So what exactly happened at the July 8, 2005 San Francisco G8 protests?

This Chronicle article reports that a bandana-masked attacker assaulted SFPD Officer Peter Shields. Shields and his partner, Michael Wolf, answered a call about anarchists, who were protesting G8, breaking windows. Someone tossed a mattress underneath their car and lit in on fire. Wolf tried to arrest someone who he thought lit the mattress. There was a chase and Shields was hit by someone from behind, suffering a fractured skull. Shields had no riot gear and backup was not called in time. These gruesome photos show Shields and suggest that the cops began swinging their batons at random protestors in retaliation. Because of all this, a no-confidence petition against Police Chief Heather Fong and Deputy Chief Greg Suhr. The latter was in charge of handling the protest.

The Mayor’s Office has issued a $10,000 reward for any information leading to the arrest of the assailant.

But that’s just one side of the story. This video suggests that the SFPD was reacting with the same uncool heads as the protestors. For one thing, the Chronicle article notes that police were randomly arresting people, associating them with the assault. If that was the mentality in place, then if the protestor depicted in this video was being as seriously choked as he looks to be, the onus also falls upon the SFPD for failing to coordinate and to react to the situation calmly. (Near the end of a video, we see the SFPD drawing guns on bystanders concerned about the choked protestor, ordering all to “Get back!” and to “Leave or you’re going to be fucking blasted!” — apparently, these are considered dependable ways to calm down a crowd.)

The protest was an uncontrolled one, as the Anarchist Action people themselves point out. Meanwhile, Suhr has been reassigned and the two protestors arrested have pleaded not guilty and there’s conflicting reports about whether or not there was a communications mishap.

Here are the questions that need to be asked:

• Was there or was there not a communication breakdown? What measures are in place to protect officers from unexpected assaults?
• Why did the officer depicted in the video place a chokehold on his assailant?
• What evidence do the SFPD have to implicate the three arrested suspects?
• Why did the SFPD draw guns and sling batons upon unwitting protestors? If the charges here were misdemanors, what motivates such a stunning response within police procedure? Further, is there hard evidence to back up some of the protestors’ claims?
• Has any disciplinary action been taken against the officers who attacked the protestors or Suhr?
• What was Suhr’s specific approach to handling protests? Does he have a history of using violence and intimidation to resolve conflicts (and encouraging officers to do the same)?

Interestingly enough, KRON’s Brian Shields (unrelated to Peter), a man who’s been trying to court Bay Area bloggers and who operates a blog, The Bay Area is Talking, wrote in the SF Indy Media thread (you have to click on one of the comments to access the dialogue), promising “to recognize that there is another source for information about events around the world, the source of citizens who have cameras and who report based on their own experiences.” At the time of this posting, the top post at The Bay Area is Talking is “What a night for baseball!” It’s good to see Brian Shields following up on the hard news stories. (Some of Brian Shields’ other Pultizer-worthy posts include “I Love the Fog,” “A More Practical Way to Connect with Women,” and “Gee I thought had a Crazy Weekend” [sic]. But at least he has one post up about the incident.)

Of course, if it were me, instead of just mining for links, I’d be using KRON’s resources to talk with the police officers, obtain police reports and the like, hunting down as many sides of the story as I could.

The San Francisco Chronicle: “Editor’s Note: Beginning today, a slightly shortened version of Mark Morford’s column will run in the Datebook section of the print edition of The Chronicle, every Wednesday and Friday. The full version, with active links, will continue to appear on SFGate.com.”

Salon: “But the new leading men on television have lost that battle, or never even bothered to fight it. They’re all solitary supermen. Lonesome savants who seem to know everything there is to know — except how, or even why, to talk to women. Why have these still young, handsome guys given up, when the less young, less handsome and more drunk Sipowicz didn’t? Is it a question of timing? Did Sipowicz just reflect the Clinton-era fascination with moral fallibility and self-improvement? Maybe the new TV hero is perfect for Bush America: He’s always right, and certain of his rightness, and sees his isolation as proof of that rightness. But then again, George Bush is hardly the staunch defender of rationality and science that the bug collectors are. And these guys have great fun at the expense of “believers” of all stripes. In fact, that’s their problem: their middle-aged skepticism knows no bounds, and extends to the defiantly irrational realm of human relationships.”

