Monday, February 09, 2015

Trío Aztlán in the Heartland


Xánath Caraza


 
Who is Trío Aztlán?  And, what community centered event they have recently realized?

Trío Aztlán is the largest trío I have ever met.  They are made up of five musicians—being a trio with five members is part of their fame.  Their music is outstanding.  The band plays from Latino music to folklórico, bolero and baladas. 

 
As for their home, Trío Aztlán is originally from Kansas City, Missouri and both with its original musical compositions and musical interpretations, from other bands, Aztlán has enchanted Kansas City for twenty-three years. 

Trío Aztlán

The members of the band are Dr. Uzziel H. Pecina, who is also one of my colleagues at the University of Missouri-Kansas City, Luis A. Portillo, Kevin Sweet, Andrés Ramírez and José A. Sustaita.

The Blue Room
At the legendary The Blue Room, part of the American Jazz Museum, Kansas City, MO, on January 29, Trío Aztlán had a night of music and poetry extravaganza where they featured emerging voices from the Kansas City Latino community, and were kind enough to invite me to share my poesía and be part of this amazing evening.


La poesía de Xánath Caraza

It was a wonderful evening.  I was glad to see Trío Aztlán in action, but most importantly it was about supporting and learning about these emerging jóvenes latinos.  I had the pleasure to meet Alexia Romero, Gustavo Cornejo, Victor Velasco, Javier Hernández, Vanessa Ayala, Coleen Deiker and Juan Pablo Mendez, Jr. on the stage.  Powerful young Latin@ voices is what keeps coming back to my mind from that evening at The Blue Room along with the always vibrant rhythms of Trío Aztlán.  Let the photos help you visualize this powerful event.  

Trío Aztlán




Luis A. Portillo
 
  
Dr. Uzziel H. Pecina, Andrés Ramirez and José A. Sustaita

David Cunninngham
  
Gustavo Cornejo
 
Alexia Romero

Vanessa Ayala
 

Sunday, February 08, 2015

Resurrecting delatierra.net


Olga García Echeverría




Fotos: Rotmi Enciso


http://delatierra.net/

Shortly after tatiana de la tierra passed away in the summer of 2012, her website went down. My brother managed to temporarily put it back up. Later in the year, though, the link was dead again. For the past two years, the website has flickered in and out of existence. Mostly, its been dormant.

Not having full access to tatiana on the Web drove me mad, as I'm sure it did many people who love and miss her. tatiana had invested a great deal of time and effort in her original website. She had a particular aesthetic too--clean, simple, bonito. In the spirit of Literature for All, she had also carefully selected a wide range of previously published materials to share on the site. Anyone could visit delatierra.net and read "Mujeres con barbas," "Visions of Colombia," "Big Fat Pussy Girl," and so much more.


I don't know much about websites, so the job of resurrecting tatiana's electronic domain mainly fell on the shoulders of my brother, Mario Garcia, and my girlfriend, Maritza Alvarez. They both are pretty busy individuals, juggling work, deadlines, and just plain old life, but like me, they both loved tati, and she loved them.

On the surface, it may seem very simple. A website goes down? Put it back up. Ya estuvo. But it wasn't so easy. tatiana's website resurrection project was emotional at the core. Yes, we have always known how important it was to get the site back up and share it con todos, but the loss of tatiana in 2012 left us all a bit spellbound, mourning. Also, tatiana was ultra picky. Because we respected her and her work so much, we knew we needed to be realistic and take our time verus rushing to put something/anything up.

What we had when we embarked on the journey of reconstructing tatiana's site were files of the old website (almost all of them) and also the memory of what the site looked and felt liked. We also had everything she and her mother Fabiola had left us--boxes of papers, libros, fotos, muebles, piedras, lamps, Colombian casitas en el campo, ojos de Dios, bath salts, so, so, so many things. We were surrounded by tatiananess, especially at my brother's office where tatiana herself had, during her final weeks, designated box after box be sent to "La Oficina de Mario."

http://delatierra.net/

Since I had witnessed tatiana's initial website journey--she was meticulous and obsessed about cada detalle--I had a pretty good idea of what she wouldn't want and what was important to her. I knew that reconstructing her website would have to be done como ella lo hubiera querido, and because we did not want to run the risk of injecting too much of our own ideas and aesthetics into it, we made an agreement to make the site as close to the original as possible.

