vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion profile picture

vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion

-'Life is the biggest pointless drag,' he said-

About Me

Vulcan is looking for writing, art and photography that is incongruent with the norm. Please do not send beautiful landscape poetry, as we will gag with horror, and send you back a photograph of our gag, or possibly publish it in the mag. Do send us works that incite or reflect discovery, distortion, dissonance, disconnection, disbelief, distance from the center, something that is slightly ajar and amiss, disarming, discerning, dissolute. Create your own box to think in, make it an octagon.Despite the specificity of the guidelines please send whatever you want.Visit the website for more info: . . . . . . . . . . . . HERE: Vulcan: a literary dis-allusion .. make
your
death
mean
something
the silence is oppressive

My Interests

I'd like to meet:


whores and wars: casualties and contributors:: XXX

r.

.scott scheidly.

Beau

the flying saucer kid

le i.v.

the great mr. menezes

.c.roswell.

sir lawrence ferguson

the incestuous web we weave
speak/share/spew

Heroes:


inspirations:: minds and eyes

Bukowski: “its how you walk through the fire”

Vonnegut: “maturity is overrated”

e.e.: “dead it means nearer because deeper”

Alan Watts: “the silence between the tones is what makes melody”

lori earley

Woolf: "the dead leaf rests on its edge"

Plath: "is there no way out of the mind?"

Milk

My Blog

blood a necklace on me all my life

from The Collected Works of Billy the Kidby Michael Ondaatje MMMMMMMM mm thinkingmoving across the world on horsesbody split at the edge of their necksneck sweat eating at my jeansmoving across the w...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Tue, 08 Jan 2008 06:17:00 PST

Double Game

currently reading/seeing/following: Double Game, by Sophie Calle"Part I: Monday orange: carrots, cantaloupe, boiled shrimp. Tuesday red: tomatoes, persimmons, steak tartare.Whole days would be spent ...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Mon, 31 Dec 2007 11:12:00 PST

the sight of my ears

listen: http://www.onlyrevolutions.com/   (volume and attention required) || (how could i not know there was audio available?)...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Thu, 03 Jan 2008 01:39:00 PST

Issue Two Release

WHAT: Vulcan: a literary dis-allusion Issue Two Release FEATURING: Art & Lit from Beau Costa . Chris Roswell . Paul SolisScott Schiedly. Omar Zahzah. Chris Menezes Billy Han . Gerald Locklin . Pa...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Mon, 22 Oct 2007 11:01:00 PST

Zhang Huan: at the end of an hour

from New York Times, September 7, 2007"Chinese Art, in One Man's Translation"By HOLLAND COTTERPublished: September 7, 2007 Asia Society, "Fresh Open Buddha Hand" (2007). When the exhibition "Insi...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Mon, 31 Dec 2007 10:58:00 PST

today, that red memory will spill out from inside you and flood this valley con coraje

From Heroes and Saintsby Cherrie Moraga "Put your hand inside my wound. Inside the valley of my wound, there is a people. A miracle people. In this pueblito where the valley people live, the river run...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Sat, 03 Nov 2007 10:36:00 PST

My mind moves in more than one place.

The Far FieldTheodore Roethke   I I dream of journeys repeatedly:Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnelOf driving alone, without luggage, out a long peninsula,The road lined with snow-...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Wed, 24 Oct 2007 11:13:00 PST

dear god, i am so in love

 {listen to} Emilie Simon: fleur de saison            ...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Tue, 21 Aug 2007 10:08:00 PST

ashes of the late world

from The Roadby Cormac McCarthy   He was a long time going to sleep. After a while he turned and looked at the man. His face in the small light streaked with black from the rain like some old wor...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Tue, 21 Aug 2007 09:07:00 PST

como pajaritos en el aire

from The Silver Cloud Cafe by Alfredo Vea   They never knew that they would all vanish interstate, leaving behind powerless, jobless heirs who would someday divide up the Mission District and the...
Posted by vulcan//a+literary-[dis]allu.sion on Fri, 27 Jul 2007 07:58:00 PST