During the hours of 4PM-5PM Pacific Standard Time, we’ll be stuck in a windowless room with a speakerless computer and a rat scurrying about on the asbestos-ridden tile that we’ve nicknamed “Pinky” for company. (I named him “Pinky” because when I first said hello, he decided to bite my pinky and I spent several hours in the hospital getting a tetanus shot.)

But if you’re more fortunate than us and you’re free during that time, you can do no wrong by checking out this afternoon’s broadcast of Radio Open Source, which can be heard online. Mark Sarvas plans to oil up his chest and take LA Times Book Review editor Steve Wasserman into a five-match round that will involve lots of blood being strewn onto blank pages and perhaps more than a few angry tears. Kevin Smokler will also be there, presumably as the voice of reason.

As for us, like the Hag, we’ve been typecast as Lydon’s pariahs.

Hey, kids, want to make a quick buck and try and stop one of the most untalented men in show business in one go? Well, now you can. It seems that Pauly (Jury Duty) Shore has somehow conned TBS into giving him a television show called Minding the Store. If you keep a straight face and don’t laugh (too bad there’s no extra points for outright nausea), Pauly Shore will send you a dollar back.

Unfortunately, according to the rules, “NO MORE THAN 250,000 REQUESTS WILL BE HONORED AND THIS OFFER WILL END ON THE EARLIER OF 8/15/05 OR THE RECEIPT OF 250,000 REQUESTS.” Which means that they’ve budgeted the show to lose $250,000.

Here’s my question: why not more? If my calculations are correct, a three million dollar cap should send a clear and resounding message that Pauly Shore should not be hired under any circumstances.

The real question: Why doesn’t most television operate this way? I’m not sure if it would improve television, but if people demanded their money back, wouldn’t it send a real message to the networks that most of the shit they air is vapid?

• Robert “Hue-Happy Background” Birnbaum talks with crime fiction writer Richard Marnick. Marnick, as reported during our BEA coverage, has led an extraordinary life as an ex-cop, ex-con, and a union writer tunnel. And Marnick gives Birnbaum the goods on Boyos and more.
• Pope John Paul II approved of Harry Potter, but Ratzinger doesn’t. Pope Benedict XVI has also gone on record to state that ice cream cones and roller coasters are the work of the devil.
• I must say that this headline is wrong. It should read “Coffee shop offers no chance or tablespace for writers.”
• The SF Weekly offers a brief blurb for Michelle Tea, who would probably make a better modifier over the Warfield than the SF Weekly.
• Introducing BritLitBlogs, a consortium of six British literary blogs.
• If you thought the Patriot Act library and bookstore records battle was over, think again. Librarians are concerned with the Bush administration’s determination to make reinstating Section 215 a top priority this year.
• Mike West really doesn’t like Spin.
• Tayari Jones on going to Bible school while atheist. (via Maud)
• Rake has the goods on Cormac McCarthy from this month’s Vanity Fair.
• History textbooks aren’t just being diluted in American schools. Otawara, Japan has approved a book downplaying the Rape of Nanking, completely overlooking the sexual ensalvement of women.
• Back in the 1960s, San Quentin was one of the few prisons that attempted “bibliotherapy.” Because of this, prisoners became literate and several of them became writers. (And in fact, Eldridge Cleaver wrote and sold Soul on Ice while in San Quentin.) So it’s very good to see that new reading programs are being tried out at various Bay Area prisons. (And for a related story, check out Mark Sarvas’ account of teaching writing to at-risk juvenile offenders.)
• Terry McMillan’s latest homophobia: “He’s the one who is gay.” I didn’t realize that one’s sexual orientation mattered as much as one’s actions do in a messy divorce. So am I to conclude that not being gay means you’re not “a habitual liar” or “a sociopath”?

Tito alerts me to this article at the Voice that involves sharing absinthe and conversation with William T. Vollmann. There’s some fascinating revelations about what Vollmann thinks about post-9/11 politics and how Vollmann tries as hard as possible to live, as well as observe, the lives of others. But the most interesting remark is this:

“There are people dead as a result of [American] political and religious praxis,” he says. “Whether we owe those dead bodies a tight, middle, or panoramic gaze, we owe those dead bodies a story.”