My job during the process was mainly to be a bossy overseer. I wasn't at my brother's office regularly. I just showed up every now and then and made comments or suggestions. Yes, I was super annoying. Imagine, "No, no, no, tatiana wouldn't like that. Asi no era el original. tatiana always had a site map. We have to add a site map. tatiana..." I got exasperated miradas and sighs from Maritza and Mario, who were putting in the real labor whenever they had the time, but mostly my tati-demands were met with patience and understanding.

I asked Maritza what working on the website was like for her, and here is what she shared. “Being a part of the collaborative process to relaunch tatiana's website was both an honor and a unique opportunity. It was also a memorable and special experience. I recall several times sitting in front of the computer for hours as I read through her writings and browsed through her photos. Often there were moments when I blurted out 'damn, she's bad-ass!' Then my eyes would swell up with tears because I was better able to understand why she was so terribly missed by so many. I also found myself laughing aloud because she had such an unapologetic rhythm and rhyme to her writings! All these things I had heard of from you, Olga, but revamping her website felt like I was personally discovering them for myself. And those were definitely special moments! I will always appreciate and cherish them. Who wouldn't?”

My brother had the following to say (I believe it's partly in tatiana-Mario code because they shared a special bond).

"mono cosmico azul, sirena, tomate, hermana shamana, puro fuego
blue cosmic monkey, mermaid, tomato, shamanic sister, pure fire

tatiana was a great friend and teacher, so I feel honored that she chose me to be one of her keepers...amongst the many boxes, writings, artwork, furniture, bed sheets, and such...tatiana lives among us, when we sit in her rocking chair at the office, stare at the Botero painting, read her poems, and especially when I have to carry her very heavy boxes (insert happy face)."

Bueno, this is our bloga for today and here is the website link again, in case you missed it.




Please visit it and share it! If you knew tatiana, you will surely be delighted to read or re-read some of her classics. If you didn't know tatiana and are wondering why I am always mentioning her in my blogs, check out her work and enjoy. All of the tabs on the site, the chosen literature, and the general organization of the materials are from tatiana's original webpage. The exception is the tab entitled Suerte Sirena, where we have added a picture of tatiana taken by Rotmi Enciso and Ina Riaskowa, a quote from me, and links to tributes to tatiana. There are still a couple of future tabs to be added, one that will feature links to tatiana's blogs here at La Bloga, and another one that will connect visitors to tatiana's archives at UCLA. But all of that is for Resurrection delatierra.net Part II.

Hasta next time, gracias and happy Sunday!


Saturday, February 07, 2015

On Daniel José Older's novel, Half-Resurrection Blues

I already noted that the dude's first novel is going to burn up USican speculative literature, much like Junot Díaz's novels scorched literary fiction. Or like Raymond Chandler helped prop the pulp-bar for crime-detective fiction. Problem is, some critics have no idea what DJ wrote. I won't bet my last bottle of Don Pedro that I do, either. Daniel Olivas already did The Review of Older, but I got cosas to add.

Reviewers have called this novel: spectral noir, hard-core fantasy, genre fiction, urban fantasy, Noir, a literary .44 [magnum], mystery, suspense, supernatural thriller, ghost-detective, plus, there's also "diverse." If your hood hasn't been totally gentrified-razed of culture, and you can find a bookstore, I won't guess where you'll find this book. Except, probably on the chingón-bestseller table. Where Nora Robert's and Michael Crichton's tomes are trying to edge themselves away from DanielJosé's, to not get their white pages sullied by some street Newyorquian noir.

Check it, people--Half-Resurrection was released. One. Whole. Month. Ago. Jan. 6th. Two weeks--a mere fokkin' 14 days--later comes this announcement:

"Tony Award-winning actress Anika Noni Rose has optioned TV/film rights to Daniel José Older’s urban fantasy series Bone Street Rumba."
Sheeeet! Not just his first novel optioned, all his pinche Rumbas. A debut novelist's dream is to get 1 book optioned. But a whole series? That's no dream; that's Great Sea Mother Yemaya cradling you, mowing your detractors with her machete, and blessing your progeny with free-rides through Columbia Univ. So, someone besides me thinks Older's Rumba books are worth more than a read.

