Horseman Death for a little while.

I think that I’m going to be avoiding the preachers from now on; the rasping fête that is generated between the two groups is a little too much for me. Kazz and the troupe of atheists have them rather roughly handled, I think, and the dialogue there I am sure that I can study through their fliers and interviews will be more than enough.

There also have been some rumblings of potentially setting up a live debate between the two groups. I will probably attend that.

Here’s an excerpt from my notes from last night:

“The armies are marshalling, building on both sides. Handshakes and cordial greetings light up their faces—they prepare to take their places. The theists bow their heads in prayer and the atheists stand up proud. Voices are waiting in expectation and the thunder is gathering in watchful gazes.”

And to wrap it all up: one of the street preachers gave me a rose—which now lies on my desk right now.

I love roses.

Those Were the Days closing its doors

As many may know by now, Those Were The Days, antique bookstore on Mill Ave, is closing its doors forever.

I haven't had a chance to gather much information on them, nor prepare content to reflect their memory, but I will try to do so as soon as I can. I cannot get out to Mill but Saturdays and recent events have rather gotten up my nose with a vengence.

I will be carrying a camera at the Ave this come Saturday to get images of various aspects that I want in a comic book that I'm probably going to title: "Lost Mill Ave." A script is already written, but I don't know if I will include Those Were The Days or not.

As always, expect me between 9 p.m. and midnight. Camera, notebook, and shy smile.

Before I save tomorrow, I will record the past.

Mill Avenue Vexations Teaser Trailer

Teaser trailer for Mill Avenue Vexations using various covers and thus imagery of Vex Harrow. This is my first ever attempt at making a video file, there are some lovely (and strange) video editing junk out there and the one I used was extremely common.

I am thinking of doing some small bits on various elements of Mill Ave, so that once they're gone we have something to remember.

Release of Mill Avenue Vexations Volume 7 tomorrow

A pre-announcement on the release of Mill Avenue Vexations Volume 7 Doom in the Distance for tomorrow. I will be out on Mill probably between the hours of 9pm and 12am midnight passing them out. I have a batch of 50, but I will probably not carry quite that many with me.

For those looking for me, I tend between the street preachers in front of Urban Outfitters (or the post office), the Mill Ave drum circle, and Graffiti Shop. I will be wearing an outfit of Concost whites instead of my usual Whisper black garb in respect of Emmanuel's death earlier this week—since this is my people's mourning color. It should make me a bit more obvious than usual. Sadly, I do not have a white hat or gloves, so that'll be a little bit of a strange juxtaposition.

Below is a teaser of the cover for who might be interested.

 

Technorati tags: mill avenue vexations, vexations, kyt dotson, volume, mill ave

Requiescat In Pace, Emmanuel

I write this after I've learned that my friend, Emmanuel, has died. It is likely that few of my friends here know him, but I am recording my speech here nonetheless, lest my memory of him ever be forgotten. Those who read my blog will know of him as someone whose company I enjoyed greatly during outings to see the Street Preachers on the Ave.

Caidil e caidil e 's dhiot gach bron, Emmanuel.

Sleep, oh sleep without sorrow, Emmanuel.

- - -

It's not often that I have the need to write biographical speeches…and less so about someone that I cared about, found smiling in the Saturday Mill Ave lights, and now won't see there again.

So say "I barely knew you" rings hollow for anyone who likely knew him a lot longer, and a lot better than I. But here is my experience. 

As a person, Emmanuel was a welcome sight. Quick witted, truthful to his core, cheerful and thoughtful about his speech, his composure added something dramatic and driven to our little gatherings. Easy laughter and jocularity became the hallmark of his conversation and he used them often to soften the edge of his keen, curious intellect.

But the one thing that he left with the most of us – and what anyone who has spent time will them will carry away – is the warmth of his compassion and the comfort his company brought. 

Writing a speech like this is all about saying what perhaps doesn't need to be said, because everyone is already thinking it. I ask for everyone's indulgence by closing with what doesn't need to be said, because everyone listening already has it written on their hearts:

"Emmanuel, you will be missed." 

Kyt Dotson

Mill Avenue Nights, January 12th 2008

Strange weekend.

The street preachers moved from in front of Urban Outfitters to in front of the post office. In the past, this has actually been one of the places that other preachers would show up—the guys with the huge wooden cross. I haven’t seen them in a while. Of course, the Way of the Master folks can cheerfully take over that spot, it’s a good place for them. It appears they were displaced by a young man with an amp and a guitar.

A lot of interesting stuff happened tonight, so I’m going to try to cover it point by point again, but hopefully without losing to many people.