(And for what it’s worth, long gestating in the Future Entries Department is my final entry on The Rainbow Stories for The Vollmann Club. I finished the book a month ago, but hope to go through it story-by-story.)

Kevin Smith now has a blog. What’s odd is that the man is determined to chronicle everything. He has a post up every day. Even more disturbing: the man casually reveals that he eats almost nothing but sausage and fesses up to “delicious little fuck sessions.”

(All criticisms of Mr. Smith’s public posturing aside, I should note that Jersey Girl was unfairly maligned, that the film dared to offer a visceral take on fatherhood and life choices when Smith acolytes expected more Jay and Silent Bob, and I hope that Mr. Smith continues to develop as a filmmaker.)

Washington. The White House.

Enter KARL ROVE

Rove: Now is the moment where Plame will pay
Made glorious by our gov’ment secured
And all the clouds that lowr’d upon the Left
Not nigh the bosom of state secrets buried.
Now are our brows bound with unilateral wreaths;
Our bruised reporters thrown in jail;
Our false alarums changed to random orange;
The dreadful bias squashed by delightful measures.
But I, that am not shap’d for Adonis tricks,
But made to court a haughty looking-glass;
I, that am rotundly stamp’d, declared an evil genius
To strut before a wanton bumbling Bush;
I, that will be pardoned before thrown away,
Eluding social justice, and bars which confine;
To set the hounds upon Prince Scott
My fingers fold for further plans;
Hark, reporters come!

Enter JOURNALISTS, chasing SCOTT MCCLELLAN. ROVE hides behind curtain.

Journalist #1: How now, odd Scott? What falsehoods hath thou wrought?
Journalist #2: In June the King did plege to purge, and now your hands are caught!
Scott: Do scratch thy pads. I’ll never ‘fess. The investigation’s on.
I’m well aware of what I said. Your questions do now con.
I’m glad to talk when an apt sun sets
Or our polls go up, or your appetite whets
If you’ll let me finish, I’ll aid and abet…
Did I say that? Shit, I’m toast.
Journalist #3: You’re not saying much.
Journalist #4: Where’s your Midas touch?
Journalist #2: It’s the same thing through and through.
Journalist #3: It’s a bad spot, Scott.
Journalist #1: Out out damned spot?
Journalist #2: I’d cop or you’ll be through.
Scott: Again, I’ve rejoined. You’re aware and I know.
You continue to ask. Let me breathe.
I appreciate questions and welcome suggestions
Will you titter when I go home and seethe?

ROVE from behind curtain.

Rove: They’ve unearthed my grand plans!
But I’m Bush’s brain. And they daren’t loosen my hold
If they fry me in jail or a scum pounds my tail
I’ll return, raging wolf in the fold

The Royal Shakespeare Company will perform every known piece of writing by Shakespare. Within one year.

That’s damn ambitious and damn cool.

Here are some more details:

• 18 British theatre companies are involved.
• Sir Ian McKellen will play King Lear.
• Dame Judi Dench will be in a musical adaptation of The Merry Wives of Windsor.
• Patrick Stewart to be in The Tempest.

Jimmy Beck points to this page listing writers and their preferred typewriters, which seems apropos to Ms. Frye’s Not-So-Tangerine Writing Implement Epic.