Like some hallucination, while reading Half-Resurrection Blues, it came to me to compare/contrast DanielJosé with Chandler and Junot. Chandler's dead and won't give much of a fokk anymore, and Junot may not concur, pero, así va.

He just did't get blacks.
From Chandler, mostly, The Big Sleep:
"The streets were dark with something more than night." [Walter Mosley might define this is THE writing--terse, snappy, quick-and-move-on-ly.]

"From 30 feet away she looked like a lot of class. From 10 feet away she looked like something made up to be seen from 30 feet away." [Ignoring his white-machismo, this is smooooth.]

“I don't mind your showing me your legs. They're very swell legs and it's a pleasure to make their acquaintance. I don't mind if you don't like my manners. They're pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter nights.”

“She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air.”
DanielJosé doesn't compare to Chandler, though he can chandler when he's in the mood. I put one pata en mi boca and state, sin miedo, that DanielJosé is deeper than Chandler. Period.

Here's some Junot [Díaz]:
“She was the kind of girlfriend God gives you young, so you'll know loss the rest of your life.” [Male authors of all colors must write about las mujeres as undiscovered territory, revealed, que no?]

“You really want to know what being an X-Man feels like? Just be a smart bookish boy of color in a contemporary U.S. ghetto. Mamma mia! Like having bat wings or a pair of tentacles growing out of your chest.”

“Dude, you don't want to be dead. Take it from me. No-pussy is bad. But dead is like no-pussy times ten.” [Mujeres as objetos, again.]

“In a better world I would have kissed her over the ice trays and that would have been the end of all our troubles. But you know exactly what kind of world we live in. It ain't no fucking Middle-earth. I just nodded my head, said, See you around, Lola, and drove home.”

“She is sixteen and her skin is the darkness before the black [better than Chandler's above?], the plum of the day’s light, her breasts like sunsets trapped beneath her skin, but for all her youth and beauty she has a sour distrusting expression that only dissolves under the weight of immense pleasure. Her dreams are spare, lack the propulsion of a mission, her ambition is without traction. Her fiercest hope? That she will find a man. What she doesn’t yet know: the cold, the backbreaking drudgery of the factorias, the loneliness of Diaspora, that she will never again live in Santo Domingo, her own heart. What else she doesn’t know: that the man next to her would end up being her husband and the father of her two children, that after two years together he would leave her, her third and final heartbreak, and she would never love again.” [Compare to Chandler's paws in the air.]

Chandler's world had "one white dude to rule them all"--Phillip Marlowe, who knew some Spanish and some mexicanos. Chandler wrote pulp, knew it, maybe sometimes regretted it, but that was how his U.S. was and how he worked it.

Junot works the other side of the alley, the immigrant dominicano better read than described, by me anyway. My point to using him is to get to unas migas of DanielJosé [from Half-Resurrection]:

DanielJosé
"I dip into a brightly lit tobacco store for some Malagueñas and a pocket-sized rum. The rum goes into my flask and one of the Malagueñas goes into my mouth. I light it, walk back out to the street, and weave through the crowds. When I move quickly, no one notices my strange gait or the long wooden cane I use to favor my right leg. I've gotten the flow down so smooth I almost glide along toward the milky darkness of Prospect Park. There's too much information here in the streets--each passing body gives up a whole symphony of smells and memories and genetics. It can help pass the time if you're bored, but tonight, I'm far from bored.
     Tonight I am hunting." [There's a gist of the plot, prosaically.]

"I make a grunty-affirmative noise. When they send me after a normal ol' fully dead ghost, it's usually to toss their translucent asses back into Hell or, when they're really acting out, slice 'em to the Deeper Death. That means they're gone-for-good gone, not just kinda-sorta gone. It takes some getting used to, yeah, but you figure, hey--they were already dead once. Not everyone comes back even as a spook, so they had that second chance and jacked it up by playing the fool. The final good-bye ain't that big a deal in that sense. But this one . . . this strange, gray-like-me man with his wild schemes and last-gasp poetics . . . his death hasn't left me since New Year's.
     Neither has his sister's perfect smile." [More about the plot.]

