Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Invitation To Houellebecq:

by RudyG

Al vato El Houlle,

I know you get more invitations from Americans than you want, but this ain't another offer to get you laid nor pay you mucho dinero to make us look sophisticated, so read on.

Having read the article B. Bernhard did on your trip aux E.U., I thought to make amends for any faux pas done to you while you were in L.A.

We're not all as urbanely provincial, myopically cute, and vapid as whatever you suffered en Califas; some are worse. But some suffer only peripherally from well-polled, endemic American syndromes.

Actually, this letter is to invite you to join us Chicanos--a colonized variant--on our blog, dubbed La Bloga. (Chicanos are a different breed of americano, which we could discuss over a bottle of agavero or grappa--Mirtillo's all we get here--or both.) I thought, since you're a boozer and smoker, you might be a European worth consorting with, like Camus before he offed out or D.H. Lawrence before he strayed into novels. I also hear you write good books, so you'd be more credentialed than half of us presently contributing to La Bloga.

Mais oui, language problems exist between us, however I blame your people for that. If Napoleon and Carlotta had been better at conquering, like Cortez, my linguistic background would make me better at frenching. If the French girls you sent us were better at teaching tongues than exchanging them, again, we'd be able to communicate. So, how's your calo, ese?

At worst, we'd resort to English, but you can see my abilities there are no worse than yours. With enough Presidente in me, and assuming you smuggled in sufficient absinthe, we might get by. Moroccan opiates could substitute.

After an initial reparté, we wouldn't have to see much of each other, except perhaps with annual gestures of internationalism. We could schedule such to coincide with Bush's lip service to the worldwide bourgeois trough-sharing of their shrinking pie. (Why don't French people settle for dynasties of burro-cratic leaders like we do here?)

Why would any Chicano illiterati want your kind on our blog, particularly if we already have characters like you? Because we could use more, especially a famous one with a thick accent, and another drinker. Plus, we have similar views, just appositive applications. You want to get offed like Rushdie does, by trashing the Muslim world--that's your wake. I got problems with the Catholic Church, which I contend is the stupider religion. Okay, so we have differences, too.

But face it: your ancestors fell for that stupid religion when mine were still building cool pyramids. Who roasted Jean d'Arc? Is there not yet a tad of Inquisitive guilt wafting from your part of the Continent? However, with Vietnam we have much in common, too, having had both our governments' asses kicked on history's stage.

Why would I try to recruit you if you've been called Nazi, racist and Stalinist? Join the club. I've been called racist, communist, and terrorist sympathizer (I never thought the Irish were all bad). My 3 to your 3. Good enough. Of course, if you're really a Nazi, deal's off. There are some types even Chicanos won't consort with.

If you accept this offer, we could give you a weekend spot. You'd need to translate it into something readable (ninth-grade level American), but you'd have to do it from your end. As weird as you sound, I wouldn't want to mess up your literary nuances.

One last thing: I like this depression thing you're into, since that's the healthy attitude for our times, given the planet-wide cultural and political insanities. Over here, a joke of a Yale graduate leads us into the unforgiveable ignominy of Iraq; over there, you guys still like Jerry Lewis. 1 for 1. The irreal, the absurd, the darkest view seem more appropriate than turning cheeks or seeking pacifist closure. Plus, I've heard you practice well at drunkenness and rude behavior.

So, I extend you this invite to join us on La Bloga. If you accept, I suggest an article on your impression of L.A., but you probably already got paid lots of money for that. So instead, we'd welcome a piece about California bars, strippers, and toke, s'il vous plaît. I'll talk with the other Bloguistas about our adopting you as guest Chicanoesque French guy. I imagine something like El Houlle (which means nothing sensical in Spanish) for a byline, or make up your own. If you don't accept, you needn't bother not answering.

Building international camaraderie,
un traguito a la vez

Rudy Ch. Garcia


msedano said...

I read that interview yesterday. Or was it the day before?

Actually, I rarely read the LA Weekly, so I'm happy to find a Denveronian linking me, a Southern Californian, with this article.

So now we know how Houellebecq' technique with 25 women a year. He gives them an interview.

I hope, RudyG, you don't want to interview the vato.


Anonymous said...

I wish 25 wanted to interview me. Hell--5.

I'd only agree to an Internet interview of El Houlle: I'm not that hard up for new material.