“Why don’t you atheists get your own corner?”

Kazz tells me that Lynda said this to someone in the crew. I’m pleased-as-punch, even if I am not atheist I still am filled up with joy about the dialogue that they’ve started with the preachers. It’s not about the disturbance that they create on the Ave—and the new presence of better hecklers and more disciplined dissenters is just a sign of that dissonance being noticed—it’s about the people that get brought up in the churn.

The preachers have been the only voice on their various corners for way too long. Here I’d say that they’ve gone unopposed for too long, but this isn’t exactly truthful. It creates a false sense of dichotomy, as if the street preachers are one of two voices, when they’re really one of millions and, in spite of the etymology of the word dialogue, there can be more than two parties involved.

The best part about the disruption that the street preachers create on the Ave is that the theater of the discussion between their amp and the newly added bullhorn creates an actual discourse. It requires the person with the amp (tonight it was Jeremiah again) to actually respond to the person with the bullhorn and it forces them to be part of the dialogue. They still tend to ignore a lot of questions in that slippery showman fashion, but at least it’s forging an actual forum rather than an ad hoc lecture.

But, really, what brings a smile to my lips happens behind the scenes, after the curtains fall. At about 11p.m. the preachers fold up and prance off, vanishing into the vehicles that brought them to the Ave (or they tuck into Starbucks for a while.) Without their mike and amp they become more personable, more like people; hecklers and preachers end up mingling and speaking to one another about personal lives, thoughts and ephemeral cheer. Very little animosity remains in the air, hands shake, and rivals take on a different level of discussion.

When the machine dismantles the components aren’t as hot-and-heavy anymore. At least then they’re people—which is what I come to the Ave for, after all, not for the moralizing lectures and sanctimonious priggery, but instead the reality of people and the wonder that is the story of their lives.

Where do good books come from, after all, but the humanity and the storytelling that binds life together.

This section is shorter than usual today because of…

Fred

Fred is the best thing about the night. She’s a tiny, slip of an emo chick, double-breasted black vest with a white “broken” heart, and raven-haired bowl cut—but the best part about her (aside form her gorgeous, giant spectacles of awesome) was the fact that when our eyes first met, and she smiled: I saw fangs.

Vampire fangs!

Nothing is going to catch my attention instantly than someone actually going out with a pair of acrylic appliqué fangs. The lovely thing about Goths who go with the fang look (or even emo) is that they can be kept as a subtle affect. If the person knows how to wear them, doesn’t spend their time drawing attention to them, normal conversation becomes a whole different experience. There’s no feeling quite like holding a giggling, grinning hanging-in-the-wind discussion with the leery looks of people making double-takes as they walk past.

Needless to say, I instantly delivered as many copies of Vexations into her hands as I possibly could. What can I say? There aren’t that many other Goths hanging around, and Emo are the new Goth as far as I’m concerned.

To say the least, I spent the three hours I should have been paying attention to the preachers and Mill instead paying attention to Fred. (Don’t worry about me, my research is fine. I did take a great deal of demographic notes and I’ve still got enough piled up from other nights to make up for a lapse. Why can’t I have fun some nights on Mill?)

She’s a chemical engineering major at ASU (a place that I wish that I was still a student at most days) and draws her own comic series. I cannot wait until she appears on DeviantART like she suggested she would. She even drew us some of her characters, who are interestingly thin figures similar to Johnen Vasquez’s Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. Just with a particularly straight-line-style emo flare. Also, her comix appear to feature a manic-depressive, suicidal vampire who just cannot seem to manage to kill himself (stakes don’t work, walking outside in the sun simply gives him a charbroiled sunburn, hanging fixes out-of-alignment vertebrae—some of which he received trying to run himself over with a truck…)

We managed a long talk about what it’s like living in Fountain Hills as a teen and why that’s a terrible experience for anyone. I certainly wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

She also managed to get herself booted from Bath and Bodyworks. Something about not buying anything and staring at other customers. This rather dampened our spirits later in the night when we decided that we were going to start an ad hoc coven right there in front of the street preachers (but for a lack of candles, which would have required braving B&B again…)

C’est la vie.

Cheers to another beautiful night on the Ave, and another day spent daydreaming and writing.

Psst. For those who want to know. Volume 7 is out of post-edit and is taking the finishing touches of artwork. So that’ll be appearing sooner rather than later.

Coyote Sightings

The sightings of coyotes this winter have been way up from normal. Over the past few weeks I've heard numerous reports from different people in the North Phoenix area that coyotes have been seen. I am fairly certain there has been more than one animal.