• Just when you thought it was safe to return to the bookstores, an author named Barbara Delinksy has actually revived the Peyton Place series. Is Peyton Place as scandalous as it once was? Can it hope to restore the same admixture of wonder and scandal that Grace Metalious used to enchant Eisenhower voters? Well, I have my doubts. Not because Delinsky’s written 70 books or because she was kind enough to write to us from the lake, but because she can’t spell “germane “.
• A Yeats album has fetched £72,000 at an auction. The album includes 18 letters from Yeats to his friend, Sir Sidney Cockerell, and the manuscript of his essay, “The Tragic Theatre.” There is also an original draft of one of Yeats’ poems that reads, “When you are old and grey and full of water,/And a WC cannot be found and you shall burst, scream for help.” But this work appears to have been abandoned.
• Gunter Grass is interviewed by Deutsche Welle during one of his regular visits to Gdnask. I wish I were making this up, but it looks like Grass was even asked to beat a tin drum. What next? Asking Grass to wear a dog suit or asking him to play cat and mouse?
• For the 100th anniversary of Dreiser’s An American Tragedy, Herkimer County hopes to commemorate the murder that inspired Dreiser. Police have been commissioned to prevent die-hard Dreiserites from going too far during the festivities.
• Pop quiz: Does the phrase “Thousands more are demanding ownership” come from an article on eminent domain or the Harry Potter hoopla. Here’s your answer.
• As widely reported, publisher Bryon Preiss has died.
• And bookmobiles may be dying in the States, but they’re thriving in Indonesia.

A hearty congratulations to Bud Parr, who celebrates two years of blogging at the always excellent Chekhov’s Mistress and can also be found contributing at 400 Windmills and the (nearly finished!) Sonnet Media.

It appears that the J in M.J. Rose’s name stands for “Julavits.”

Without naming names or citing any specific examples (or, for that matter, actually invoking an argument for why any of it is bad), M.J. Rose offers us yet another piece of flummery complaining about what she identifies as “whining” (and what the rest of us might call identifying and criticizing specific publishing issues so as to better understand them) on the blogosphere. Her ostensible point is “because there are over 195,000 books published a year and they can’t all get reviews in the NYTBR.”

Well, it’s clear that Ms. Rose fails to comprehend the argument. The amount of books being published is not the issue. It’s the substantive nature of how the current publishing industry is being covered and represented in print that the blogosphere is being taken to task. It’s not all bad. But as demonstrated here and at other places, it has been repeatedly shown that the NYTBR continues to give fiction (and specifically literary fiction) the shaft and maintain a balance of male-to-female book reviewers that is completely out of step with the current population (and, in particular, readers). (By the way, a Tanenhaus Brownie Watch is in the works for last Sunday.)

Second, what’s wrong with complaints anyway? Voicing grievances is often a good way to get a discussion going and it allows all of us to work together towards contemplating a solution. Plus, it serves as a catharsis for all involved. Publishing is a tough business, one that involves working on a book for years only to see a meager advance completely out of proportion with the labor expended. It’s enough to drive just about any stable person crazy.

But most importantly, there’s something important that needs to be said here. Why should anybody take an opinion seriously when the person who posits it continues to engage in a passive-aggressive approach to intellctualism without a specific example? I say this because Ms. Rose continues to perpetuate an image as a publishing wag, yet continuously refrains from stating her larger points, stopping at “You’ll notice I haven’t linked to any of the whining.” Either she’s afraid of offending or interested in getting out of her “arguments” when backed into a corner, presumably so that she can tell you in person, “Oh, I wasn’t really talking about you!”

If Ms. Rose has a beef with me or another blog, that’s fine. I’m not going to take offense. What I do take offense to is the idea of anyone presenting herself as an expert and then using their blog as some sort of reserved pulpit instead of contributing to the active discourse.

There have been many times where I’ve vehemently disagreed with many of the fine folks on the left, both publicly and privately. But I also respect them as adults — meaning that I know that they are grown up enough to engage in a conversation and not take some of my more exuberant views too much to heart (or vice versa). We’re all passionate about books and publishing, but that doesn’t mean we all think the same or can’t challenge each other.

So my question to Ms. Rose is this: Why not have the courage to say what you genuinely think so that some of us out here can actually understand your points? Or is that too much to expect from someone long in the habit of applying the hypocritical “etiquette” of Emily Post to the blogosphere?

It looks like the levels of post-terrorist incident guilt that we’ve had here in the States are being reproduced in London and affecting the literary world. Chris Cleave is asking whether or not it’s appropriate for him to promote a novel that includes a fictional terrorist attack at a soccer game.

