June 15th, 2014

MUT019

Spiny Retinas
Lina ramona Vitkauskas

5.25" X 8" | Softcover | 60 Pages | $12.00 | AVAILABLE NOW


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SPINY RETINAS is an epic poem, or if you prefer, a narrative poem, or perhaps still if you prefer, a “hybrid text piece” that was compiled slowly over the course of six years (2006–2012). It was constructed using automatic writing technique and addresses and/or speaks to war, politics, and religion (stereotypes and cultural myths explored through use of military and theological hierarchical titles); rape culture, gender roles, and sexism; and pop culture in general. The following books, films, and/or television shows were used as reference points to create SPINY RETINAS: I Dream of Jeanie episodes, John Ashbery’s Girls on the Run, David Lynch’s Lost Highway, Jennifer Chambers Lynch’s Boxing Helena, and Richard Brautigan’s Trout Fishing in America. It was created using aleatoric method/approach and poetic language was used carelessly, unabashedly, often with such extreme force the author found herself shaking simultaneously with utter pleasure and despair. It was a freeing exercise, like running around nude in a random suburban neighborhood at 2 a.m. with a clear squirt gun or picking the first cucumber of the season or even hanging upside down on the monkey bars.


June 11th, 2014

Letter from the Editor

Elon Musk, China, and the Multiverse
Gabriel Chad Boyer

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[Our sci fi films are like ads for future Apple products and propaganda for a reductionist view of the present, in which our end is inevitable, and the toys of the rich will become prettier and prettier while the rest of us drown in our own filth. In this letter from the editor I wanted to write about this sci fi present of ours. About the figures who fill it and what functions they serve, the places we're going and the places that are taking us there, and most importantly about the one thing that is driving it all.]

 

 

I. Persons

 

I want to argue that there are certain persons through which fantasy is made manifest. These are people who contain our fantasy and who exist as avitars for various members of the populace who believe that this person stands for them, or represents them. Most obvious of course would be your standard everyday politician. In becoming public figures, they also become icons that can then spread in a meme-like way as two-dimensional versions of themselves in the minds of those who believe in them. In truth, this could be anyone, in entertainment, politics, finance, or what have you.

 

The most obvious example of fantasy made manifest would be Jesus, but Walt Disney also comes to mind. You can die and come back to life. Drawings can walk and talk.

 

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June 6th, 2014

1 of 2

Enter Mister Maurice
William Levy

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“Numberless are the world’s wonders,
but none more wonderful than man.”
- Sophocles, Oedipus at Colonus

 

For over half-a-century whenever authors met talk would eventually come around to the maverick Maurice Girodias, and his Olympia Press. Did you or didn’t you? Did you or didn’t you hit him for money? Did you or didn’t you hear about what he had just published? Written. Done. Amazing really. Awesome. He seemed to internationally float about on some magic carpet surrounded by a suave fog both elegant and dangerous, ecstatic and ironic. For all the writers who claimed Maurice “ripped me off” there was an equal amount that used him. For every novelist like J. P. Donleavy—who had a justifiable vendettic rage against Maurice and spent an enormous amount of time and energy pursuing it, finally buying back the rights to The Ginger Man at public auction—there were versifiers like Christopher Logue. Plagiarist or premature post-modern deconstructionalist? According to a rare bookseller’s catalog, Count Palmiro Vicarion’s Book of Limericks was “in fact, almost entirely lifted by Logue from G. Legman’s then recent The Limerick, from a copy borrowed and not even bought.”
      In the 1950s, almost everything one wanted to read was published in Paris by Maurice. And banned. Lawrence Durrell, Samuel Beckett, Jean Genet, “Pauline Reage &/or Dominique Aury” aka Anne Desclos’ Story of O, Marquis de Sade, Jean Cocteau, Vladimir Nabokov, Chester Himes, Alexander Trocchi, Terry Southern, “Akbar del Piombo” aka Norman Rubington, “Harriet Daimler” aka Iris Owens, Nikos Zorba the Greek Kazantzakis, “Wu Wu Meng” aka Sinclair Beiles’ only novel Houses of Joy, Gregory Corso’s only novel The American Express, Philip O’Connor’s Steiner’s Tour, Raymond Zazie dans Le Metro Queneau and Georges Bataille to name just a few. American graduate students earned their tuition by renting out reading copies to undergraduates of the books published by Olympia Press. So when I arrived on the Left Bank during the summer of 1960, having reached the age of my majority, the first thing I did, like so many others of my generation in search of meaning, was head for the bookstalls on the quays along the Seine to buy my Traveller’s Companions, green-covered copies of Henry Miller’s Tropics and William Burroughs’ dust-jacketed The Naked Lunch. I never expected Maurice and I would have our short season together. That was almost a decade later… [For more on this, see Issue 4 of the Exquisite Corpse.]

