Saturday, February 08, 2003

It's nice to see demons getting so much work possessing children in the supermarkets of America. At least somebody's getting work!
I did not win the ebay auction of the signed first edition of Player Piano by Kurt Vonnegut. Something like that sells for about three thousand. I'm kicking myself a little. I bid on it last night at about one o'clock when it hit me, "I'm still working at one a.m. I've been working for almost fourteen hours now."
So, no work this weekend. No looking at auctions. No thrift stores and only going to the library to find another Laurel and Hardy film.
God help me.

Friday, February 07, 2003

I've decided to allow myself a weekend. The book count is at 700. The weekend will be good for both me, the person and you, the reader. I'll probably have more time to blog and more interesting things to talk about. Today I bought more books and inventoried them. And that's all.
I did receive the set of first editions of the "Illuminatus Trilogy" today. That's a very nice, highly sought after and highly priced set.

Thursday, February 06, 2003

My shrink says that she thinks I might be using working as a way of escaping from things like turbulence with Nissa and my anxiety and so forth. My addictive personality might have its claws in my self enforced work schedual. She might be right. I don't think I'm in much danger of losing all of my money because I'm slacking off. After three or four twelve hour work days and a ten day work week since my last day off, I think it might be time to let up a little. I've just been so focused on getting 1,000 books to get this hot air balloon off the ground. I imagine it's going to be quite a high when I hit 1,000.
Today I went all over the city of Orange and probably picked up around another hundred books. I also stopped at the farmer's market for lunch. I bought dried mango, cashews, soy beans, and a loaf of chocolate bread.
After Dr.Shrinker, Niss and I went out to dinner. A dog with markings like a tiger came into the restaurant. The waiter shoed it out into traffic, but the dog was nimble and quick of wit. He will have another day!
Tonight I had a bonfire at Bolsa Chica state beach with all of Nissa's Buddha camp friends. I liked them all. They all had very human, loving energies. They accepted me immediately.
Now I'm going to watch some Chaplin and drift away on wings of dream.


Wednesday, February 05, 2003

There's a great high to finding a book for a dollar that's worth a couple hundred. Today I dug up "You Don't Have To Die." It's a rant by a fringe doctor from the fifties that, not too surprisingly, fell into cult classic obscurity. I saw a photocopied reprint that sold for forty. A true first edition, which sits behind me as I type, is worth a good two or three hundred.

In other news, some of you may have heard about Mrs. Bush cancelling the poetry summit at the White House because a poet was planning on bringing some anti-war material. Well, a Wall Street Journal fat cat wrote a venomous, "boo-hoo I didn't get to go to the White House," condemning every person who exercises their right to protest in one fell swoop, type of article. It was printed Wednesday the Fifth of Febuary 2003 if you want to look it up if you need a point of reference and if you want to turn bright red like I did. My friend Rob in New York sent a brilliant response to the journal, which I want to reprint here. I figure, as does Rob, this response won't be printed in the Journal, so I want to get it out as much as I can. Here it is:

Subject:
Re: Vexing Verse
BY ROBERT MORRIS

My Dear Mr. Kimball,

Your dismissive tone about attending protests or signing petitions
undermines any arguments you have to say about the confluence of
politics and literature (which is much too big a topic for your little
opinion piece to tackle anyway).

We are all small people in a big world, and we do what we can to make
this world, as we see it, a better place. There were protests and
petitions long before the 60's, which you have so typically sneered at
(and isn't sneering at the 60's, by this point, a little tired and
cliched itself?). What you are putting down are American (and
Enlightenment) political traditions of which we should be proud, and
which we should exercise when we see fit. Not all of us have the
opportunity to publish our opinions in the Wall Street Journal, and must
therefore find other outlets to express our beliefs.