As someone who forced himself to continue writing a screenplay involving terrorism the very week after 9/11 while in another country, I’d say that the answer for Cleave is very simple: grow some balls and don’t let the bastards get you down. These folks aren’t afraid. Why should writers be? To remain in a suspended state about whether art is appropriate or not is to let the terrorists win (or some similar crazed sentiment that isn’t so half-baked and hackneyed). It’s also damn spineless to boot.

God damn you all to hell, Dalkey! Quit this whole 100 books for $500 bidness! Why, for that price I could probably summon an outcall and maybe get the escort to read me some Flann O’Brien just before performing fellatio on me! Hell, maybe she could do both! (Yesterday, I felt my futon showing signs of collapse after two years of solid sleep and other activities. I turned on my side and, when I felt that nobody was there beside me, I weeped into a pile of hardcovers and rearranged these sturdy squares into the form of a woman under the blanket. Sadly, my penis collided into one of the spines, causing a large and painful bruise, and I have been applying ice to my crotch ever since. I understand if other people choose to stave off loneliness in other ways.) All this is a roundabout way of saying that you should give your money to Dalkey because what they do is fantastic and that nachos are nothing to be ashamed of.

With all the recent talk about movie box office slumps, could it be that the declining grosses have something to do with the rising ticket price? In the past year, we’ve seen movie ticket prices rise from $8 to $10. Those two dollars may be small potatoes for most of us, but let’s say that you’re a family of four operating on an extremely tight budget. Suddenly, you’re now paying eight extra dollars per week (or what was once the price of one movie ticket).

Factor in the loud movie ads that thunder during those hideous “20 Minute Countdown” presentations before the movie, working against parents who are trying to get the kids settled down, and the fact that movies have seriously declined in quality, and the problem from a family perspective becomes apparent. Moreover, considering the rise in talkers, I wonder if this has less to do with home theatre environments and more to do with walking into a theatre and hearing not some soft music playing over the speakers so that people can settle down, but getting a projected movie with advertisements and hollow trivia.

And lest any sleazy Michael Medved types come around here preaching about “indecent” films that families don’t really want to see, I don’t think it’s the content or type of movie that matters. But families do go to movies. All types of movies. Everything from the latest Dreamworks animated epic to a serious drama.

If the movie business truly wanted to halt the gradual taper, then they might consider (1) reducing the ticket price from $10 to $8 by promising movie theatres a greater percentage of the gross, (2) reduce second-week dropoff by reducing supply (i.e., number of screens) and increasing deamnd, (3) demand a theatrical environment that is less intrusive and ad-centric and that actually relaxes people as they sit down, and (4) stop treating audiences as morons and make smart, entertaining, and story-centric movies.

Gawker has been mining this MySpace blog about a 26 year old working in the publishing industry who was fired for blogging. The only thing we have to say is that we’re extremely distrubed that anyone in their mid-twenties would use “totally” on a regular basis in their writing (and to be clear on this, using this modifier before the verb rather than after), let alone hired in the publishing industry or (since things have LIKE TOTALLY turned up for bluegirl24ny), a copy editor.

We wouldn’t mind being copy editors ourselves, but we haven’t been hired because we TOTALLY read the Chicago Manual of Style for pleasure (preferring to revere language instead of butchering it), we live in San Francisco (about as far removed from the center of publishing as one could get), and we don’t really have the sexy curves of a nubile twentysomething young lady who plops nothing but Nutrabars on a supermarket checkout scanner. So we’re SOL. TOTALLY!

Michiko Kakutani: “Jack’s ‘melancholic logorrhea’ might yield some useful therapeutic results, but in terms of storytelling, it makes for a tedious, self-indulgent and cruelly eye-glazing read.”

The Cleveland Plain Dealer: “Perhaps in an attempt to depict that innocence, Irving has created a personality-free main character who spends much of the story in a curiously passive state. Do such people exist? Everywhere. They are as frustrating in real life as they are in books.”

Boston Globe: “Irving takes no more notice of an amputated limb than a stray pimple. A shattered life impels no more wobble in his plot’s dense tread than a crumbled cookie strewn across a graying plate, so the reader is deprived of a useful collision with a sensibility truly at odds with one’s own.”

New York Daily News: “[T]he book is emotionally barren, antsy in its execution, and too precious by half.”