In fact, the sightings have been raised to the level of people posting on Craigslist.

Kazz, in fact, while he was walking the dogs spotted a coyote rambling through the streets of our little neighborhood. Of course, it abuts a region of actual desert here on the hard edge of the city, so that doesn't surprise me that much.

I believe that someone even rumored that one coyote had been seen near the fake lake in Tempe. Something that I'd already posited happening long ago.

Holiday Recovery

I'm still here. Really.

The last two Saturdays were indeed spent on the Ave, in my usual spot, offering up booklets to all onlookers and passersby. Notes are harder to come by because my fingers hurt.

I just haven't had a moment to retell the events of those days, which I will hopefully be getting on to when I have a chance. (And they'll be back dated after a week or so of letting them ride free on the blog.)

Gone is my Santa cap, which I wear primarily for Yuletide, and if I can only get my paws on a black fedora again, I'll be happy. Maybe I'll break tradition and wear a red fedora just to stand out (yes, a red hat on an all-black outfit, I should be obvious.) Nay, nay, I think what may end up happening is I'll end up with a tricorne pirate hat next round...

This is because Kazz wants to treat the street preachers to some good, loving noodly appendaged Flying Spaghetti Monster loving. And I have a "Kiss Me I'm a Pirate" t-shirt. So, apparently, I've been conscripted to be the cute-adorable-alternative to Kazz's usual brusque militant silhouette...

We'll see how that goes. I'm sure.

Mill Avenue Nights, December 15th 2007

It was cold.

I took the bus.

These two sentences do not actually have a causal relationship; they just accurately frame the beginning of this Saturday’s Mill Ave visit. I am not complaining—not loudly at least—but I think that I could see my breath. The chill in the air, I’m afraid, meant that I didn’t have much of a chance to use my pen and paper to scrawl down notes so I am working primarily from my own diligent memory.

After wandering the length and breadth of my beloved Ave, I finally settled around the drum circle where a girl (whose name escapes me) was selling tie-dye shirts. “Shirts make good Christmas presents; good presents make good friends!”

After spending some time with them, I made my way down to see Lawrence at the Graffiti Shop and to meet the author of the SociallyACCEPTABLE magazine. I had picked one up at Graffiti the weekend before and read it from front to back. The entire format is highly independent press, and they were offering advertising, so I figured, what the hell.

I ended up walking him down to where the drum circle usually takes place in order to show him where it happens.

Drum circle felt extremely sparse tonight. In fact, it was extremely sparse. I didn’t see half of the people that I normally see. I did hand out a great deal of booklets, and left three at Graffiti, I also have prints of Merry Vexing Christmas to hand out, which is only proper.

This finally brings us, of course, to the street preachers.

Today I lacked Kazz. Which means that I got to stand around and observe them in their “natural” element with little disturbance – oddly, Emanuel also didn’t show. Well, perhaps this is not that odd as he’s a college student at ASU and this is the dreaded Finals week, or, for those far more lucky: time to run away, run away home. (Like the ladybug.) Instead! Tonight the arrival of two new interesting parties caught my attention. People with bullhorn!

Yes, only one bullhorn, but two people.

Which proved to be fairly interesting because the preachers use a loudspeaker and a microphone and a bullhorn provides more than enough volume to counteract the “he who speaks the loudest is correct” atmosphere that crowd address produces. The real fun didn’t actually start until the preachers finally left for the evening (about 11p.m., which is boring because it leaves me with a few hours of no entertainment… No, I’m exaggerating. I usually just go back to the drum circle and sit next to one of my friends and listen to stories at that point.)

Tonight, however, the two young men with the bullhorn remained and decided to make up their own impromptu street preacher routine. Which included interesting statements. “The Church is not for you. Go somewhere else.” “God loves women, especially lesbians.” Among other equally amusing one liners directed at passersby and generally mocking the entire purpose of standing on a street corner with a bullhorn.

The drum circle, despite being sparse, did have some interesting characters. The number of rail jumpers has increased dramatically over the past few weeks, so I’ve been listening to people discuss what trains to catch, where, and how. Fingers pointed, limbs gesticulating. You can take a train headed east out of the train jungle over there and it’ll take you to Tucson and then eventually to San Francisco! I have received some promises from stories from street rats I have yet to know well.

Also, news of Helena, who is a sprightly lass that I met last winter—rather young, but extremely cute—who listened raptly with a charismatic smile (and I’d hoped to see her again this winter.) She was a little social butterfly and, as far as I could see, an excellent influence on everyone. I suppose that I enjoy her presence in no small part because she liked me. There is always something to be said about how much simple admiration can change an impression. (“Yeah, she really talked about you a lot.”) This all makes the news about her a little bit more dreadful.

