Halloween Blows Pops

It was hard to find vegan goodies for trick-or-treaters. I thought it would be easier. It's amazing what kind of shit is in some of those treats.

I settled on Blow Pops. Blow Pops are not totally vegan if you are really strict, but they're close enough. I don't really care about "shared equipment."

Tonight, I will watch scary movies and give out Blow Pops until they are all gone. I was thinking about going to a party in San Diego, but my friend told me I should brush up on my beer-pong skills for it. I have never played beer-pong. I don't like parties where beer-pong is played.

I just looked at the ceiling for a full minute trying to remember which drinking games I liked when I needed an excuse to get drunk. I stopped playing them in high school. In Europe, there are games involving oddly-shaped glasses that require skill to drink from. The object is never to get drunk or to stay sober, but to drink without making a mess of yourself. The person who spills the drink on their face or front gets laughed at by everyone else. I like those games.

I will have more fun giving out Blow Pops and watching Trailer Park of Terror than playing beer-pong.

Here is a Nugget Halloween E-Card for all of you.

Going Live and Getting Jacked on Your iPhone

TrainwreckUnion.com is your one-stop spot for all things Jack Morgan.
Stormy Petrel Press is Jack Morgan's press. That's where you can buy Sara Mumolo's chapbook!
A lot of you didn't know that. They haven't been totally live for very long, and there are still a few things about them that we're tweaking, but I am proud of the sites and I am grateful to know one of the most elegant programmers I have ever met.

Ryan Stark is able to write code that looks super simple, which is way more difficult than it sounds. It's harder to make things that look clean and disciplined than it is to be fancy and opulent. What looks like a basic website for Stormy Petrel is actually a creative way to handle content management, one that I have never seen before, one that I am entirely impressed with because it gives me way more control than I have ever had on a website. I want to build a statue of Stark and put it in front of city hall or the mayor's house or something.

Speaking of opulence, if you use your iPhone to visit TrainwreckUnion.com, I've made a fav icon for the device. If you go to the site and add it as a bookmark "to Home Screen," it will put the Trainwreck logo where the apps are so that you can just hit a button and your iPhone will take you the site. How cool is that? And the button looks really awesome.

And as long as this is a web-heavy post, someone told me there was a press ripping me off. I checked them out, and I don't think they are. I think I'd like to submit to them because how hilarious would it be to get published by them? I google fought them. I won, so I feel OK.
Trainwreck Union forever!

Coming O-U-T!

I am going to come out about two things.

This evening I spent around four hours at Oakland International Airport. I still like Oakland International Airport.
My flight was canceled, which meant that I was kind of screwed., but then it was miraculously reinstated. And when the plane came in, my salvation, it was out of order. It canceled again. I was not going to make it to D.C. when I thought I would.
Things like that happen when you travel. I travel a lot. The best thing to do is keep smiling. The people whose job it is to figure your shit out will appreciate it and do things for you that you will appreciate. And that is the first thing I am coming out about: I am not as much an ass hole as I pretend to be on the internet.
The internet is where I am hyper critical and where I vent my frustration with the world and where I condemn poets and poetry that I think is ruining my life.
The people at the airport yelled to one another how good a sport I was. They called me sweetheart and awesome and asked me how I kept smiling when everything sucked. I had many air travel problems this evening, and I ended up meeting everyone in the ground crew I could possibly meet, and we were somehow instant friends.

This is going to be a long post, so I won't talk about how that all happened, but I was convinced tonight more than ever that I am better than my bitterest enemies, and I feel good about it.

Then I went for a drink in Oakland.
There was a crying woman there. She said all men are ass holes and that she didn't believe in love. I told her it was easy to give up and say such things. It's easy to generalize, but smart people resist that temptation. I told her how I sometimes want to give up and how I often have negative feelings about people in general.

I often think that women hate men. No one ever tries to talk them out of it. Their mothers and fathers tell them how horrible men are, and men (like women) get frustrated and angry and make it look like we are all crazy/stupid/ass holes. But the opposite is true: people are good. If they weren't, there would be no money or government or telephones or radios or glass or electric lights; we would be living alone in caves without hope. And there's no reason to live without hope. Contrary to the evidence at hand, we usually think the worst of each other. If you think you're good, why would you thing that other people are bad?