[ALSO RELATED: Jimmy Beck’s “Hip Hoputani”]

Magazines have long pulled the ignoble trick of getting their subscribers to sign on for multiple years, suggesting with repeated correspondence and feverish pitches that subscriptions are in jeopardy when there’s still plenty of time to renew. And if you’re a person (like me), who subscribes to about six billion periodicals, then you send in your check on impulse, only to find that you’ve unexpectedly signed on for another two and a half years.

(I won’t name names, but I’ll just say that certain magazine empires are even more egregious than this. When the magazine folds after a handful of issues, they don’t even bother to refund a partial amount to their subscribers unless the subscriber calls them. But most of them forget and, of course, take their sweet time in sending out the checks.)

But Wired‘s treatment of its subscribers takes the cake. Apparently, Wired assumes that if a subscriber doesn’t renew his subscription, then the magazine automatically assumes that the subcriber wants to renew. If there is no written notice provided by the subscriber, they sic the North Shore Agency, a major debt-collection firm, upon the reluctant renewer.

One San Francisco resident, Bob McMillan, received a variety of letters reading “Request for Payment” and “Account Status: Delinquent.” (A sample letter can be found here.)

There is no doubt in my mind that Boing Boing will not mention any of this. After all, all of its authors contribute regularly to Wired. This seems hypocritical to me, considering how EFF-friendly and pro-individual they present themselves to be.

Further, Wired isn’t the only one doing this. One subscriber reports that PC Magazine has been nebulous about the number of times the magazine is published and automatically renewed his subscription without his permission. Another blogger experienced a Kafkaesque moment when he was hassled on the phone by Time. (See the May 28, 2005 entry.) (And interestingly enough, the Time Inc. Magazine Group was the subject of a multi-state investigation into their subscription practices two years ago.)

Apparently, Wired is able to do this through direct-mail solicitations that contain a clause in fine print — what is sometimes referred to as advanced consent marketing. But are these clauses clear and conspicuous enough to the magazine subscriber. Even the MPA notes that magazine subsciptions have guidelines, subject to Federal Trade Commission regulations:

The customer must take an action to demonstrate affirmative consent, such as checking a box, affixing a stamp, pushing a number on a telephone keypad, pushing a key on a computer keyboard, clicking a mouse, giving an oral response, or returning an order form. The customer should have all the material terms of the sale, disclosed in a clear and conspicuous manner, prior to taking the action demonstrating affirmative consent.

The FTC suggests that anyone who has been misled into automatic renewal to contact their state Attorney General or local consumer protection office.

But if automatic renewal has become such a major problem, then perhaps government legislation that upholds the clear and conspicuous consent of a consumer and that enacts substantial fines and punitive damages upon the magazines who mislead their readers is a better answer.

There are two types of people: people who get geeky and groove to Rush and people who don’t. If, like me, you’re one of the former, then you’ll enjoy this eyepopping CGI animation of Peart playing the drums for “YYZ.” (via MeFi)

Solid coverage from The Mumpsimus regarding Readercon:

Jonathan Lethem Samuel R. Delaney said that he read a western story by Theodore Sturgeon that, in the first half, was a beautiful Sturgeon story, and then in the second half was also a beautiful Sturgeon story, but a different one, and the experience of reading this story then made him want to write a western that was more unified but still beautiful, and this impulse was enough to get him thinking about something new to write [I forget what he said it was came out of this — maybe one of the stories in his first collection]. Writing, he said, comes from an urge to write something like someone else who inspired you, or to fix something that you read by someone else.

[UPDATE: It was Delaney, not Lethem. Thanks, Kathryn!]