Apparently, she’s ended up in a mental institution. Way back in either Alabama or Kentucky. That’s ominous news, she didn’t seem crazy to me…and being someone who spends a great deal of time on Mill, with a little experience of psychology, crazy is a little bit obvious. Of course, she is a street rat of indeterminate age…and I had my suspicions.

Sad. I need more perky, good listeners with interesting stories to talk to.

Next week I may not be able to make it out to Mill on Saturday. If I’m lucky, I’ll be there on Friday.

As always, keep an eye out for Vexations booklets in The Graffiti Shop!

And, well, when I’m on Mill all eyes on me. And stories, more stories.

Taglines

I just came up with another tagline for Vexations, tell me what you think:

Burning rubber where angels fear to tread.

And a poem:

Through the dry desert, across the painted sky; / Past the Mogollon forest, and under Coyote's watchful eye; / to Grandmother Spider's house we go!

Mill Avenue Nights, Saturday December 8th 2007

I am becoming cheerful of Emanuel’s company on Saturday’s when Kazz and he wait out their time amongst the street preachers. He’s intelligent, charming, and reflects a humor that I’ve seen lost on many people in my life. I think that I am extremely glad that Kazz met him. Of course, this extends the circle of atheists that I keep in my midst, so I think that this will create no shortfall of adventure in discussion on religion.

This Saturday, once again, felt cold to my bones, but it wasn’t as terrible as could have been expected—rain was forecast, a rain that did not crash down on us as we stood among the crowds of Mill. Sadly, we also arrived extremely late, which cut severely into my ability to peck out my usual haunts and check on the welfare of my charges…

The drum circle populated lightly and none of the usual haunts shook out many people to see, however, I did come bearing gifts: the preview release of Vexations Volume 6: Writing on the Wall (artwork visible after link).

I did get a couple booklets handed out, including one for Lawrence at the Graffiti Shop, because he’s special to me. Although, in retrospect, I probably should have remembered to sign it for him.

Interesting measures: I have come into possession of the response-tract to Kazz’s GOD LOVES SLAVERY tract. I have added it to my folder of tracts from Mill Ave, and I am going to include a timeline so that I can track this dialogue. To further that same dialogue, Kazz has produced another tract which develops the history of Christmas and its reflections in the Christian Bible. This time, he printed it in full, blazing color with a green Christmas tree on the front, and other colorful elements.

I wonder what the reply to that shall bring.

The street preachers seem a bit strained by our presence, I’ve noticed. They have started to speak out against Kazz’s tracts—telling people directly that they shouldn’t read his writing, “he’s a devil, [Emanuel,] you wouldn’t listen to a lying devil would you?” and such things as “throw that away, it’s not the truth.” To be pointed, this was all David speaking these words. When I was showing off Vexations and the Seasons works he refused to look at them—all the better, I fear that they would insult his sensibilities, which is why I don’t often offer my work to the preachers. They’re not exactly my audience.

Tension mounts, but I have my notepad and my camera.

 

Technorati tags: mill ave, mill avenue, preachers, vexations, atheism, christmas

Mill Avenue Nights, Saturday December 1st 2007

Tonight’s little narrative will start with our arrival at the Ave, which was slowed up slightly by discovering that people had noticed our little hidey-hole of a parking structure (no, I’m not telling where.) Kazz was forced to drive his brick-red SUV up an extra level to find a space—which caused some amusement when we returned at 2a.m., the place was mostly empty, and the vehicle wasn’t to be seen in our usual parking space.

The rainfall earlier in the day left a wet scrim of puddles and moisture on the sidewalks and buildings, but the best part about tonight was the closure of Mill Ave to motor traffic. It isn’t every day that a person can safely visit the circle of bricks in the middle of 5^th and Mill without being run down by a drunkenly driven bimbo-box. Today the shells of white tarp form the tents from the Art Fair. Which, I am told my the news, would not turtle itself due to the thunderstorm that rolled through that weekend.

The cold is into the mid 50s and just chilly enough to make my fingers ache as I clutch my Witch Hunter Robin messenger bag, the volumes sliding through numb fingers as I proffer them to attractive passersby.

Drum Circle

It took it a while to actually start up, to the point where the drum circle really only barely found its jive by the time we vacated the park in order avoid the baleful eye of the TPD and others. As always, it reformed out in front of the post office with the “No Loitering” sign sighing and drinking coffee bought from Starbucks across the street.

