Author Archives: luvgoodcarp

Charles Portis – Truly Gritful

Charles Portis’ True Grit, which was published in 1968, is considered a classic American Western, and that’s a shame because in reality it’s a classic regardless of genre. The story is narrated by the flawless Mattie Ross. Now to be clear, the only thing that’s flawless about Mattie is her storytelling.

Mattie is an old woman when the book opens. It’s the 1920s, and the Old West is long gone. Mattie is a smart woman. There are only two things in the world she loves: her church and her bank. But she doesn’t want to talk about them. She wants to talk about her quest to avenge her father’s “blood over in the Choctaw Nation when snow was on the ground.” It was in the 1870s, and Mattie was 14 years old. Her father, the “gentlest, most honorable man who ever lived,” was gunned down by Tom Chaney, a hired hand on her family’s Arkansas farm. Mattie travels alone to Fort Smith to finish her father’s business and start a little business of her own. She’s going to bring Chaney to justice, dead or alive.

But Chaney has escaped to the Indian Nation, which is just over the Arkansas state line in Oklahoma. That territory is a “sink of crime” but that’s not the Indians’ fault. They’ve been “cruelly imposed upon by the felonious intruders from the States.” The local sheriff has no jurisdiction in Indian territory, so Mattie needs the assistance of a U.S. Marshal. She asks for references and settles on Rooster Cogburn, a “pitiless man, double-tough, and fear don’t enter into his thinking. He loves to pull a cork.” He’s a man with grit. A Texas ranger, LaBoeuf (pronounced LaBeef) is also looking for Chaney because he killed a state senator. This odd trio goes into the Indian Nation searching for a killer. What’s the worst that could happen?

This isn’t Disney’s version of the Old West. There are no singing cowboys on horseback. Actually, LaBoeuf does sing some, but you get my point. Mattie can recall “when half the old ladies in the county were ‘dopeheads.'” I never heard anyone in the Apple Dumpling Gang say that. There’s a high body count, and no one returns unscathed.

Rooster Cogburn is an iconic character in American literature, but the story is a classic because it’s told by Mattie Ross. Her voice is matter-of-fact, unintentionally humorous at times, and indelible. “I have known some horses and a good many more pigs who I believe harbored evil intent in their hearts. I will go further and say all cats are wicked though often useful.” You’ll remember Mattie Ross for a long time. She’s the one with true grit.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

Didn’t See That One Coming

We, here, at Pungent Sound Journal of Pulp Poetry would like to commend the International Press Corps for its incisive undercover reporting on a major international scandal. We, also, freely admit that we dropped the ball. We were duped. It embarrasses us to say so, but the truth is the truth, and the truth is the press’ currency of the realm.

We didn’t see it coming, and we’re galled by the brazenness of the deception. Like all intelligent people of good will, we trusted the British monarchy. After all, it earned our trust after hundreds of years of selfless service and beneficial works. So we were stunned when every global news agency reported for 48 uninterrupted hours that the British royal family doctored a picture for the sole purpose of making themselves look good.

We were even more surprised that the most pampered and privileged people in the world – people who do nothing all day long and are lavishly rewarded for it – could suck so bad at photo editing. Presenting a false image of happiness and respectability has been their only job for 100 years or so.

So kudos to you International Press Corps. The people of Haiti, Gaza, Israel, and Ukraine thank you for keeping the world focused on the truly important stories impacting humanity.

Saffron Crow, Photo Doctoring Editor

The Further Dangers of Being a Pretend Poet

The thing about writing poetry is
no one cares that you write poetry.
I found that curious at first.

Then I joined a writing group.

And the thing about a writing group is
no one cares that you write.
I found that curious at first.

Then I read what they wrote
and I'm no longer curious.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief

Stardust Casts a Spell

Neil Gaiman describes his short novel, Stardust, as a “fairytale for grown-ups.” That’s apt but not helpful. All his novels are adult fairytales, and that’s a good thing. There’s something appealing about a writer who finds the world magical, and it makes Stardust an enjoyable read.

The story opens in the village of Wall in England when Queen Victoria was young. That’s vague but helpful because Queen Victoria was old far longer than she was young. As the name suggests, Wall is a solid fixture firmly set in our world, but the walled town borders Faerie, which is each “land that has been forced off the map by explorers and the brave going out and proving it wasn’t there.” As a result Faerie is fantastical and huge, and Wall is there to keep the two worlds separate. But as every fairytale reader knows, walls are useless against magic.

