I removed the e-book because I was just messing around and learning the process, and so to those eight people who bought it, send me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll send you a free physical book in the mail of More adventures of a dying young man book a. It was only a test and there were some obvious mistakes. I’ll make it up to you, but I guess it doesn’t really matter because it was only two bucks, and what can you get for two bucks these days, exactly, a cheap brew. That’s what those words were. A cheap brew that tasted good enough. Anyway, here’s some new material that will be found in Notebooks & Three-Dimensional Boxes Writing from the years 2005-2013, and I’m really excited about this new book. I’m having a bit of fun again working with old spontaneous prose. After this one is done it’s back to the straight fiction and dead writers. Vacation has been more productive than normal, but I just want the holidays over with, having a celebration on Wednesdays in the middle of the week just throws everything out of whack. lol. whack is a funny word. Peace. thanks for reading.
Henry Miller…this is really the mutation of your art, this is really your America, and so back then…finding your Tropic and your Cancer, your Black Spring and your Air Conditioned Nightmare, and when they found out they went and be done and be gone and off they were as they went by boxcar and these kids and these orphans of America ended-up as west as you can go without swimming in the pacific, and some of them ended up at the Golden Gate Bridge and some said it’s a wasteland and killed themselves because…just so many reasons. Some of these young people became old people and were ugly when they forgot and became the same ol’ mere material of things and I think it was only the thought of death which killed them…but I don’t know because I’m not them…but empirically thinking it seems like they ended up falling in love with defeat. And Henry Miller, I hope I don’t die like that… No… I won’t. You wouldn’t die like that. You wouldn’t die happy because you knew that the fight would never be over, but back then they lost their cool, and the kids and the beat and the maggots forgot and some of them were cowards and they lacked the courage that life asks of the writer and people tell me that you’re dramatic (me) and what the fuck does that even mean because life is dramatic I tell them, that’s my retort to their lazy self-education and maybe I shouldn’t use so many bad words but I get mad and people need to take life seriously, and after all, these are only bad words and not real bullets but this life… LIFE is important. Make yourself happy and be real and create above the future art and just please live because this is all you get, and why not? Why be anything…and that’s what they found in your words Mr. Miller. They found a reason to live and then some traded your words after they traded old testaments for yours and then some of them fell for Zen and then hated Zen and then started universities after they dropped out of universities, and some became judges after they were judged, and some of these writing sons and daughters of yours said they were going and they did go, and then they became men and women and owners of shops and then they forgot how it was a struggle and they didn’t bother to tell their children how they made it and how hard it was, and holy shit brother man this is some new kind of joy they found, and that’s what they said…crazy love like a Buddha squirrel on a warm winter day… and they did all of this after they found your words and went and traveled all the way from the Brooklyn Bridge and in the cold hell they came from New York City and some of them left ma and pa alone in dead small towns and ran away from home to discover (as it turns out) that many of them only left old love to find new love which was really only the memory of the old love which they ran away from in the first place, and I’m positive that they were in love with America because of you and they ended up at a place that is in grave scientific danger of falling into the ocean. HA! Seriously Miller, and I aint kidding when I say and type to you old dead man that I’m told this could happen and did you know that the end is near and that some bloody bad times could go down in an hour or two and it’s weird because the truth is very weird, and I’ll tell you what’s going on and the last Governor of the State of California was an action figure (toy) that was called the terminator (a killer robot)…and this isn’t no joke, this is real life and I’m serious Miller that it’s a fact that he was a time traveling robot and really put the fear in my head when I was a kid. So…I woke-up in the backseat at a drive-in movie-theater to the visuals of bloody cops and pumped shotguns while he was asking for a boy who would end the machine-human war. The governor was shooting at kids and he only had half a human face because his skin was only a shell of a real man, and I remember that I asked to go home and was told to go for a walk and so I did. I walked around a cemetery that was located next to the drive-in, and it was a long walk and I looked at the monuments of the dead during the last week of august and the leaves were already brown and the earth smelled good, and so I just walked an entire double feature and I wasn’t even ten yet but it didn’t matter because I felt like I was eighty years old, and as I walked and looked at the sky the cemetery was the most peaceful place on the planet. I was so sick of the violence and that’s why I started reading and looking at words and thank you dead man, because you always gave the reader a choice.
Update, deleted ebook because it was just a test, if you bought it, great.