At one point during the evening Remy and a gaggle of other Mill rats stumbled past a warning on his lips, “A friend of mine – in with the cops – came and warned me that they were going to sweep through there, so be careful and don’t attract attention. Not that you usually do.”

So, of course, Kazz, Emanuel, and I went down to drum circle so that I could report on the cops “sweeping through” and catching people who attracted attention. We waited almost an hour (up until midnight exodus) and were met with a disappointing anticlimax. No cops. No sweep. Nothing so much as a peep of activity for my pen to eviscerate.

The Demographics of a Football Game Night

ASU vs. UofA? I don’t know. Football really doesn’t spin my wheels, but the people who crowd to these games do. So, after the finale of spattered fireworks lit up our eyes and deafened our ears, the Sun Devil stadium’s vomitoriums sluiced forth their spillage of humanity onto the shores of Mill Ave.

Mostly college age folks and some in their thirties take task to the Ave and wander past cheering together. Motley bunches of brightly plumed costumes (the maroon and gold prominent on sweaters) cheering and jeering their favorite team names. A fight even broke out near the preachers—the police intervened and it ended without much incident. Later on we saw a pack of TEAM leading an irate woman away from the area of Tempe City Hall (the upside-down pyramid.)

Street Preachers

An event that almost every social anthropologist watches for happened tonight with the street preachers—I discovered a cultural dialogue happening! This story starts during the previous Saturday (one that I neglected to properly blog.)

Kazz decided to take his atheist mores and approach the people talking to the street preachers with better and more defensible tracts than he did before. After poring over numerous documents he developed a quote-by-quote rendering of the King James Version Bible that directly supported the premise – and gloating title of the tract – “GOD LOVES SLAVERY.”

Once again, I let this develop on its own. Kazz and Emanuel passed out these tracts to passersby and even the preachers (one of whom, David, I believe, commented, “I want to read these lies for myself.”) This night he approached me with questions such as, “You didn’t read those did you? They’re perverting the Truth.” I have some qualms about this sort of attitude that I’ll get into later, now onto the dialogue.

One of the preachers—whose name I do not know—printed up some triple-length-fold-overhand tracts with a cute little ASCII cross and some equally ASCII art Jesus fish stating: “The Bible does condemn slavery.” In one week, these were written, produced, and printed in response to Kazz’s tracts! They are a new work. They attempt to speak to the direct KJV quotes from Kazz’s SLAVERY tracts. However, they also seem to ramble off into weird directions such as talking about Muslim slavery and then finally stagger into dark territory with the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

To document this dialogue fully I will have to get copies of both of these tracts and get them scanned in (and, I hope, permission to post them.) The real warp and weft of communities and cliques is visible where they rub up against each other, this is a brilliant example of one of those evanescent events. My next mission will be to talk to the originator of the counter-tract and get his take on the production of his reply and why he decided to go that route.

As I promised, my thoughts on “perverting the Truth.” Yes, Truth with a capital ‘T’. Why? Because when one of these people says the word they mean absolute, incontrovertible veracity in a supernatural sense Truth. And, of course, he’s referring to the dogmatic Christian Bible and the direct quotes from KJV that Kazz reflected in his SLAVERY tract. I looked at his straight and said,

“My people don’t hold up your Bible as a credible source. So, no, I don’t believe those quoted scriptures. Yes, I did read it. And, doesn’t it make you feel a little bit queasy that you have a supposed Truth that can be ‘perverted’ by directly quoting it?” This brings me distinctly, in fact, to one of my favorite dogmatic cop-outs that is designed to cover this exact eventuality (someone else using the Bible to disagree with you.

“The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.”

This quote is scintillating in its sheer insidiousness; easily comparing a detractor, who, quoting directly from the same holy book as they, to the personification of all evil—that Adversary of YHVH (or more properly humanity, being that Satan is supposedly prosecuting counsel in a celestial court...) But, in all its elegance it reflects a thunderously worrisome fact: not only can the devil quote it for his own purpose, people can too! It’s one thing when a supernatural power, quintessential to the very inner-workings of morality can warp the Truth into verisimilitude (being that it’s a supernatural Truth after all) but it’s totally another when the mundane, feeble mortals who toil beneath the benevolent gaze of the Lord can do exactly the same thing.

What kind of a moral authority is this that can be so easily turned against itself without even the supernatural leverage of a super-being?

I don’t quite know the answer but it concerns me greatly. The best way to knock down this behavior, of course, still remains critically examining even this holy book, not as the Truth, but as an ancillary tradition that reflects the history of the Christian people. And by this day and age it’s an ancient history. One that updates poorly to contemporary values because when treated as a Truth (including the reprehensible commands and laws from the Old Testament) practitioners are barred from modifying—and sometimes rationally thinking about—how this affects their daily lives and the lives of others.

