The last session in my poetry class happened on Tuesday night. Few actually showed up, but it was a good class, and we all got to workshop our poems. Now, the question remains whether or not I can find the courage to send the series out. Who knows?
Oh, then the teacher invited me to come for a beer, and in my infinite wisdom, I decided I'd rather be home watching Corrie Street. Bah! I'm a goofball.
Goodness me, do I love a good virtual showdown. Neil Pollack wrote about the death of his persona in the NY Times. Then, Dave Eggers replied on McSweeneys (links via bookslut).
Remember the heyday when Dave Eggers and Neal Pollack would show up at the Horseshoe half an hour late, weird diagrams and fake superhero costumes in tow? Remember how we all swooned when Dave told the stories about his brother Topher and the tragic deaths of his parents interspersed with crazy stories of meeting whales in kayaks? Sigh. Somehow, the pretension of all of that just couldn't last. It was like Shift magazine, too hip for its own good.
But again, I guess the debate rages as to whether or not Eggers' form of self-publishing empire is still relevant and whether or not his website still matters, because Neal Pollack's piece was in the, ahem, NY Times.
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