Mr. Hamill was acting his conscience, and would you do any less? This
"nonentity," as you term him, is supported and known by many in the
literary circles of New York, just to name one American city. Copper
Canyon Press is a rather famous (at least to those that most likely do
not read The Journal) independent publishing company, and a great asset
to American literature. And don't be too soon to put quotation marks
around "contributions" when you refer to those who responded to Mr.
Hamill's call for anitwar poetry. Have you read through those poems (you
can find 200 of them on http://mobylives.com as Adobe Acrobat files)?
Are you a better writer than all of them? Are you a better human being?
Who are you to judge anyway?

You accuse Mr. Hamill of never overcoming his adolescence, but this bit
of complaining on your part only reveals you to be a disappointed little
boy who lost his chance to hob-nob with the wife of a war-mongering and
dubiously-elected President. You might have gotten a special tour of the
White House too, and a nice hotel room, and probably even a tasty
luncheon. Poor you. I am sorry you had to miss it. I wish Mrs. Bush
would not have canceled the event.

But don't fear, Mr. Kimball, when there is a White House event for
elitist, imperialist, bloodthirsty writers who believe that squashing
free speech is best done on a day that was supposed to honor Emily
Dickinson, Walt Whitman and Langston Hughes, and that a unilateral war
for oil that distances us from our allies and distracts us from
protecting American citizens against further terrorist attacks is
"Responsible US Foreign Policy," then I am sure you will get another
chance to rub shoulders with that most loathsome of groups: the rich and
powerful.

Most Sincerely,
Robert H. Morris
Writer, Poet, Thinker, & Citizen





Tuesday, February 04, 2003

Dear God, my back is furious!
Charles said, "The good thing about working for yourself is that you get to work whatever 20 hours a day you want."
And so begins the long process of typing what books I have into the computer. If you happen to be looking for a book on Alibris and you see one being sold by RPM Books, that's me. Buy that one, even if it's more expensive than any of the others.

In other news, I had two strange dream experiences last night. The first, Niss and I were sitting at a cafeteria and somebody brought us a personal sized cheese pizza. Nissa was talking to somebody and I idly ate a fourth of the pizza. She picked up a piece and said, "It's too bad you can't have any of this because of the sauce."
I realized that I had eaten some and would probably be having an allergic reaction very soon. Then a voice in my head said, "But don't worry. It was only dream pizza."
The other was that my grandmother and I were at home and a komodo dragon was wandering the house. This frightened both of us and we were moving around slowly and cautiously. Then I thought, "Wait a minute! I don't want to dream this!"
And I woke up.



Monday, February 03, 2003

Hoo, doggie! Have I ever been active for the past 24 hours. Last night Nissa and I had another Conversation while parked in her car in an industrial complex. This happens every few months where we have a spell where we need to talk through some great big roadblock for a week or two. It's taxing as all hell, but I hold onto hope. And at the end I got to pee in front of a glass front office.
Anyway, I won't get too much into that part of last night lest I get in more trouble.
After the talk we went to see Instagon's tenth birthday at the Liquid Den in Huntington Beach (once again, you should come down on Sunday nights and see them.) There was a nice crowd and I danced like a femme geek for a good hour or more. Some drunk girl lifted up my shirt and gave my gut a zerbert as I danced.
I think the Crime and Punishment fell through. Dude hasn't responded to my offer. But that's okay. I bought a sailor's buttload of books today. I have a pile of four books that are worth three hundred dollars. The rare book part is starting to swing.
Now much sleep.


I had a good nine hours of lugging around books and doing inventory today.

Sunday, February 02, 2003

The big news is that I'm negotiating for a third edition of Crime and Punishment. That's right. An 1886 Crime and Punishment in good to very good condition. So much for no work on Sundays. That's why the good Lord gave us the internet.
The other big news is that I got the strawberries planted today.
I remember back when I was stage managing I told one of the set designers that I would like to have a Sabbath. At the time I was working thirteen hour days, seven days a week, because the show was less than a month away from opening. The thought of one day of rest each week where you can't do any work, don't get upset, just be peaceful and worship, sounded delightful.
Now I'm finding out that every place to get cheap books is closed on Sunday. I'm kind of forced to have a Sabbath. Books are like booze, I guess.
It's strange when life forces you to do things that are good for yourself. Even stranger is that I tend to resent it.