October | 2010 | HTMLGIANT | Page 6

October 2010

Sean Lovelace—

To the clever person introducing the poet: Shut the fuck up. To the poet: Read the poems.

Two Obituaries: Publishing Genius & Anderbo

Publishing Genius (March 13, 2007 – October 27, 2010) Publishing Genius suffered a fatal brain aneurysm under the presumptive posthumous auspices of its genius ridden editor, Adam Robinson, whose genius/molester glasses did little to deter his underage contributors, whose logical conclusion was that being published at such place meant it was so. From chapbook genius, to everyday genius, to the genius of sticking poems (aka “gay tagging”) in or around Baltimore, one wonders how Robinson’s head could not have exploded. Their genius poster-boy Shane Jones will be hosting an all night vigil in February, in a fable-like unnamed town somewhat characteristic of upstate New York, in which precious things happen; February lasts forever, so those who are undecided about braving the snow to meet Shane Jones and his authorly beard can afford to wait. A private cremation of all ignored manuscripts will take place inside the fiery chests of those whom Robinson geniusly rejected.

—

Anderbo (March 2, 2005 – October 27, 2010) Anderbo was stabbed in the server to death by a near-sighted ironist who mistook them for mcsweeneys.net due to their almost identical formatting (12 pt. Times New Roman, em dash/italics heavy, wide margins). Confused about the internet’s URL implicitness, Anderbo obstinately called their website “anderbo.com,” afraid their readers would not know how to get there. Anderbo is survived by a massive masthead which includes: twelve associate editors, thirteen editors at large, a features editor, a managing editor, an associate publisher, a senior editor, and finally, an editor-in-chief, whose inferiority complex is, well, complex. Short of a staff meeting, they have opted for a large roman style orgy—and so, donations will be accepted in the form of condoms, laurels, robes, and pizza. Beautiful, kind, and generous to a fault, their “Director of Online Publicity and Outreach” will appreciate this link to the recently perished. Prior the imminent traffic, they thought “hits” was something only Michael Bolton had.

Mean / 11 Comments
October 26th, 2010 / 12:32 pm

Ryan Call

Obituary Prize

We’re posting obituaries throughout Mean Week and wanted to invite you to email us your own or post in comments. Kill us, kill your favorite press, kill an author you hate, do whatever. We’ll post some of the ones we like, sure sure, and whoever writes our favorite will receive a few books for the trouble: Dear Everybody by Michael Kimball, The Pharmacist’s Mate by Amy Fusselman, and Ghost Machine by Ben Mirov. Deadline, Thursday at 11:59 PM CST.

Contests / 3 Comments
October 26th, 2010 / 11:50 am

Justin Taylor

GIANT EXCERPT: “There’s a Road to Everywhere Except for Where You Came From” by Bryan Charles

[FYI: I know it’s Mean Week, but here’s something not mean. Bryan Charles’s memoir will be published by Open City Books in November. New York folks, Charles reads with Ed Park at the KGB Bar on Wednesday, 10/27. – JT]

I received a box of business cards that said BRYAN A. CHARLES, STAFF WRITER. I sent one to my mother and she was delighted. I started reading the Wall Street Journal and various financial websites, learning the biz. I made sure Clara saw the Journal open on my desk every morning. Occasionally if I felt comfortable I’d mention an article or some topic of interest to the markets generally. I ran drafts of my “Thinking Primarily About Mutual Funds” piece by Peter, the senior writer. He was in his early thirties, had been at the game a while, and had a great gift. Peter could open his mouth and speak fully formed marketing sentences. But there was an irony in his manner that subtly conveyed the absurdity of our task. Peter taught me that financial services involved pushing and repackaging and reselling the same few concepts: diversification, buying a new home, saving for your children’s college education or your own retirement. But the bedrock tenets of financial marketing were stressing the importance of taking a long-term view and encouraging investors to consult financial advisors.

3 Obituaries: Elimae, WWAATD, Online Lit

elimae (1996-2010) was eliminated from this world due to fatal complications resulting from a malfunction in its bullshit detector. Efforts to resuscitate the detector failed; insiders who wish to remain anonymous told us, “The detector was just too delicately calibrated to be saved. It was the only thing keeping the magazine from publishing truly random word salad bullshit.” Sources concur that the detector was the secret weapon that allowed editors Cooper Renner and Kim Chinquee to respond to submissions within a week, usually much sooner. “No human acting alone can sift such gems out of so much masturbatory bullshit that quickly,” said an industry insider. As-yet-unconfirmed rumors report that the cause of the malfunction was a $1.2M re-engineering project that would have enabled the detector to reject realism-oriented writers who were even just thinking about submitting to the esteemed journal. Details continue to come to light.

We Who Are About to Die (March 2010-October 2010) just did. The group lit blog was fatally shot by the internet police while attempting to carry out a large-scale but covert fratricide and patricide on other group lit blogs, including but not limited to HTML Giant, The Rumpus, and Montevidayo. The internet cops involved in the operation seemed disoriented and unable to verbalize exactly what went down, but one made a valiant attempt: “It said it wanted all these things to go away or stop, but it, itself, was or did all those very same things, and it admitted that kind of, but still.” Another cop added, “You gotta just own it, you know? If you just own it, these things wouldn’t happen.” An autopsy revealed that had the gunfire not killed the blog, it would have indeed died soon enough. The coroner’s report elaborated, “The blog’s acronym was found to be malformed, or, in layman’s terms, really annoying. Plus, nobody could ever diagnose what those prank calls were about.” None of the intended targets of WWAWAATWD’s killing spree were injured in the slightest, even symbolically.

Online lit journals in general (1996-2010) met a tragic end in an apparent case of criminal neglect on the part of everyone who wasn’t in the current issue of one of them or planning to submit very soon. The exact time of death is unknown; at first, many writers just figured the new issues were just a little late going live, and nobody else noticed for as much as a month. The death was a shock to many who had long predicted the demise of print publications. “It seems like just yesterday that I was looking at online proofs for four different journals that I was supposed to be in. And now all my last-minute revisions will never find their audience.” said one mourner. More philosophically, a source who claims to be a “veteran” of what he calls “the scene,” noted, “I guess nobody reads online journals, either. People would “like” it on facebook if you linked to a journal you’re in, but maybe they weren’t clicking on the links. I probably have enough online cred already anyway. But I will miss being solicited.” 12 of the source’s friends “liked” this comment.

Some argue for classifying the death an accidental mass suicide. Some editors simply forgot to put up new issues; others report intending to get to it after actually working on their writing for a change. “Everyone got so carried away with encouraging people to buy from small presses that nobody remembered to look at all the free shit online,” charged an anonymous source. The survivors of the deceased request money in lieu of flowers.