"The feeling follows us down the block, even lingers as a dull whisper while we trudge up the creaking steps at Mama Esther's. Then we enter the library, the only room in the entire house with any furniture, and everything's all right again. There aren't even shelves, just stacks and stacks of books from floor to ceiling. You'd think it'd be a chaotic mess, all packed in there like that, but somehow there's a harmony to it; the books seem almost suspended in midair. They're everywhere, and the room is wide and tall enough that it doesn't feel cluttered. If I don't clean my little spot in more than a week, it starts to close in on me, so how Esther keeps this utterly full room spacious is beyond me. Some ghost shit, I suppose. Either way, it's oddly comforting.
     Esther's floating in her usual spot right in the center of the room. That's where the head is anyway. Beneath that great girthy smile, her wide body stretches out into invisibility in a way that lets you know she's got the whole house tucked within those fat ghostly folds. "Boys." She nods at us; the warmth of that smile is a sunbath after the grimness of the ngk." [To learn about the ngk, read the book; they're more than "imps."]

Maybe all that my selections prove is that I'm horible at examples. But if you want easy quippy, go pulpy Chandler. If you want Junot, go Junot. But if you want refreshing, street-smooth, page-flowing noir and Latino spec--ungenred--go DanielJosé.

Publisher's synopsis of Half-Resurrected: "Carlos Delacruz is one of the New York Council of the Dead’s most unusual agents—an inbetweener, partially resurrected from a death he barely recalls suffering, after a life that’s missing from his memory. He thinks he is one of a kind—until he encounters other entities walking the fine line between life and death.
     "One inbetweener is a sorcerer. He’s summoned a horde of implike ngks capable of eliminating spirits, and they’re spreading through the city like a plague. They’ve already taken out some of NY Council of the Dead’s finest, leaving Carlos desperate to stop their master before he opens up the entrada to the Underworld—which would destroy the balance between the living and the dead.
     "But in uncovering this man’s identity, Carlos confronts the truth of his own life—and death."

Quién sabe whether DanielJosé wrote this synopsis, but it leaves me flojo-limp. A plot synopsis goes weak, not providing the reader much hint of the powerful writing within. On a better day, minus a hangover, when I was young-sharp, I'd'a shot higher. But maybe that's just me. Decide whether to purchase the book, by a read of half a random page; the sucker flows más suave than Carlos glides through las calles de la Nueva.

Las embras who couldn't get past Yunior's mujeriego to read Oscar Wao, can enjoy Carlos, however gray his half-deadness, which incidentally doesn't reek of morbidity. There's love, of a different kind because it's of a different world. Yemaya's.

The man paved the way for our spanglishes.
Here's una cosa I wonder about DanielJosé's work that Junot carried to the penultimate: the novel's boriqua Spanish is light, however great the sabor--sporadic, casi. Junot blew the lid off the exclusionary Anglo-English-ceiling with a major body-slam [yeah, so sue me for metaphorical mix] that USican audiences are ready for bestsellers profuse with nuestra lengua (or at least can pretend to be, entering gentry bistros with Oscar Wao tucked in their man-purse). I'd prefer more lengua boriqua from DanielJosé. Maybe he was testing the literary waters. Maybe that's simplemente his voice, at the moment. Yo no sé, but I'll ask.

DON'T buy or shoplift Half-Resurrection expecting Yvonne Navarro-horror. DanielJosé doesn't try to gore your groin or twang your things-under-the-bed neuroses. He shoots for lifting our sorry-ass, neglected literary intellects to invented realms of noir experience. Think--Yunior the immigrant wandering through women to find no truths, brutalized by colonialist reality, except in Carlos's case, supernatural navigation is what-we-do, and do fairly well. To plug myself, my Chicano protagonist got bounced around the walls of his alternate-world, trying to escape. Carlos is sophisticated enough to chill in his mundo and fulfill his mission. It's a wild, enjoyable, funk-ride to get there. I recommend you take it. Later, you might be lucky enough to see it on-screen.

This pic is an Anika Noni-reminder
One note about that. The film, the TV series, the whatever, might become the next blockbuster, but it will fail like a blind, Carlos-crippled m-f-er the further it meanders from DanielJosé's prose. Sure his dialogue rules, and, not that I know jack about movie directing, but por favor, Anika Noni, consider employing an off-screen narrator, a la Anthony Mendez of Jane the Virgin. En serio, Esa, that's where the art breathes.

A last great lesson I learned from my read of Half-Resurrection pertains to the mierda about genre. How especially Latino authors bitch and moan and wonder more where their work will be slotted. Chuck that. This novels tells me, "Dump the rules, slaughter the bookstores' shelves-by-genre and publishers' imprint guidelines. Write your art. Speak yourself. Give your readers what you want. Let the accolades fall as far from you as they care to. Then again, you might just be more than noticed, and then get hit with a goddamn-the-dude's-unfairly-lucky TV/movie option.



Best author profile ever

Not that I compare--yet--to DanielJosé, but Latin Post features an author profile on me that I believe you might enjoy, un montón, however strange some of the revelations. I'd appreciate your leaving comments there to justify my existence on its pages. With enough readers doing so, I might be asked for a return engagement. Gracias.



Next This year, en Havana

Whoever reads this and owns a yacht, meet me in Matamoros and I'll bring the Negra Modelos and we'll head to La Isla, before all the turistas invade. Me tengo que ir, este año. Or, a lo menos, before me muero. ITM, if you're in AridZona next week, La Bloga's amigo Tom Miller is one of the panelists. Miller knows more about Cuba than anyone but Fidel. Wishing I could be in either locale:

Es todo, hoy,
RudyG, a.k.a., part-time cheerleader for Half-Resurrection, in case you missed that,
and Chicano fantasy author Rudy Ch. Garcia who creates equally strange worlds

Friday, February 06, 2015

Lament of the Short Distance Runner





Any relationship that is heavy into the physical but lacks mental stimulation runs the risk of familiarity, repetition, even ennui. Sweat, heavy breathing, enhanced heartbeat, and using little-used muscles only go so far. There’s always down time that must be accommodated. Whether one ponders a sexual liaison or a jog through the neighborhood, balance is required in the body/mind dichotomy. Visits to the gym or rec center without corresponding brain exercise may develop a good pair of biceps, but the weight-lifting routines won’t fill all the void. On the other hand, too much thinking (or watching TV or eating or you fill-in-the-blank) from a sitting position is an invitation to several sorts of trouble, usually related to the heart.

Back in December of 2010, I posted a piece entitled “Things I am pretty sure of …” Among the things I listed were “Watching my father rehab from his stroke reminded me of the importance of balance in all things, not only for standing up.” I believe this more now than when I first wrote it and my father was still alive. The man who lived an intensely physical life as a construction worker, primarily, and who accomplished amazing feats of strength, agility, and coordination, was betrayed by his body at the end. His final days were filled with physical torment and frustration. His brain also was damaged, which contributed to the physical collapse and also limited his emotional attachment to life. He rarely laughed or lost his scowl, but when he did his smile lit up the nursing home. To get to that smile, I had to engage his mind with music, jokes, stories about his sons, memories. His balance was gone, in more than one way.

Here I am – retired, enjoying a fairly comfortable life, still writing the fiction I want others to read, still reading the fiction I hope to read forever. I keep the brain on edge with writing, reading, creating.

I’m well into a novel that features two protagonists from earlier novels. I’m writing it under the banner of a fortune cookie phrase that found its way to me shortly before I began the book: “You will take a chance in the near future and win.”

I’m also trying to develop marketing for my upcoming short story collection, The Skull of Pancho Villa and Other Stories, which will be published by Arte Público Press at the end of March. I don’t like pushing my stuff on other people but I do want them to read what I write, so I have little choice. Time for blurbs, business cards, postcard notices, email blasts, public appearances, and other forms of self-conscious self-promotion.

Another project is a short story due in a couple of months that I was invited to submit to a proposed anthology. So far, all I’ve done on the story is think about it, watch a relevant movie, and read a relevant book from the seventies -- forms of research for the fiction writer, essential to the writing process.

In other words, I keep the old gray matter churning.

Sometimes the edge cuts two ways. Occasionally, I don’t get the few hours of sleep I need to function at max potential. I’ve learned that my type of insomnia is mostly self-imposed, but knowing that doesn’t mean I can stop it. I don’t think I’m over-stimulated but I certainly can fret and worry about trivial things that don’t require either. Interrupted sleep is not that big of a deal anymore.

Since my retirement I’ve become a regular at a local rec center that also serves as a senior center. Yeah, bunch of old-timers hanging out, playing pool or bridge, enjoying the company and diversion. Striving for balance, my wife and I participate in the yoga classes, and I use the weights and ellipticals. She also indulges her quest for physical activity with Zumba, and cardio. She’s thinking about belly dancing.

