Friday, October 2, 2009
A couple of weeks ago I was approached by the good people at Jet Magazine to do an interview regarding the "Influence of Blogging in Black America." For reasons that are unimportant the offer was ultimately withdrawn, but I decided to continue with the interview (without the needless distraction of another person) for the edification of all involved; and, perhaps, humanity at large.
Steve (with an affected British accent): Don't you think that the idea of interviewing yourself on your own blog is frankly masturbatory, even by your own promiscuously liberal standards?
Steve: Yes, but I haven't written anything in nearly a year and am starting to worry about losing my creative mojo.
Steve: Yes, but that implies that you once had a creative mojo. Is that necessarily true?
Steve: Are you going to use that accent for this whole thing?
Steve: Don't deflect.
Steve: I don't know if I can assess myself accurately, but I think I've got some game.
Steve: Right, but isn't that the very reason that the internet is full to overflowing with the lunatic ramblings of everyone who has some spare time and $17 a month for a DSL? Because they believe they have some game?
Steve: Sure, but I treat it as a lark. It's just a fun way to play with some ideas I have that don't fit anywhere else.
Steve: But by treating it as a lark aren't you merely trying to protect yourself against potential criticism?
Steve: Probably. But it is just a blog.
Steve: Well, what about your music?
Steve: What about my music?
Steve: Haven't you kept your music hidden for similar reasons?
Steve: Right now I am in the process of getting my music out through a band that I am in.
Steve: Yeah, but what are you? Forty-seven?
Steve: I'm Forty-three.
Steve: Same thing. What the readers of Jet would like to know...
Steve: This isn't for Jet anymore.
Steve: I know, just go with me. What the readers of Jet would like to know is: What took you so long? And...
Steve: Can I answer?
Steve: AND.... Are you sure you are even going to be able to do what you say without making an abortion out of the whole thing?
Steve: I'll answer the second question first. No. As far as your other question, I was hoping that upon my death people would discover the songs on my computer and, Emily Dickinson style, preserve and praise them throughout human history.
Steve: Jesus Fucking Christ!
Steve: You asked.
Steve: I know, but isn't that just a slightly more elaborate way of indulging your cowardice? When you are dead, there won't be a you there to appreciate any praise OR to be hurt by any indifference.
Steve: Well, like I said, I'm trying to get it out there now.
Steve: And what is your assessment of your music?
Steve: I think it is unique, strong, and maybe a little too idiosyncratic.
Steve: I can't lie to you.
Steve: Sure you can. You do it all the time.
Steve: I stand by my assessment.
Steve: Fair enough. So, how is your love life?
Steve: Calm. Sporadic.
Steve: By love I mean sex.
Steve: Calm. Sporadic.
Steve: Do I really need to push you on this?
Steve: It's like the old AA saying. One is too much, ten thousand isn't enough.
Steve: Cute. But I suspect that you just can't stand the fact that other actual people are just more difficult to manage, and to understand, than the energetic, free-thinking, lesbians that you conjure in your mind.
Steve: Well, they aren't true lesbians, but I get your drift. I think there is an innate fear of people within me that seems to be connected with my innate loathing of them.
Steve: And, by extension, your innate loathing of yourself?
Steve: Ha, sure, a little. It is more of an ambivalence. I don't know what to make of my unconscious mind or its role in my decision making processes. I mean, if I am not in control of my own actions then what hope do I have with a largely indifferent, if not hostile, universe?
Steve: You mean like the tooth thing in that book?
Steve: The readers might not know what we are talking about.
Steve: It doesn't matter.
Steve: OK. You are clearly not going to elaborate on this any further. Do you have a philosophy of life?
Steve: I'm glad you asked. This is how I see human existence. Picture the...
Steve: Yeah, you've been waiting for this the whole time. I hate it when you do that to me.
Steve: It was your idea.
Steve: Go on.
Steve: This is it. Picture the most impossibly cute little girl that you could ever imagine, (beautiful clear eyes, a white dress, a warm carefree laugh) and know that every single day, without exception, she shits.
Steve: And what am I supposed to make of that?
Steve: That that is what we are. It is the best we can hope to be. Creatures capable of such astounding beauty, poignancy, resonance and joy, and that all of it is deformed by our inability to come to terms with the sheer brutal fact of our animal nature; the pustules and dark thoughts, the vulnerability in the hands of capricious circumstance, the directionless void, both internal and external, the...
Steve: If you start quoting Nietzsche, this interview is over.
Steve: I made my point.
Steve: Right. Then why don't you kill yourself?
Steve: It might hurt.
Steve: Don't be glib.
Steve: Well, in a way I am. I am just taking the long route. I took up smoking, I drink like a Russian nanny, my diet consists primarily of cheesecake and chicken skin, and my financial acumen is hopeless to the point of folly. But there are conflicting impulses. I still play tennis, write songs, and go out every day thinking that I might run into somebody who will let me put my penis in their vagina.
Steve: And you just got paid.
Steve: Yes! Of course I'll end up buying several ancient French horns which I will accidentally ding up and then have to sell, at a tremendous markdown, sometime near the end of the month so that I can feed myself.
Steve: Also, I can think of at least one person who will think that your take on drinking is a gross rationalization.
Steve: He might be right, but without rationalization I would have been gone long ago.
Steve: Which is another rationalization.
Steve: See? You're getting it.
Steve: Just a couple of other questions. What do you think of birds?
Steve: I hate them.
Steve: Do you also genuinely hate midgets?
Steve: No, I'm just happier when they are not around.
Steve: What's the deal with your fascination with pubic hair?
Steve: I have no idea.
Steve: Any regrets?
Steve: I have eleven regrets.
Steve: Thank you.
Steve: Thank you.