National Poetry Month Honks Mason's Hooter!
- April is National Poetry Month, and Mason enjoyed the heck out of its 1999 version as there
were readings and events all month around Omaha, lending the illusion that
Omaha actually has a poetry scene. He did readings at the Bookworm and at
Barnes & Noble, won a poetry slam at Borders, organized a reading series at
the Bookworm, did two readings for the Omaha libraries as well as teaching a
writing workshop for them with two guys driving around the country in a VW
Bug covered in magnetic poetry kit poems. Yes, and poetry earned Mason rent
money from poetry for the third month ever! And now you can find both of his
self-published chapbooks (Old Froggo's Book of Practical Cows and Desire For
More Cows) in the Omaha Public Libraries. Hard as it may seem to believe,
Mason was actually using his Master's Degree for a while!
French Declare Mason's Dog Panda "A Comedy Genius!"
- French Minister of Culture Louise Jerrie has announced his government
supporting a resolution proclaiming Panda, a female black lab owned by Mason
and Chriss Putz, a genius. "We have long found such profound amusement
at Panda's ‘rope and ball' routine wherein she tries to run amok with both
rope and ball in her little mouth, oh just thinking about it makes me almost
pee myself" announced Jerrie before descending to the floor in fits of
giggling spasms. Later, an assistant continued the speech, declaring Panda,
"that bunny-tormented funny-dog," a virtual goddess of culture,
comedy, and fraternity.
Mason Joins Cult, Changes Name To "Fez-Bud Dooba Doo"
- In March, in the rut of life returning to its pre-National Poetry
Month state, Mason became despondent, drowning his sorrows in buckets of
Diet Dr. Pepper. And then he came across the Church Of The Medium-Sized
Spoon loosely based on a Christian myth where Jesus goes to Hell before he
rises from the dead, and in Hell the devils all beat each other with
humongous forks and spoons since they're so stupid. Anyway, he's renounced
all his poetry as works of a huge-spooned world and made a large soup from
his folders of poems (add poems, chicken, and paprika to boiling water,
let simmer 20 minutes) and then spilled it all over his kitchen when he
stepped on his bourgeois dog, Panda. He now supports the Righteous Muffin
Fez-Bud Stickboy's call for the death of Panda which he issued after she
chewed up a large wooden kitchen spoon in early August. She is rumored to
be hiding in the French region of Provence and chasing small pigs in an
amusing manner.
Mason Returns From Brazil, Declaring "Mission Accomplished!"
- The artist formerly known as Mason went to Brazil in late July on a
mission to blow up the statue of Cristo Redentor overlooking Rio de Janeiro
and replace it with a statue of a more spoon-sized role model, The Pillsbury
Doughboy. He went disguised as a soundman on a video crew filming for
American business travelers going to Brazil for the first time.
He found Brazil a fantastic place, far from the high-crime hotspot warned
about in his guide books. Does he want to go back? Oooooh yes! food,
sights, people, it was 17 days of joy. Here are a few of his observations:
Um: It's fun to watch Star Trek in Portugese. Even more fun to see Mr.
Bumpy from Bump In The Night gettin' jiggy wit Portugese. But why would
anyone translate the Dukes of Hazard into their own tongue?
Dois: In serious atmospheres like college, the students procrastinate by
playing ring-toss with donuts, making potato chip sculptures, renting Ernest
movies, etc. so what do students in clown college do during finals week?
Read Goethe? Write essays about the history of angst?
Três: Feijoada, the national dish--composed of black beans, rice, pig
bits, and something green--is darned tasty. And it was while eating
feijoada that we saw national soccer hero Kafu.
Quatro: Graffiti in São Paulo and Rio appears amazingly high on some
buildings. Edison, our driver in São Paulo, said people say it's either
done by 1)drug gangs 2)kids or 3)aliens.
Cinco: Blew up Huge-Spoon Jesus.
Seis: I met Alexander and Sheila and some other great folks playing
volleyball on the Copacabana Beach after dark.
Sete: Luiz at the Rio airport is a bubbly, happy guy. If at all
possible, when you leave Rio on Varig, get in his line. He wants to come to
America, but says that since he is black and his wife is white, he is afraid
to come to South Carolina.
Oito: My best day in Brazil started with me waking up with diahrea and
ended by me getting stood up at the hotel bar. How is it the best, then?
Because the rest of the day was spent at the Iguaçu Falls between Brazil and
Argentina. From all I've seen of Argentina now, I have to estimate it as
the most beautiful country on earth; if everyone knew what I know, all the
world would live in Argentina except for the cranky misanthropes and who
needs them, they can HAVE Paris. Iguaçu is basically a waterfall that
stretches over a mile in amazing views as you hike through the forest on its
edges. I've been some amazing places, but had not drunk the milk o'
Paradise until that day. I took lots of photos. None of which seem to show
a fraction of it. Sigh....
Nove: Brazil is rumored to have fantastic music. We mainly heard Elton
John, Billy Joel, and the Bee Gees.
Dez: Guaraná Light is the soft drink of the GODS!