“Don’t stop thinking.” Kazz’s tracts end. They may be dark criticism of extremely bad attitudes promulgated by ancient bigotry enshrined forever in a holy book, but the conclusion is still the important seed to take away. It’s not his job to give you something better; it’s your job not to do or facilitate evil.

Think about it is sound advice.

Technorati tags: mill ave, mill avenue, preachers, asu, football, game night

Hello Cory: Fan fiction and remix culture

I don't even know how to preface this...

HOLY CRAP!

So, I decided to get over being timid and send in my story, Hello Cory, to Cory Doctorow at Boing Boing and he put a link to it up on his blog.

Then, today I get in from going out to Mill, and check to see if anyone has commented -- and it seems that someone has made an mp3 of it!

I am really tired and wiped out from my Mill visitation and I normally don't post this late, but my thanks goes out to Paul Parkinson for adapting the story for audio...

(Suddenly I wish that I had edited it better.)

More power to Creative Commons.

So happy.

Goodnight folks. Adieu and have wonderful dreams.

Vex Harrow in Twilight and Thorns, Dec 1st 2007

Upcoming horror anthology, Twilight and Thorns published by Circle Dark Publishing will contain a Vexations story starring Vex Harrow and her taxi! Full news story over at the Mill Avenue Vexations news blog.

The cover, you can see immediately to the right, was just released yesterday and the full anthology will be published in e-book format this upcoming Saturday, the 1st of December. Since most of my fans have access to computers, I hope that they will take a moment of their day to look over the stories available in this anthology and possibly purchase.

"Step On It" by Kyt Dotson, starring Vex Harrow, is only available in the Twilight and Thorns anthology.

Technorati tags: vex harrow, kytdotson, circle dark publishing, mill avenue vexations, taxi, fiction

Hello Cory aka I get strange at 2a.m.

Introducing Hello Cory by Kyt Dotson. Thou can find the full text over at Vexations.

Here's a small snip of the text:

That’s when I saw him. An uncanny wind kicked up, blowing dust and desert debris across the road and caught his crimson cape with an almost-superhero snapshot pose as he leaned into the gale.

He saw me, waved, and managed a shrill cab-call whistle. Having turned to face me, I could see that aside from the dashing red cape, he also wore a pair of blue goggles. Even if I had considered passing him up, the sheer novelty of his costume compelled me to pull to a stop only a few car lengths past.

The radio, which had been playing something guttural and death-metal on my drive out of AJ, abruptly switched to a piano ditty that reminded me of a Prohibition era Speakeasy riddled with the pops and cracks of static. The door opened and entered my newest fare—goggles pushed up onto his broad forehead, now nestled in his close-cut hair and red cape yanked in as he closed the door against the night.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” he said, “that you have an EFF sticker on the back of your cab.”

Link, via Mill Avenue Vexations

Taxi!

I've spent the better part of a week and a half reading this book: Taxi! A Social History of the New York Cabdriver. For the most part, this is a title that delivers. It's a long, well researched, jaunt across the eras from the original cabbies of New York emergence in 1907 to the contemporary industry of 2006.

Overall the chapters are extremely dry. This is a history book, it makes no pretenses of being anything else. And there is the odd gross grammar error and edit glitch to smirk at here and there. I did enjoy mostly the anecdotes peppered throughout the text. However, they are too spare to really make it light reading. For those looking for a comprehensive look at the evolution of this industry in New York, this is probably the book. The beginning few chapters cover decade spans each, attempting to convey the brimming emotions and zeitgeist prevalent to the era.

Both industry/union strikes and the legislation that lead to certain elements of the modern day career are developed. The slang and the attitudes of both cabbies and the public are discussed. And some of my favorite parts of the text involve the popular portrayals of cabdrivers in movies. I will probably try to purchase some of these films and TV shows to draw more ideas for Vexations.

The image of the cover is a link to the book at Amazon.com. I suggest anyone who has any interest in these interesting people who prowl the city streets, providing that last link in transit to many millions of people a year, get it and read it.

I gravitated to this book because of Ms. Vex Harrow's taxi driving experiences. I already read Mean Streets, but that didn't give me a lot of comprehension of the history of a whole. While New York City isn't much like Phoenix – or so I gather – it is another large city and some of its problems will be reflected here. Her taxi isn't supposed to be just some paper-mâché backdrop, it’s her lifeline, and my best method for bringing the audience into Phoenix.

