You can‘t get Oblique Strategies on your fucking iPhone.

For those without what, there is the Mac OSX Widget.

For those without that, there is the World Wide Web.

There is no writer’s block. Except in your mind maybe.

So is the published work the apotheosis of the work, or its death? Or both? Does it die to you the moment it lives for others? Or is it then born? Or reborn? When and where does the work best live? Oh I’m so tidbitty lately, so curious.

RIP, Frank Kermode. This was a deeply important book to me circa 2006-2007.

Christian Lorentzen profiles Tao Lin for the New York Observer, writing in a ‘parody of his style.’ What do you think, did he nail it?

Which writer would you most like to read a memoir from who hasn’t done it yet and maybe probably won’t?

All this time and then we find out Tao Lin has really just been Chris Burden (see object #1, Send Me Your Money). He might also be that dude in the question mark coat.

On her Facebook page The Housing Works Blog, Rachel Fershleiser asks: Which authors’ next books are you sure to read whether or not the subject matter interests you at all?

What you do consider a ‘love story’? What’s the last great one you read?

Dickens: Unhappy.

Childhood: Happy or Unhappy?

Porn For The Blind is a nonprofit organization recording verbal descriptions of sample movie clips from porn websites, also inviting users to submit their own descriptions [via Ubu]. I know what I’m doing tonight.