M. John Harrison: “My gut instinct is that we ought to talk less to each other. Some people think that religion is to blame here. I think it’s something prior to that. I think it’s language. You can’t do religion until you have language. You can’t promise someone ‘freedom’ (Bush) or ‘paradise’ (bin Laden) except with words; those items are labels without a referent. And if I have to read another article by Martin Amis or Ian McEwan — middle class wankers who have never been in harm’s way their whole lives, competing with one another to produce dully clever, middle-aged Britpap about real events; or if I have to hear another soundbite in which Slimy Tony, dressed up in a casual jacket to look ‘hard’, licks the arse of the biggest bully in the global playground by ‘pledging’ himself; or if I have to hear any more investment bankers presenting themselves as wounded martyrs in the ruins of the Church of Money; or if I have to hear another Islamic spokesman misappropriate the words ‘caution’ and ‘evidence’; I think I might fly an aeroplane into something myself. Only so I don’t have to hear words any more. Do you see? I’m fucking sick of words because I’ve spent nearly forty years manipulating people with them for a living, and they don’t come near being the thing itself. All rhetoric, including mine, is empty rhetoric. Every death is a real one.”

More Harrison interviews can be found at Strange Horizons, Cyberdark, and Zone SF. His work is highly recommended.

As if the 9/11 victimhood card being played by politicians to start wars based on fixed intelligence and now being used by priapic reactionaries to prop up London as a fait accompli for living in chronic fear* weren’t bad enough, it seems that the Portland Tribune has seen fit to offer yet another ridiculous article about how 9/11 has made it difficult to finish novels. Here’s what novelist Richard Rinaldi has to say:

“And because so much had changed, I was aware that I’d probably lost a novel, but so what? In the scheme of things it didn’t matter. My options were to just throw it away or put it another city. But my agents were leaning on me to include 9/11. Initially I was very reluctant, but I came around and said, ‘All right, I’ll give it a try.’ “

For those who haven’t been watching the calendar, 9/11 was three and a half fucking years ago. In other words, most of the time it takes to finish an undergraduate degree (assuming that you’re on the four year plan).

While certainly 9/11 has changed American life, I’m disheartened by the idea that a novel itself must completely change or drastically alter its content to reflect the jingoism of its time. Particularly when authors are, for the most part, paid a pittance to sweat over a novel that they’ve labored over for many years. The thing that matters is what the author has to say at the time he writes it. Wrapping a novel around the American flag or a sense of victimhood that will date poorly is hypocritical to the nature of art, and I would argue that it’s akin to a total sellout. Do we really need a marketplace saturated with potboilers that represent today’s answers to Peter Bryant’s Red Alert? Further, is a literary effort truly literature if it answers to the dicta of what’s hot with the public? Besides, from a marketing standpoint, this seems anathema to the nature of publishing, given that a book undergoes a two-year production process and attitudes are likely to change.

Technorati Tags: publishing, artistic integrity, Richard Rinaldi, jingoism, sellout

* — For more on this subject, Ian McEwan has penned an essay for the Guardian on how the London bombings were inevitable.

The battle between the two San Francisco alt-weeklies (one a New Times offshoot; the other indie and full of piss and vinegar) continues. But as the Guardian has reported, things have become a little sleazier. It seems that Clear Channel, known for promoting conservative radio and restricting free speech, has entered the fray. Bill Graham Presents, which owns the Warfield Theatre, is a Clear Channel subsidiary. In exchange for an exclusive advertising deal with SF Weekly, the Warfield over the next three years will be renamed (wait for it) the SF Weekly Warfield.

Pacific Bell Park was silly enough. But I think this corporate subsidizing takes the cake in the preposterous department. For one thing, “weekly” has transformed from a noun to an accidental advertising. One can only imagine future conversations among avid concertgoers:

Abbott: Hey man, you gonna check out the Killers?

Costello: Aw shit yeah! Gotta grab some tickets. Where they playing?

Abbott: The SF Weekly Warfield?

Costello: Where is it this week?

Abbott: No, the SF Weekly Warfield.

Costello: I know it’s weekly, but what kind of Warfield is it going to be?

Abbott: That’s the theatre’s name.

Costello: Gotcha, but where’s it going to be?

Abbott: In San Francisco. At the Weekly.

Costello: The Warfield?

Abbott: Yup.

Costello: And it changes every week.

Abbott: Yes. The music, not the place.

Costello: So where’s the Warfield going to be?