I have a lot of experience riding in cabs, but not driving them. It is, therefore, necessary for me to bridge those gaps.

Who is more free on the streets than a taxi cab driver? Catching fares from various areas and conveying them to and fro with a veteran ease. They are blurry birds, acute in their apprehension of the motion of traffic and the layout of the city. If there is a heartbeat driving those arteries, they’d know it. It’s the perfect place for someone like Vex to gaze at the motions of the city around her—it gives me the perfect chance to move the world through the backseat of her cab and deliver their hearts, minds, and lifelines to the audience through her senses.

And it gives me numerous, less-than-contrived, entrances to the otherworldly wonders that Phoenix possesses.

And everyone is invited.

Mill Avenue Nights, Saturday November 17th

Tonight, tonight… Things went a little differently. Our first order of business—with Kazz at the helm of the red SUV he and his lovely kaywng drive—we bopped on down to my favorite drag after making a brief stop off to collect another companion in these escapades: Omni. The thought was, at least on Kazz’s part, that if Omni didn’t awaken by 9p.m. and we did not arrive to collect him in person, he would be standing us up again as he did the last two times.

That ended up working out extremely well and sadly doesn’t make a good story especially during a bleary-eyed morning after hitting the Ave.

Kazz has been showing his atheist streak and has been agitating for some anti-tracts to be able to pass out to combat the tracts that the preachers pass out. Talk about the development of an ever more complex immune-system metaphor. So, in plying my own efforts, I tried to hunt down some cultural criticism that pokes directly at the arguments they use and the pamphlets that they themselves print. It was difficult to find anything on short notice but I did grab some things and we printed out some forty of them. However, I didn’t find the discussing in them altogether socially compelling (you could read it here) and while Kazz agreed he carried them anyway.

However, he inevitably balked at handing any of them out.

Jeremiah and Todd

The real fun arrived because a very familiar face joined the preachers: Jeremiah. He usually comes with an easel and a series of laminated posters proclaiming the same wrong, tired arguments year after year. One of my favorite is still the poster proclaiming how Kent Hovind is offering $250,000 for someone who can provide empirical evidence supporting the theory of evolution. The argument goes that, in spite of mounting evidence supporting the scientific theory, nobody has yet been able to claim the money. Thus: evolution is obviously wrong. Else someone would be two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars richer. Right? Well, if that logic follows, then I’d like to point out that Cory Doctorow, et al. are offering one million dollars to anyone who can provide empirical evidence that Jesus is not the son of the Flying Spaghetti Monster (the deity of Pastafarianism.) In spite of this gigantic amount of money dangling tantalizingly, nobody has stepped forward to claim it. Thus: Jesus must obviously be the son of the Flying Spaghetti monster. (Which I figure most people who want to wield the previous challenge would say is preposterous.)

Why exactly the street preachers feel that entering into the ID vs. evolution debate actually does their positions on other things any actual credit, I’m not sure. Jeremiah could at least use a more honest approach.

Never fear! Todd is here! Shortly after Jeremiah took to the stand (and I got my moment to actually greet him), Todd materialized from the Mill Ave crowds. Todd is another highly charged atheist fellow who lends his bellowing lungs and encompassing arm motions to take over Jeremiah’s forum. In fact, when first noticing that Jeremiah had returned to the Ave, people wondered aloud how far behind Todd could be.

Once all that got into full swing, I left the preachers, Todd, and Kazz to their own devices. Since I don’t really hit Mill to be a mouthpiece for either philosophy. I’m down here to hand out Vexations, observe the culture, and actually get to meet people. While the abrasion against the arterial flow of the Ave is a good place for this—they provide a narrowing of the stream that slows down traffic and puts likely people within my range of observation—places like the drum circle, the various spray painters, and other entertainers make equally good fishing spots.

Dawn

Out of the various characters that I made acquaintance with that night, I saw a face I haven’t seen in a while: Dawn.

She’s an old Mill rat who used to sell hand-made hemp necklaces out of the brick planter near to the Urban Outfitters (where the preachers set up.) I like her because she has a calm, hippy chick chic comportment and embodies a nature I’d like to see more of on the Ave. She brought me harrowing news of greater harassment from the police towards people who sell their wares (such as hers) on the Ave. Over the summer of my absence, she had been threatened with arrest if she continued. I am hoping to gather more stories from her about this behavior (dates, times) and compare notes with other activists to see what the City has been up to. Other interesting things of note is that the City has gone out of its way to make it more difficult for people to actually be on the Ave by removing places to sit and those very planters that I was referring to above.

