Monday, November 16, 2009


I have had webpages in the past, it's true; I remember fondly my Geocities webpage from 1997 or so, the existence of which was only to lead users on a frustrating adventure through a maze of circuitous links for my own amusement. I also posted some MIDIs of songs from the "Rocky" movie series. Awe inspiring? Yes.

Webpages that followed were slightly better in most cases. And one-- the one built by Man of Many Coats Jason Heim (of multimedia zine Colored Chalk) was outstanding. Sadly it sank into the murk when I failed to renew my domain. The internet is complicated. And sad. Depression followed; then pizza. Then more depression. Then silence.

Now, I've returned with another hijacked plot of digital land on which I shall build this: Eject! I'm fashioning this to become my online junk drawer, where I shall keep all things of a literary slant that interest me. My doings, and the doings of my cohorts, will be discussed. Ad nauseam. Or whenever I feel like. Salient points will be made. Parallels drawn. I cannot promise that heads won't be exploded.

Rest assured, its not that what I hope to index here is considered junk in any sense of the word. On the contrary, I find that the junk drawer in my house actually contains the most useful stuff in the joint; it is the drawer I keep returning to. The drawer I trust. The drawer that accepts no order, yet has everything I need.

So why "Eject?" Why not "The Junk Drawer?" Because "The Junk Drawer" sounds stupid. It sounds like a place in the mall that would sell hand-knitted oven mitts or clothespin reindeer with googly eyes. And though I did in fact craft something like this in kindergarten, I'd like to put it behind us.Now I get to reverse-engineer the title of my Blog, pretending that I had some grand purpose in mind when I chose it: when I think of the word "eject," I think of a lot of things. Noise. And fire. And wind. Escape. And excitement! Maybe that's the best word choice; even utter terror is, if nothing else, exciting. A jolt, a sudden bursting upward. Chaos, exhilaration, spinning, falling. Can fear and joy exist in the same instant? Hope and despair? Why not? Before you can answer the question, you are in a controlled descent; if everything goes to plan, you arrive safely back to Earth, unscathed and shaken to the bone. And you look up at the distance you have traveled and wonder if the miracle can repeat itself without the threat of high-speed death.

I will be bold and say that it can! The best fiction blows you out of the aircraft, into the open sky. It is a gift to feel that way, and I've been keeping my thoughts on it largely to myself. Selfish-- this isn't a drug in short supply; there are talented artists dotting my radar daily, and it's their toil and trouble that richens our lives in untold ways. Some of this writing has been done by strangers; some by people I am lucky enough to know. I hope to share all of it with you.

Also, I will be peddling my own words from time to time. But enough foreplay: let us eject!

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