Onze: I didn't get a chance to see stars until we were in Salvador, and
though I didn't see the Southern Cross, it was so striking to look up and
see a completely different sky than I've ever seen since I'd never been
below the Equator before.
Doze: We spent one great afternoon in a small town called Cachoeira,
which is out in the countryside. We ran across some cool old buildings and
also a marching church band where people went into various houses, dancing
and singing and drinking some odd juice. We're not sure if it was a
religious celebration or just a weird, communal alarm clock. We also
stumbled into a party for a triumphant soccer team where we were plied with
beer and feijoada. And on returning to Salvador, we ran off to a real,
fanatical, Brazilian futebol game which the home team won 2-0.
Treze: Back in Rio, there was a woman shouting "You my superhero!"
to me. I could explain that one, but it seems far more impressive than it
really is if I leave it at that.
Catorze: The way to tell a tourist in Brazil is that they're the one
without a cellular phone.
Quinze: On my birthday, My sister and I went to the Carmen Miranda
Museum!
Poetry Pages
Questioning The Universe After Waking Up With A Traveler's Illness
Oh, bowels, once my dear, dear friends,
close as any intimate
and closer still,
what has gotten into you
to make you act this way?
These intestines are in rebellion,
my gut is tied in slipknots,
I'll spare you the details
which are beyond polite company....
as if I should care, as
what on earth is to prevent you,
my sweet; you,
my friend; you,
guy I've never met and probably have no reason ever to,
from doing the same?
Coffee And Astronomy
She's alone at a table for four at the bookstore coffee shop,
same as me, and our eyes meet and I think "It's too bad I'm a fuckup,"
and I think "Maybe I could straighten out if it meant I could kiss
her," as she sat like a book I just needed to read, two of us taking up
eight spaces across this place; we could conserve and share, "Think
Globally, Act Locally," sit at the same table in polite mystery of each
other, shower together to save water but I don't know even whether she
cares about that, I can only tell her eyes look dark, she has more
fashion sense than I do, her hair falls like rain, our eyes meet and
I'm scared of her, all her "No"s, all her "Yes"s, her "I want to have a
baby"s, her eyes as small as stars, the light having taken years to
reach me here at this gargantuan table as big as my life.
Nude Reclining On Lawn Furniture
No, Ken, I don't envy your painting,
though, yes,
it's a hell of an ice breaker
to have your talent and ask her
if she might pose
for you.
Poets aren't supposed to need models quite like that,
we're supposed to win a heart
with the finished poem, not the process
of long days spent naked
under your gaze and obvious attention.
It's imagination. It's colored words
when I have to be
more naked than her.
But I do have advantages, places
where my hands can
move over her like water drops, that,
that still
we find in art, in writing, so much
lacking in their blurred reflections
of the beauty we reach for
with hands as soft as breath.
Mason Works the Iowa Straw Poll
- Matt Mason recently helped film bits of the Iowa Straw Poll for NBC
News. MMMagazine had some questions for him and, after his mandatory
quarantine period following such an event, we were able to interview him:
MMM: So were you frightened?
MM: Soldier, you don't know what the word means until you've seen
what I have.
MMM: Um, ok. So which candidate had the best food.
MM: Well, by the time we broke for dinner, Alexander's BBQ was
already gone, and over past Steve Forbes' circuses, he was out of BBQ and
declared "Let them eat mediocre pizzas" which the masses consumed with
gusto. I mainly ate George W.'s BBQ and then kept returning to him to
pilfer Diet Cokes and listen to country music.
MMM: So what were the stump speeches like?
MM: The horror. The horror. Those damned Forbes-heads blasting
their noise-makers in my ears, trampled by a hoard of George W.'s fratboys,
and the feeling that if these people actually knew what they were talking
about then Ronald Reagan was about to be bodily assumed into Heaven. The
horror. The horror. I kept expecting someone to stand up from the glazed
gathering, point at me, and release a spit-curdling howl like one of those
creatures in the Body Snatchers movie at which point I would disappear and
be replaced by New Folger's Crystals.
MMM: Did you see any Quayle supporters?
MM: Of course not, they're like the trolls and bogeymen of legends
brought out by cruel parents trying to scare their young uns, a massive
mythology started by that movie The Dan Quayle Project.
MMM: So what did you learn?
MM: That I'm moving to Greenland. Soon.
The Non-Brazilian Recent Travels of Matt Mason
- Knowing that a checking account is best used to buy gas, Mason's done
a touch of traveling in 1999. He and 4 friends went camping in Northern
Nebraska, seeing the awesome spectacle that IS Nebraska's highest
waterfall as well as canoeing down the Niobrara River. Again stressed
was the fact that Nebraska as seen from I-80 = Sucks; Nebraska seen on
smaller highways = real real neato. He also visited Steffi Bauer and
Angie Martin in Detroit, having a great time hanging out and catching up
with the two while also seeing all there is to see in Detroit (that is to
say, not a lot) and a fireworks show. He also went to Fargo where a man
on a street corner kept shouting over and over how he hoped Mason would
DIE, filmed 500 Harley riders as they rode from Mexico to Canada (just the
Nebraska to Canada leg), and also saw the Winnipeg Folk Festival which was
mighty mighty.