 

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October 30th, 2013

A Mutable Sounds Review

Radio masquerading as dust
Gabriel Chad Boyer

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Within the first ten seconds of Bode Radio’s Dust Bowl Masquerade the album defines itself as a jarring fusion of the exotic and the deranged. In the following twenty seconds you find yourself really enjoying yourself. Then the rug falls out from under you, and it continues to fall out from under you, and over you, and around you, until you are seeing sound in a very different very unsettling way. Dust Bowl Masquerade is both a frenetic piece of cut-up electronica as well as a very groove-oriented album from start to finish. I’d like to say it’s what it would sound like if The Books and Apex Twin had a baby, but this baby belongs in a species all its own.

 

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October 24th, 2013

Feliz: Letter 2

Excerpts from the Wes Letters
Feliz Lucia Molina

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February 9, 2012
12:54pm

 

Dear Wes,
Have you watched the 1960s documentary Endless Summer? After drive-thru at In-N-Out I went home and turned on Netflix. The sunny California male voiceover truly lifts my heart. And I never say lifts my heart. That two surfer friends went around the world searching for the perfect wave is a cute representation of a philosophy of sport or aesthetics of time. Do you know Roland Barthes’ little masterpiece What Is Sport? I wonder what he would have said about surfing.

 

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October 13th, 2013

The Three Mulla-mulgars
Walter de la Mare

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[First chapter of Richard Adams'---author of Watership Down---favorite book found below.]

 

On the borders of the Forest of Munza-mulgar lived once an old grey fruit-monkey of the name of Mutt-matutta. She had three sons, the eldest Thumma, the next Thimbulla, and the youngest, who was a Nizza-neela, Ummanodda. And they called each other for short, Thumb, Thimble, and Nod. The rickety, tumble-down old wooden hut in which they lived had been built 319 Munza years before by a traveller, a Portugall or Portingal, lost in the forest 22,997 leagues from home. After he was dead, there came scrambling along on his fours one peaceful evening a Mulgar (or, as we say in English, a monkey) named Zebbah. At first sight of the hut he held his head on one side awhile, and stood quite still, listening, his broad-nosed face lit up in the blaze of the setting sun. He then hobbled a little nearer, and peeped into the hut. Whereupon he hobbled away a little, but soon came back and peeped again. At last he ventured near, and, pushing back the tangle of creepers and matted grasses, groped through the door and went in. And there, in a dark corner, lay the Portingal’s little heap of bones.

 

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September 12th, 2013

Layered Ekphrasis Collaboration
Lina ramona Vitkauskas

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[Delve into the article below by Mutable's own Lina Vitkauskas, and at the bottom you will find a string of poems that were inspired by a chapbook that was inspired by a film.]

 

I first saw Fando y Lis in 2001. The film is set in a post-apocalyptic world in which the main characters—lovers Fando and Lis—search for a mythical land, Tar, where it is said that all dreams come true. The film documents the journey to Tar—lays before the viewer a series of exquisitely odd and profoundly symbolic experiences; if dreams come true in Tar, it is no matter if we ever arrive, for dreams are fulfilled simply observing the unfolding excursion. The film itself is a poet’s dream—a grand pageant of formidable imagery: burning pianos and high-society aristocrats wandering barren landscapes littered with demolished structures, once beacons of culture/civilization; marionette shows illustrating the rape of innocence; canned peach-testicle metaphors and gaggles of erotic women and transvestites tempting the characters away for moments of sensual curiosity; mud nudes meshing with one another in the soft earth: flower consumption, body-painting, and melodramatic, reclining graveyard poses—a whirlwind of remarkable hallucinations strung together, coupled with intriguing and affected dialogue.

 

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September 8th, 2013

Ben: Letter 2

Excerpts from The Wes Letters
Ben Segal

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[The Wes Letters is a collaborative epistolary novel composed of letters to the film director Wes Anderson. Mutable Sound will be publishing a series of excerpts from the book over the coming months. They will come in weekly single-letter installments from one of the three authors: Feliz Lucia Molina, Brett Zehner, and Ben Segal.]

 

 

Dear Wes,

 

Will you ever go bald? Do you worry about it? Do you worry that people won’t want to work with bald Wes Anderson, that they’ll see balding as a sign of antiquatedness, that your career might be divided between the haired and hairless eras?

 

I worry about it, but then again I worry about almost everything.

 

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