And the second thing I am coming out about is hope. I believe in hope more than anything else, and I know it's cheese and lame to the jaded American businessman and woman scorned, and OK. That's fine. But they are wrong. There's always room for sincerity and truth and loyalty and honesty and courage. I know how much it hurts to be betrayed by the people you trust most. People betray me often because I give them too much of myself, but even after all the pain, I think I am still living the good life. It's not the easiest life, but it's a good one, and I like it. It's a building that isn't pretty from every angle, but it's strong and beautiful as a whole because it's built from scar tissue on a foundation of honesty.

I joined eHarmony to see if someone felt the same way I do about life and love. I have a hard time connecting with American women, but I'm not going to give up. I decided one night to play a more active role when it comes to finding love. My jury is still out on eHarmony, but I will tell you all how it goes. I am sure some of you are scoffing right now. But the small-town courtship rules and rituals of America are completely empty to me, and I think that they are bullshit. And I am adventurous and like to try new things, so why not?

I miss the way it feels to love someone, and I forget the way it feels to be beloved. I wonder all the time if anyone has ever loved me. I wrestle with the idea of being beloved and how and why it happens and feels. I want that. I hope for that. And even though I am quite bitter and have been hurt and betrayed by women, I still like them. Human beings are much more varied than puzzle pieces; I can't hate women just because I haven't found a romantic counterpart that doesn't crush out my breath and my ribs.

One more thing.
If we give up and generalize genders, we are only lowering ourselves so that we have a shorter distance to fall when we do, and we will. But if you raise your hopes, you fly above the clouds and look down. It's scarier up there because you're high, and you know it. But it's exhilarating because of that, too. I feel like Americans are afraid to take risks now. Not all days are cloudy, not all animals bite, and not all women are malicious and evil.

Come on Americans! Life is supposed to be a bit scary! Stand on the bridge with me and look over. Even if we fall, that feeling will be worth it. How soft is a pit bull's coat? How warm is a day after the marine layer burns away? When we blanket people with one sentiment, we're giving up, and wahat good does that do? It hurts, life, but we don't have to be babies about it. There's a lot to be endured in life, and there's a little to be enjoyed, but the trade is worth it.

It really is worth it.

At least I hope it is.
And if it isn't, well even a train wreck can be beautiful and compelling.

HANG!

Men with nooses round their necks
don’t like to work unless

There are other men with nooses
round their necks.

No matter what,
you end up working

For someone’s dad.

You have to get a cleaning lady
because when you die no one will find you.

DESTROY!

Last night, I went to a party at the house of the world's preeminent Joyce scholar.
Not that you'd care.
It was very fun.

I will never find a woman who gives a fuck about the world's preeminent Joyce scholar.
They don't care.
It is very sad.

Life is like that sometimes when it comes to girls and creatures of the night and scholars.
No one cries.
If you die alone.

Fancy!

Two of our founding members got into Brown. Getting into Brown's poetry program is kind of a big deal, but that's not all of it. Three of our founding members will be attending fancy schools come next term, and we should be very proud of them and congratulate them every time we see them. They've got very big decisions to make because they were accepted to several schools each, all fancy ones, too! Isn't it exciting? Some day we will be able to say, "I knew them when we were in the Trainwreck Union together," and people will be impressed and want to be your friend because you once knew these shooting stars of poetry.

Pablo Lopez says it's between Brown and Iowa for him. Wow!
Sara Mumolo says she's considering St. Mary's, Pitt, and New School. Zowie!
I don't know where Sarah Stone wants to go, but she's a genius and got in everywhere she wanted! Woo-hoo!

Right now, in fact, Sara is in Pittsburgh, being courted by their fancy staff and faculty. She sent me this today. It's an interesting piece on Gertrude Stein by Lynn Emanuel. Miraculously, I liked it very much and have nothing negative to say about it at all.

Last night several trainwrecks occurred on College Avenue. Someone had the bright idea to leave Ralleigh's, raid Nabolom, and hit every bar on College. Chad even came out!!! Pablo and I (Jack) got into a huge argument about poetry, and Connie Coady was like, "you guys always talk like this about poetry?" In stereo, we turned to her and said "OF COURSE!" Connie got into it a bit when Gertrude Stein came up, as she invariably does. No one will escape Gertrude Stein. No one!

One more thing. Pablo, instead of cherishing his acceptance letters to places like Columbia, which I think many people do for a little while before tossing them, he wrote poetry on the back of all of them. For some reason I think this is rather cool. Good for you, Pablo.