And magic is everywhere, because the Faerie Market, an event that happens once every nine years, has arrived just outside of town. All sorts of enchanted items are for sale. At one stall, Dunstan meets a beautiful faerie girl who’s been enslaved by a witch. And as every fairytale reader knows, faeries be horny. Dunstan and the faerie spend an aerobic night together. Nine months later a bundle arrives outside the wall, and it has Dunstan’s name on it. He names the boy Tristran.

We jump ahead 17 years, and Tristran is single and ready to mingle, particularly with a pretty village girl named Victoria, but she refuses to even kiss him. When they see a falling star land in Faerie, Victoria agrees to grant Tristran anything he desires if he brings her the star.

Quests are perfect plot devices, because they have a way of changing people and what they think they desire. Every fairytale must have a quest, so here we are. Tristran walks into Faerie “too ignorant to be scared, too young to be awed.” Faerie is beautiful and treacherous, and Tristran isn’t the only one searching for the star, who has transformed into a luminous young woman. Her name is Yvaine. A witch has deadly plans for Yvaine, and a Machiavellian nobleman needs the enchanted amulet in Yvaine’s possession. They’re prepared to kill anyone who interferes.

Tristran finds Yvaine first, but she was injured in the fall. How will he get her to Wall when two powerful adversaries are in quick pursuit? Perhaps that unicorn will help.

Gaiman knows how to cast a spell. He seems to believe life is a gift and the world, though it can be cruel and dangerous, is full of wonders. At one point, Tristran writes a note to his mother. “Have been unexpectedly detained by the world. Expect to see us when you see us.” Is this Gaiman speaking for himself or for all of us?

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

The Poet Taster

Why does Homer's Muse disdain me?
Why won't nymphs touch my flute?
When heroes sail the wine-dark sea
why do I stay home and salute?

When will I know love from lust?
Why do both turn my brain to peat?
Why are lies the only words I trust?
Why is mud the only pie I eat?

My miserable muse is a mouse in a cage
who refuses to obey my command
and when I touch the cold, chaste page
it slaps the dry pen out of my hand.

Wicked muse, eat your stale cheese
but blow your foul breath on another fake,
allow my feeble tongue to unfreeze
for I've forms to fill and calls to make
and I'm nearing the end of my coffee break.

Luvgood Cap, Editor-in-Chief

Fortunately, the Internet Has Everything You Need

People always say to me Hey, Luvgood, you’re one cool dude. How can I be as cool as you? So I tell them: create a blog. And they respond Whoa, now. Shouldn’t I learn to walk before I try to run? And they have a valid point. Creating a blog isn’t easy.  It takes hours. 

Fortunately, the internet has everything you need.  Several vendors will happily provide you with dozens of templates for a fee.  It’s like the Bible says:  if you have a dream and the money to pay for it, the internet will provide. 

Once you’ve selected the best template you can afford, you need to choose a jarring background hue to emphasize a scalding letter color.  Whenever WordPress allows it, I go for angry red letters on a white background. The red represents the rage that can be found everywhere these days. 

All that’s left is choosing the font and font size.  Font is essential.  It says everything about your blog’s personality.  Are you old fashioned like The New York Times?  Choose Plantagenet Cherokee.  Are you a prig like The New Republic?  Choose Garamond.  Are you a pompous snob like the New Yorker?  Choose Franklin Gothic Book.  If you’re cool and approachable, choose the font I use. It’s the one mandated by WordPress. That just leaves font size, and here it really doesn’t matter what you pick, because no one reads blogs.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief    

Nefertiti N.Y.C.

Crook Manifesto is the follow up to Colson Whitehead’s splendid Harlem Shuffle, but the 1960s are now in the Wayback Machine. This is New York City in the 1970s. Harlem is still Harlem, but the rest of the city is following its faltering lead. ”You knew the city was going to hell if the Upper East Side was starting to look like crap, too.” As always, the city is in transition. In one neighborhood it’s “Jews and Italians out, blacks in” and in another it’s the Spanish replacing the Germans and Irish.

Fortunately, Ray Carney is still around, but he has transitioned too. He’s focused on his Harlem furniture business. He no longer fences jewelry. But “crooked stays crooked,” and it’s not long before Carney returns to his side hustle. ”What else was an ongoing criminal enterprise complicated by periodic violence for, but to make your wife happy?”

The story is divided into three loosely-connected parts. The first one opens in 1971. Carney has promised his teenage daughter tickets to the sold-out Jackson 5 show. But Carney knows a guy – a crooked white cop – who supposedly has tickets and will give them to Carney if he helps the cop run some “errands,” a euphemism for robbing everyone the cop can think of, because he’s being investigated for corruption and he’s about to leave town.