Technorati Tags: alt-weekly, warfield, San Francisco

I’ve let the Tanenhaus Brownie Watch updates slip for the past month. However, I’d like to ensure RotR readers that this Sunday, the weekly test will return, including the seminal male to female book reviewer test. In the meantime, the prolific Lauren Baratz-Logsted offers a guest essay over at Booksquare about bias against female reviewers. Ms. Baratz-Logsted offers her thoughts on this issue, takes up the troubling divide between male and female authors, and points to “[a] book review created by, for and about women; a book review that has room for Joyce Carol Oates, every single one of her books as they come out, but that also has room for all genres.” Until this utopian ideal happens, I direct readers to Domestic Goddess, a moderated e-journal devoted to womenwriters who pen domestic fiction, A Celebration of Women Writers, which has been attempting to collect online information on women writers for the past eleven years, Scribbling Women, and the Women Writers Project, which collects texts penned by women between 1400 and 1850.

Technorati Tags: women writers, NYTBR

I’m hoping it’s either serendipity or perhaps a subconsious riff on the deisgn similarities manifest within book covers, but it looks like the New York Times may have ripped off Nathalie Chicha. Not only did Andrew Adam Newman use the same examples that Nathalie used, but he quoted the blog Foreword, quite literally jonesing Foreword’s proprietor for examples rather than doing the legwork himself. (That would involve going to a bookstore and using a pair of eyes.)

It can be argued that a good journalist essentially collects information and assembles it. But the real question I have to ask is why Newman didn’t at least consult Nathalie in the course of writing his article, particularly when she was the one who ferreted out the issue in the first place and when a link to her visual examples was featured in the comments section at Foreword. Newman could have included a simple sentence along the lines of “Nathalie Chicha, editor of the blog Galleycat, has collected several interpretive examples of what these covers might mean.”

I would suggest that tracking the original source of an association is what a paid journalist should be expected to do. It’s decent and ethical and it also allows you to swap information with the enthused experts. Everybody wins.

(While I am not paid to blog here, I do go out of my way to attribute the original source, if I have found an item from somebody else — because it’s just possible that for anyone interested in the topic, there may be a debate or an additional debate or possibly a fantastic rabbit hole to head down.)

Most bloggers do this. It’s not entirely perfect, given that we’re posting entries on the fly, but it is possible to track linkage. However, if this is a case where bloggers are doing a better job of accrediting a source than Andrew Adam Newman, the real question is why the Times didn’t hire Nathalie Chicha to write the piece. She had the knowledge, she had the curiosity, and if a bit of cash and a shrewd and encouraging editor had been thrown her way, I’m convinced she would have dug up the reasoning behind the design similarities.

As widely reported throughout the blogosphere (and with a particularly heartfelt tribute from Sarah), the man who signed his checks Evan Hunter and who offered books under the names Hunter and Ed McBain has passed on. He was 78.

My first introduction to Hunter’s books were through a few hardcovers that somebody had given to me. This person was going to throw the tomes away and, being a selective packrat when it comes to books, I stopped him in the nick of time. Let’s just say that I was dubious about the “sultry” women on the covers, who sported pistols and wore their hair in dated feathery 1980s efforts to look what some publisher perceived as “trashy.” Presumably, it moved books. But the look of these ladies, to my eyes anyway, was about as morally compromised as It’s a Wonderful Life‘s George Bailey.

But I read them anyway. And found that the text itself was far from the pinup cliches on the cover. These were cops who had sizable problems, inhabiting a gritty world that was damn near hopeless, but bristling with life as if to defy the hard breaks. What made the McBain novels work were the telling details tossed so effortlessly throughout the text. A carefully wiped counterpane or a hastily tied garbage bag wouldn’t just give you a hint to the crime. It would tell you everything you needed to know about the people.

I’ve only read a few of his novels and that was many years ago. But now than Hunter’s gone, I hope I can work in some time to check out a good deal more.

• Emails being sent in to The Sun.
• Someone has already turned the attacks into a comic. Incredible turnaround time.
• Specific details on the blasts from The Guardian.
• Flickr: The London Explosion Pool.
• At the Huffington Post, Andrei Cherny suggests that the bombings will be a test to see if the U.S. can reciprocate Tony Blair’s pledge to America during 9/11 and Simon Jenkins pleas for normalcy.
• “The front of the building was covered with blood.”

Technorati Tags: London Underground, terrorism, London, headlines