Good Books
- Star-Spangled Banner by Denise Duhamel. A good book o' poetry from
one of my favorite writers. She can be hilarious, tender, shocking, and
horrifying, and all in the same poem sometimes! She has a great range, well
grounded. And check out an interview of her done by Matt Mason appearing
this fall in the Chiron Review.
Now We're Getting Somewhere by David Clewell. This guy is
hilarious. And good. This is a good, odd, playful book of poetry with an
odd bit of rambling about spontaneous human combustion. Worth checking out.
So Often the Pitcher Goes to Water until It Breaks by Rigoberto
González. A former classmate of mine at Davis, this book got selected by
the National Poetry Series and deservedly so. The boy does similes like no
one I've ever run across and these oddly touching bits, many somewhat
surreal and timeless, seriously rock. Buy this book. Now.
O Pioneers by Willa Cather. OK, being from Nebraska, I'm supposed
to have read Cather before. And seeing as she wrote like 100 years ago,
it's supposed to be dull. But MAN did I like this book, some really
wonderful writing about life as it was in Nebraska as well as simply life
in general. Good stuff, Maynard.
Good Music
- alfaGAMAbetiZADO by Carlinhos Brown. Some really cool, bouncy, jumpy,
melodic Brazilian music. He's the guy singing near the beginning of Speed
2, making him possibly the only reason to see the movie Speed 2.
I Wanna See You Bellydance by the Red Elvises. These guys also do most
of the music for the movie 6-String Samurai and ass is kicked with their
brand of Russian rockabilly oozing forth in most bizarre shapes and forms.
Mule Variations by Tom Waits. A cool, cool, gravelly album.
A Glint of Silver by Silly Wizard. Some excellent Scottish folk music
that bends in ways both traditional and modern.
Space Ghost's Surf & Turf. And why the hell not? With nuggets of joy
from Zorak, funky magic by Brak, and Space Ghost's calming presence, it's
worth cherishing.
Movies You Should Not See
- The Haunting. It still haunts me how much this movie sucked.
Wild Wild West. As The Haunting sucked, this one blew.
Blame It On Rio. I think more people deserve blame here.
Movies That Don't Suck
- Muppets From Space. Hey, it's no "The Muppet Movie," but it still
delivers good stupidity.
The Blair Witch Project. A decent flick, actually kinda fun.
Election. They film good movies in Omaha so see it!
DC Cab. Mr. T don't make bad movies.
Freaked. Again, Mr. T don't make bad movies.
Lock, Stock, & Two Smoking Barrels. Darned good, weird ride of a movie.
Mason Must Go To Chicago
- Three hundred life-size fiberglass cows stand on the streets of
downtown Chicago, all decorated by local artists. They're painted;
sculpted; covered with sequins, mirrors, gumdrops, crystals; equipped with
wings, neckties, sneakers, Carmen Miranda hats; and more other ways than I
can sufficiently list. The exhibit will be up until Halloween, and sometime
between now and then, Mason must see it. Any others interested, let Mason
know ASAP, as he tentatively plans on going sometime in October.
Matt Mason Needs Your Help
- Yes, Mason certainly considers himself lucky for having the wonderful
opportunity to see Brazil. But some opportunities come with a price, and
Mason is paying greatly. You see, while in Brazil, he drank tremendous
quantities of diet drinks flavored with the Amazon's own guaraná berry, a
berry whose caffeine is supposedly enhanced to an effect 2.5 times that of
the caffeine in coffee, tea, and that sewage you Americans pass off as diet
soft drinks. And it's not just the caffeine withdrawal leaving Mason
drooling and shaking in a corner and occasionally under restraints and
sedatives, the stuff also tastes better than diet pop is allowed to taste.
So, you see, Mason has a problem. He'd be asking you for donations of
money, but wants you to save that for the Matt Mason College Fund (holding
steady at 1 Egyptian Pound and 12 British pence, he'll be a PhD SOON!), what
he really wants is more of the devil that has laid him low, he wants to know
if you've ever seen a Diet Guaraná drink in your area, preferably one made
by Antarctica or Brahma (the Coca-Cola Company had one in Brazil and it
tasted like a wet dog, fie upon them and their swill!). Perhaps only you
can save what remains of this noble, once great (well, maybe once mediocre
or once not-too-crappy) soul.
And Where Is Mason?
- Mason is. Cast your thoughts upon the wind and they shall fall upon
him like the rains of spring. Provided you get the postage right, that is.
He's currently still living at 1403 Bellevue Blvd North, Bellevue, NE 68005
and 402/734-6102; but by the end of October he should be living at 9632 N
34th Street, Omaha, NE 68112 and 402/453-5711 provided his sister's office
(2nd great year of construction!) gets finished so he can move in. Either
way, you can track him via email
or visit his witty website at http://www.novia.net/~mtmason/ or just slap
his photo on a milk carton and see what turns up.
(Graphics Coming Soon!)
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