But I work up the most sweat by jogging. I run wherever there’s a trail – my neighborhood, any of Denver’s great parks, bike paths along the High Line Canal or the rivers and creeks. Denver is one of the country's premier running cities.

I’ve run in several cities, from Chicago to San Marcos to Seattle. I’ve rushed past impressive public art and depressing urban blight. I’ve been passed by men and women older than I, and I've tried to keep up with mothers pushing baby strollers. I take my running shoes with me on every trip.

I am not aiming for a marathon, nor do I expect to run in any form of competitive race. There was a time when I trained for the local El Grito 5K run, but I developed tendinitis in my ankle and that was that. The injury may have been a sign that I am not meant for such competition, if I believed that the sign-maker paid attention to my insignificant ups and downs.

I'm a short man, living out the short life we all share. I run short distances, usually measured in kilometers. I try for at least five, and regularly get to that point and then some. That suits me, keeps me in balance.

At one point I ran every day. My knees protested, loudly, and I have cut back considerably. Balance.

It’s difficult in winter to maintain a regular schedule, and I can make up imaginative excuses for not running on any particular day. I hate running in the wind, and I will fool myself about how cold it really is. That’s when the rubber hits the road, as they say, and glib talk has to be replaced with the clunky process of putting one foot in front of the other. When it is deep winter bad outside, I try to get in to the rec center and use one of the old, noisy, and shaky treadmills. It’s not the same as running in the sun, of course. The machines remind me of myself.

But when I do run, and sweat, and the pain cruises through my system and then out of my body, and my legs burn, and I keep at it for more than a half-hour, and the music in my ears is doo-wop or Los Lobos or Neil Young or Ramón Ayala or Sonny Rollins, and my brain floats along with my feet, and my breathing slides into a meditative rhythm, and the ideas for the next chapter slowly wiggle around my head, then I know I have learned all I will ever need to know about balance, and I think about my father.

_______________________________________________________

I'll wrap up with reprinting a piece of ficción rápida I first presented on La Bloga back in 2009.



Runner

He ran at 6:30 every morning. At least thirty minutes. Several blocks around his neighborhood; winter, summer, spring, fall.  He ran into the rising sun or the cold wind. His face soaked up sunshine or dripped raindrops or melted snow. As he ran, his heavy breath roughed up his throat and ignited his lungs. The pavement beat his legs and twisted his knees. Pain dotted his muscles. The first few months he sweat off pounds that had hung on his body for decades. When he had no extra weight to lose, he exposed ribs and cheek bones. His clothes swirled around his body like blankets in the wind. He ate less food. He drank less alcohol. He slept fewer hours. His friends worried.

“I’ve never felt better,” he said. “But then, I’m a poet.”

Later.

Thursday, February 05, 2015

Chicanonautica: The Year of Ancient Chicano Sci-Fi Wisdom




We're in bit of timewarp here. I'm writing this as a get ready to spend the bulk of the weekend going over my lecture notes for the master class in science fiction writing I'll be teaching at UC, Riverside's Writers Week. By the time you read this, I'll be back home resting from delivering Ancient Chicano Sci-Fi Wisdom. Spacetime can be a bitch.



2015 hit the ground running, and is stampeding across the planet. I'm hanging of for dear life, wondering where it's going to go. Where ever we end up, it's gonna be wild ride.


Just in January, I had three stories accepted:

“Where Civilizations Goe to Die,” another adventure of Victor Theremin, the AI-aided science fiction writer who's lost track of where his life ends and the sci-fi begins, will appear Bewildering Stories.

“Flying Under the Texas Radar with Paco and Los Freetails,” in which Paco Cohen, Mariachi of Mars escapes the planet has been officially accepted by Latino/a Rising.

“Guerrilla Mural of a Siren's Song,” the story that exploded into my novel Cortez on Jupiter will be one of the Stories for Chip: A Tribute to Samuel R. Delany.

And you can now read the first chapter of Cortez on Jupiter, free, on line!


To further complicate things, my wife uncovered a big box of my old sketchbooks while cleaning out the garage. All that crazy artwork may actually come in handy.

Ernest Hogan knows where his life ends and the science fiction begins, and is not being helped or studied by any artificial intelligences . . . as far has he knows.