Part 2 takes place in 1973. Carney is an investor in a Blaxploitation film wonderfully called Nefertiti T.N.T. There’s a problem. The female lead has disappeared. ”They were making a movie about dirty Harlem and then the real thing came up and bit them in the ass.” To the reader’s delight, this brings Pepper back. Pepper is Carney’s mentor, a father figure who (sometimes) protects Carney from himself and other criminals. Pepper knows what he’s doing, and he’s hired to find the actress. 

In Part 3, it’s 1976. The bicentennial is being celebrated with the crass commercialism New York City excels at. Harlem’s criminal gangs have transitioned in the intervening five years as well. Carney and Pepper have inadvertently contributed to some of those changes. When a flippant remark from an old rival pisses Carney off, he lights a match causing a conflagration that burns what’s left of old Harlem to the ground.

Carney is immensely likeable and relatable. He’s a family man. Sure, he’s also a part-time criminal, but he lives by a code. ”A man has a hierarchy of crime, of what is morally acceptable and what is not, a crook manifesto, and those who subscribe to lesser codes are cockroaches.” He’s the thread that successfully pulls the novel’s three parts together, but let’s be clear: The novel’s glue is New York City, and it steals every scene.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

Get Me the Slow Horses

If you like spy novels and you’re not reading Mick Herron’s Slough House series, what’s wrong with you? Are you consumed with self-loathing? Are you mean to children? Not obnoxious children. I have no problem with that. I’m referring to nice children. Do you enjoy treating nice children badly?

This isn’t me asking. It’s my neighbor. She loves this series, and she has excellent taste. I love the series too, but my taste is suspect.

Spook Street is the fourth installment in the series. It brings back Jackson Lamb, the delightfully acerbic and misanthropic head of the slow horses, a group of British MI5 spies who’ve fairly or unfairly been relegated to Slough House because they’re misfits, losers, or nuisances. Slough House is “where they sent you when they wanted you to go away, but didn’t want to sack you in case you got litigious about it.” When there’s an emergency and national security is at risk, no one yells “Get me the slow horses.”

Still, national emergencies happen in Britain and somehow the slow horse get tangled up in them. Much to the reader’s relief, that’s what happens once again in Spook Street. The story opens with a bomb going off in a London mall on January 1st. Forty people are killed including the suicide bomber. It should be a straightforward investigation for the real spies at MI5, but it looks like a group secretly funded by a MI5 legend, who’s now retired and has dementia, might be involved. Slough House is pulled in because the MI5 legend is the grandfather of a slow horse.

The slow horses are now on Spook Street, and “When you lived on Spook Street you wrapped up tight: watched every word, guarded every secret.” These are things the slow horses aren’t good at, and MI5 desperately wants to keep all of this a secret. But here’s the “First law of Spook Street. Secrets don’t stay secret.”

Spook Street is another fast paced installment in the Slough House series, and it’s a pleasure to read. But beware, these stories have a body count, and Mick Herron has no problem sending slow horses out to pasture with a bullet.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor

About the College – Updated to Include Vital Information About Barnacles

Hello!

As CEO of Pungent Sound Technical College of Technology, I can tell you we are proud to be a for-profit school.  In fact, it’s an honor to wake up every morning, see our students’ smiling faces on video, and know that we are exclusively devoted to serving our shareholders.

The college is currently located on the tranquil waters of Pungent Sound.  It’s romantic, but don’t let the setting fool you.  The college is very difficult to get into.  Not in the academic sense – if you can pay the tuition, you’re in.  It’s difficult to get into physically, because the college is on a barge, which enables us to move whenever we find it necessary to do so.  But that shouldn’t concern our students, because we offer a virtual education; so if you have a computer, you have a virtual college.

Are you looking for the best education we can offer?  Then you’ve found the right school!  But wait, there’s more.  We can help you secure a loan to pay your tuition.  Our staff is motivated to assist you because they work on commission. 

So why haven’t you applied!?!  Be a Barnacle.  That’s our school mascot, because barnacles have astonishingly long penises; eight times longer than the rest of their bodies, and they reproduce by ejaculating into the ocean.  So dive in and take a swim at Pungent Sound Technical College for Technology.  And remember, I’m not only the CEO; I’m a shareholder. 

Titmouse Beak, CEO of Pungent Sound Technical College of Technology

The Santa Cycle – Part 5

It was the eighth shopping day
before Santa jumps in his sleigh
and sprints around the world
on a trip fueled by meth and cocaine
stealing my cookies and all the acclaim
for the gifts I bought with a card
I'll no longer be allowed to retain.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief