Tuesday, July 31, 2012

25 Things from 2500 Random Things About Me Too

Tomorrow is the online release of Matias Viegener's 2500 Random Things About Me Too! It's Matias' first book, and also the first book written on Facebook. Remember that meme "25 random things about me"? Matias wrote 100 of them—they are brilliant, poignant and you should check them out. 




Here's one of them so you can see for yourself:


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1            My pillow is gone!

2            Why is utopianism so uncool with so many
              people I know?

3            You know that if men menstruated, the world
              would be run by a lunar calendar.

4            My favorite mistake in English that my mother
              made was when arriving in someone's house, she 
              would occasionally exclaim how "homely" it was!

5            Sometimes when salesmen knocked on the door,
              my friend Marc Weisman's mother would say,
              "Please go away, I am not interesting."

6            I just looked in the mirror and I look like me
              again.

7            Today I have more than 25 things, so I will save
              some.

8            Four years ago, we could not have come to Santa
              Marta and Ciénaga because they were being torn 
              apart by paramilitaries and guerrillas.

9            Chris Kraus once told me that Sylvère Lotringer
              and I were the only two men she knew who did 
              not see Kathy Acker as monstrous.

10          I remember visiting the Greek island of Delos,
              filled with marble phalluses. Many of them had 
              been chopped off at the stem, so to speak.

11          I envy Austin, his capacity to fall asleep anywhere
              at any time. This would make my life much easier.

12          What about men who cup their balls and call
              them the family jewels?

13          Or men who name their penises?

14          More rain. I will probably always see weather as a
              New Yorker; I spent my "formative years" where 
              weather was something you struggled against.

15          Few things are as embarrassing as your own 
              mother.

16          I had sex in a bathroom at UCLA during the
              Rodney King riots. It was with an architecture
              student. We even talked about it: having sex
              while the city burned.

17         For a long time, I believed in ancient astronauts.

18         I've heard stories about strangers having sex in 
             bomb shelters during the War.

19         I remember when people got dressed up to travel.
             When I was a kid we had special traveling outfits.

20         Pompeii is filled with phallic statues.

21         When I was a kid, my mother's aunt would come 
             visit us every year from Germany. The first few 
             times she wore a wool jacket and skirt, stuffed
             inside like a sausage.

22         In a hot climate, if you're not peeing, you're not 
             drinking enough.

23         My mother's aunt was kind of dowdy, and she
             never looked as good as when she traveled.

24         By the end of the 80s things had changed, and
             she arrived in rumpled sweat suits.

25         What about when they paint fig leaves over classic
             nude paintings?

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Small Changes Movement on Facebook


      Les Figues is hosting The Small Changes Movement on Facebook. It is an interactive, collective writing experience where YOU, the reader, can add to the story. All are invited to add to the text, whether it be a sentence, a paragraph or just a few words. It's amazing how much the slightest change can alter a narrative. And as unique as all our readers are, the story takes some interesting turns.
      The Small Change Movement is running in conjunction with our Small Change donation drive. Feel free to add your donation to the movement on the Les Figues website. You can find the Facebook page here to join in on the movement.
Here is what we have so far:

Me was born on the 4th of July, We too, like twin firecrackers, and since the beginning Me had been plagued with a premonition: that the world would end on July 31st. Out came the lightning bugs. Luciferin. Luciferase. "Good idea," said Me. But I can't find him. "Well," said We, "maybe we should ask Chris Christopher Hershey-Van Horn what to do." ‎"You're so cruel. No creature deserves to die like that.... Plus OAT is already so fat," Me replied as she trotted towards the door, cat lasso in hand. ‎"Me," said We with a sigh, "who cares if Pat gets mad. His rat is annoying." The Beginning: “Hurry!” shouted Me to We. “Save Pat’s rat from being eaten by OAT, our fat cat, or Pat’s temper will flare up—he’s not quite sane.” OAT and Meester Pance, new pals, decided to work together to catch the rat, OAT because she liked to eat, and Meester Pance because he fucking hated Pat. I concur, indeed. Finally, we're speaking the same language. I've waited so long. meowww. meow meow. meeow.
The Rat used over 900,000 names. She brutally beat a servant girl with a hammer in woods that lay outside Danville. She killed a five-year-old girl by strangling and stabbing her 36 times with scissors. Me? I don't know what Me was doing when We said that Me had sliced The Rat's fin from its hide. Me? Me? Me? Me? I just felt like laughing. Internal to that laughter was a simple progression: The Rat tortured animals--domesticated dogs, house cats--and attacked people, sometimes in broad daylight. Her crimes were halted during the Great California War. Soon, she drowned two young friends while swimming. She moved in with one of the victims' families. Her injury, unnoticed. The victim's family was named Reverof. The mother bathed The Rat and skipped the wound, and others. Each scale hid the scent of The Rat's atrocities. A torn ligament; a plucked tooth; a lacerated friendship. The Mother Reverof would sing to The Rat the song she knew from her youth, "We like you baby, when you turn your back on us, forever, forever, forever." The Rat became more lucid. The song outlined in detail a labyrinth of possibilities, all of which seem to revolve around The Rat's cunt. During that time, The Rat's only human contact was with Reverof, who sometimes bought her fast food, and sometimes told her amusing stories. Seven months into her captivity, Reverof introduced The Rat to her wife, Nancy, who brought The Rat a stuffed animal and chocolate milk. There was a cop The Rat longed to kill. and doughnuts. The sweet smell of putrefaction. The Rat reminisced over her far gone youth mirrored in a pool beneath her. "Will you turn your back on us, Mother Reverof?" The words twisted through her corrupt passageways.
         Fast / East.
         The cop, Patrick Shank, Pat for short, had a fetish for things that never stopped growing--the universe (perhaps), hair, the splinter teeth of rodents.

Whew! 
Small Changes can make a huge difference. 

Monday, July 9, 2012

Fig a Friend Today!


July is HOT!


The sun is blazing and the next TrenchArt series is on its way. This year's conversation is 'Surplus,' and in that vein, we are publishing not five but six titles in the series. And now, we're offering an excessively good membership deal—a gift-giving drive to share the love. Become a member at the $100 Supporter level or higher, and receive a gift membership mailed to the recipient of your choice. You can personalize the gift or send it anonymously, whichever you prefer. Plus free swag! That means all six books in the series, invitations to special Les Figues events, and an assortment of stickers and postcards. Times two. Think about how much extra goodness will exist in the world when you give a buddy a gift membership.


The TrenchArt Surplus series includes:
  • TrenchArt: Surplus (aesthetics)
  • Lividity by Kim Rosenfield
  • 2500 Random Things About Me Too by Matias Viegener
  • Words of Love by Mark Rutkoski
  • The Memoirs of JonBenet by Kathy Kathy by Michael du Plessis
  • For Want and Sound by Melissa Buzzeo
Plus visual art by Klaus Killisch.


Summer is hot and so is sharing: Fig a friend today!


Friday, July 6, 2012

Small Changes Donation Campaign & Story Movement


You might think a small change wouldn’t have a big effect. How can a few bucks actually make a difference? But in a story, the smallest change can alter the course of things, can jostle the plot  from comedy to tragedy. Notice, for instance, the fine line between “It was love at first sight” and “It was glove at first fight.” Suddenly we’re interested.

At Les Figues we know the value of small. We started as a small experiment, publishing an annual series of books “in conversation.” The series is called TrenchArt, and since 2005, each series has included 5 books. Luckily we’ve been able to do this through the support of great people who share a common goal: the publication of experimental and thought-provoking prose and poetry.

This year, we made a small change to the TrenchArt series and added a sixth title. The extra title fits this year’s conversational theme (“surplus”). Yet an extra book means extra production costs, so we’re hosting a Small Changes campaign. Individuals can make tax-deductible donations in the amount of $5, $10, $15, or $20 (or an amount of your choice) on the Les Figues website between now and July 31th. This will help us publish all six TrenchArt: Surplus books—which are feminist, smart, scientifically-sound, and unreasonably beautiful.

And since we are writers here—and know what it feels like to be broke—we’ve started a parallel campaign: The Small Changes Story Movement. Make small changes to the existing story on our facebook wall by adding a sentence here and there, and together we’ll create a composite piece, to be finalized on July 31st. Don’t be afraid to change the direction,  tone, or  style of the story--each sentence has that power, so use it!