I now know how to make eBooks. Thanks for making them about the most streamlined product of all time taking away the artistic side of actually making the book. I hope you like Georgia technocrats and taking the timing and the beat from the writers vision of what a book story should be by allowing the audience to make the font bigger or smaller and connecting the internet for distraction reasons. The eBook should have been created by writers and book designers not the slave lords of box stores and data crunchers of fake file folders. And I’m sure there’s a group of people making the product better and using a more artistic fashion to go about things, but really the mainstream of the eBook world is constrained by the device when before the device was the actual real book and you could do whatever you wanted upon the page as long as it was a page you were working with. I could make a device I bet that would work much better for reading but nobody buys these things for reading and that’s easy to see, and it’s sort of a strange problem that faces the future of moving stuff around. Ideas are important or you might as well sink the ship and let me run around the woods screaming like a wild animal. Sweet. Not. Actually I could have some fun making some cool ebooks but I like to get my hands dirty. The computer world is much too nice and clean. But here, if you want to check out one I just made. There are a few errors and it’s just a test but pretty much final but still draft pages (will take down in a couple of days) of Bunch of new words and I dont know. It’s only a couple bucks. If you do purchase it, and you have a kindle you can change it to .mobi format by going to this site: http://ebook.online-convert.com/convert-to-mobi
CLICK TO BUY AN EBOOK! SWEET STUFF!
(edited spontaneous words from a book that will be out early 2014)
Introduction, by Andrew H. Kuharevicz
This BOOK needs some music…and I’m thinking Moaning by Mingus. Just the right amount of lean and rhythm for a night like this, and the setting and the weather…the feeling? Sixty-five degrees and the doors are opening and closing and who knows where you’re reading this from. Maybe you’re reading it from a planet that humans haven’t discovered yet or maybe I’m dead or maybe this is the future and The United States of America doesn’t even exist anymore….FOLKS FOLKS FOLKS…and who knows and I don’t care and when it comes down to it I don’t even know why I do anything at all. I don’t even like writing as much as you would think…it’s true and it actually gets really boring… but I guess when push comes to shove I don’t care all that much in general about anything…but seriously…who are these OLD YELLERS? TAP… TAP… TAP… and you just have to do something. You have to move stuff around and this is what the High Lords of Society have trained my monkey mind to believe… and no… I’m just not too sure about anything and I’m not too sure I like you or being a human being and I don’t have a clue who you are or what you are…you are real… right? Yes oh that’s good and so Ok… then you must have eyeballs and what I’ll call an inner-voice… yes? No? Maybe you don’t and so the thing is… nobody will tell me anything of any logical sense anymore. PEOPLE SAY FOLKS FOLKS FOLKS AND I’m like um hold on one second OLD YELLER because that’s a dumb idea but no, they say FOLKS FOLKS FOLKS SIT DOWN AND SHUT-UP BOY… and they’re always so dang grumpy and then they just yell and so maybe none of you exist and they were right all along…maybe I’m just a brain in a vat… and if so will you please tell those in charge that I’m on-to-them…FOLKS FOLKS FOLKS AND OH BLOODY DOOMSDAY PLEASE HAPPEN…I’m sorry…so what is this and what’s any of this about…I DON’T KNOW… it goes on forever and so what the hell…and what do these words mean… and if you’re holding something in real life and it’s not plugged into something and you can’t turn it off with a button and it only stops when you close your eyes or walk away, and if you can only read it and feel my voice translated with your mind…well then… what this relic of an object must be, is a book.…ah… yes…a book…
Lionel Trilling said in 1942 there is “the chronic belief there exists an opposition between reality and mind and that one must enlist oneself in the party of reality.”
The Concept Of When
The Truth: Everyone hates me and I don’t know what to do. What the hell am I? Have you ever asked yourself that, and some human or something once said that “darlin’, the best is yet to come.”… Is the best better than the dead? I don’t know …and that’s just it. Since 2008 I’ve been looking for what I’m going to say and then doubt later on as I’m alone waiting for something (I don’t know what) drinking the idea away in the cold Michigan spring. Will it be a new idea? And can you tell me…WHAT IS NEW…and what will the new look like? Do you know because I’m asking you and that’s all, because I don’t know anything, and in my mind it’s still coming together; everything is slowly learning when and how and why, but mostly when…and WHEN… is the most important rule (or action or the lack there of) right now. The idea of when to delete and when to leave be, and when to add and when to stay pat…
The concept of WHEN is the most important rule. And so what I do know is that what I need is all in front of me and the words are already there but I’m still not ready. Number one philosophical first truth of western culture is “I think therefor I am”… and so what? It takes something real to admit that you’re not good enough yet, and a computer will never tell you it’s not ready to be or to operate on the story or the body…and so there you go data humans, this is a major problem for the field of artificial intelligence. The Frame Problem. It has something to do with the future realization of the unseen variables of possibility in a chaotically organized world. That is… I think…