Lakeside

The night culminated in a walk through the Hayden’s Ferry Lakeside multipurpose projects…or whatever they’re called. It’s that region of condominiums and office buildings immediately abutting the fake lake. It may not have the same draw as Mill for people, but we discovered a constant clutter of individuals moving in and out. Some on foot, some on bikes, and the odd police car prowling the dark without headlight crunching in the gravel.

The Saga of the Lost Cell Phone

One particular event played itself out in that we discovered a cell phone, fallen in the gutter, with some jewelry out near Monti’s. Kazz plucked it up as we went along while we tried to determine exactly what to do with it (it’s not like the Ave exactly has a Lost & Found.)

So, I suggested that he check the address book, perhaps it would garner some clues on how to contact the person. While he was doing this the phone began to ring and he answered, it seemed the people who had dropped it realized that it was missing. I heard Kazz talking on it and noticed a pair of people—a boy and a girl—racing quickly down the sidewalk across the street, one of them had a cell phone in hand.

“Where are you at?” Kazz asks.

“I think, I found them,” I said. “They’re right across the street. Tell them that I’m holding my cane up. Everyone turn back, they’re over by Monti’s.”

“Hey, maybe now you can go and have your moment!” Kazz said, dripping sarcasm. He’s trying to make a joke about a comment about Michael Monti once being quoted as saying that nobody had told him, “I had a personally changing moment leaning against your adobe wall.”

Well, it wasn’t exactly that moving, but we returned an important personal item to a young lady leaning against that adobe wall. I’m not going to pretend it was anything more than good citizenship, I’m just glad it worked out so well. The prospect of actually calling entries in someone else’s cell phone is a little daunting. What do you say to “Dad” when you call him? “I found your son/daughter’s cell phone and I’m trying to return it.” Talk about a little awkward.

Between Todd, Jeremiah, the street preachers, seeing some fans of Vexations, and the saga of the cell phone, this Saturday turned out to be a good day indeed.

 

Technorati tags: mill ave, mill avenue, street preachers, hayden's ferry

Special Edition Volume 5 Booklets In

We have just gotten in a small supply of full color Mill Avenue Vexations Volume 5: Drum Circle booklets. There is a very limited supply, and these are essentially special editions in that I am going to sell them to interested parties for a notable sum ($10 which is certainly more than I sell normal booklets.) This is primarily so that I can recoup some of the cost for printing usual volumes, since 90% of the cost will go to future booklet printing runs anyway (whereas part of the price might just get me soda or something.)

Must feed book habit!

Also, I notice that I totally neglected to announce the release of Volume 5 on this blog. How dreadful of me. Although, I have a feeling that most readers of this blog already know about it (from regularly visiting the Vexations News blog, hint hint) but I shouldn’t leave the wholesome few who keep this on their lists.

So. Even though the very-next-announcement will probably be about Volume 6… Mill Avenue Vexations Volume 5: Drum Circle by Kyt Dotson has been released to print, to PDF e-book, and to the web! Featuring our rising star taxicab driver, Vex Harrow, and all manner of misfortune due to hit the metropolitan area of Tempe and Phoenix. This volume also loudly features the Mill Ave drum circle (in one chapter) in order to give readers a clear view of the geography and the social makeup of the setting.

Liberal sprinkling of poetic license reserved by the author.

The extremely lovely cover featured is by Nicole Cardiff, and this isn’t the first time Vexations has had artwork by her (she also did the cover for The Byzantium Outcast.) With new, and beautiful, chapter illustrations by Alan Gallo.

Keep a look out for Vexations Volume 6 and the Seasons collectable cards.

 

Technorati tags: vex harrow, kyt dotson, mill avenue vexations, mill ave, mill avenue, nicole cardiff, alan gallo, special editions

Not the Daily Show, the Writers' Strike

Most people who know me, know that I'm a writer. Everyone else probably also knows that there's a writers' strike going down in Hollywood and that a number of prime time TV shows are enmeshed in this kerfuffle that have shoved them directly into reruns.

I found this wonderful video via an article on Boing Boing.

I may not be the type of writer these people are (I'm a novelist, not a screenwriter) but anyone who works for money can empahtize with this plight. Especially anyone who works in an evolving industry, or scrapes up against one.

All told, the video is hilarious, and I am so glad that the Daily Show's host John Stewart promised to help his writers out even as they strike.

So, watch, laugh, and read up on this strike. if you enjoy the witty banter and dramatic lines of the entertainment industry, this may as well matter to you, because the behavior of these entertainment moguls to their content producers is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

Technorati tags: writer's strike, viacom, writer, boing boing, youtube