Tag Archives: Greenland

Advance Reviews for “The Vanishing Pill”

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Contrasting the dim of the city against the icy wilds of Greenland, The Vanishing Pill exposes the violent inner conflicts of our nature. As McPhedran’s liner notes state: “Dreams aren’t simple things; they’re the only fucking thing.”

The advanced reviews are unanimous…

Atlantic Tri-Monthly: “I ate it up like a rabid monkey. McPhedran stews his prose with a burning hot sauce that leaves you screaming for more.” 

USA Tomorrow: “You have not lived until you have read this intoxicating yarn of lust and joy.”

NY1 Off-line: “New Yorker McPhedran’s latest explosion of prose lights up the city with a tower of anguish and delight.”

Foxy News on-line: “It’s a good book, even with all the big words.”

Negative Capability

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At once it struck me what quality went to form a man of achievement, especially in literature, and what Shakespeare possessed enormously – I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact or reason. (John Keats, 1817)

Only recently did I learn of the term “negative capability” in Mathew Zapruder’s Why Poetry, where he writes “What is important is not the cause of the feeling (of engaging with the arts) but the feeling itself, those moments of deep inexplicable feeling, of sadness or melancholy or joy that we cannot place, a feeling that is maybe only possible when one is truly alone.”

This term is a revelation for me, akin to emotional intelligence, an idea to which I have a great affinity, but didn’t know was a thing and will now use as a moment for Davis n my script, Wave That Flag, where he leaves school and to explore his negative capability through a journey on tour with The Grateful Dead.

Time for the Witches

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Eight years ago, when Trump first was elected, there was the remarkable Women’s March in New York City, a joyous event attended by 400,000 people.

On Saturday, January 18, a mere 3,000 meandered through Lower Manhattan, now the People’s March, sad calls made to never surrender when they already had.

There is a lack of purpose in confronting Trump 2.0 , the vast majority preferring to doom scroll over engagement. “Is it even safe to protest? What about the counter-demonstrators?” Trump’s Culture of Fear is here, jokes about Canada and Greenland not jokes at all, freedom and individuality at stake, wildfires, hurricanes and flooding to come.

With the oligarchy setting up shop in DC, it isn’t time for identity politics nor inclusion, but for the furies and fates to rise, the sirens and witches to assemble and tear this thing apart.

Not a Fan

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I’m not a fan of slippery slopes – figurative or literal – or being on the decline.

Trail from Ilulissat to Oqaatsut

I’m not a fan of inconsistency or always doing the same thing.

Train Station, Fulton Street

And I’m not a fan of escaping the escape.

Woodshed, Gibson Island

I need to know where I am if I’m supposed to get anywhere.

Silence is Golden

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There is nothing like shutting up about the writing process – whatever that is – and writing instead, clattering away on who’s knows what but what seems to work right now.

There are pauses between the bursts, leaving me staring dumbly, hands dangling apelike, not thinking about writing but trying to remember the next bit and chase after that before it goes. Yeah, back to that.

Greenland by Sea

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The ice sheets roiled up, the glaciers and jagged mountains blinding in the distant midday sun, all of it intermittently obscured by the wild tossed seas as we descended the immense trough and then rode back up, the terrifying magnificence there again.

Icebergs in Disko Bay

I had come out to this vastness because I had failed at life. I was unable to moderate. Or so she said. It was immoderate of me to reply to a “friendly reminder” from work with a “go fuck yourself”, immoderate to have another when I had so far to drive, and most definitely immoderate to call her a bitch – worse actually – when she told me about her friend who had never thanked her for the thank-you card. “Never replied,” were the exact words, but there’s no point in going over that again.

Ice in a drink

I was adrift now, alone with my failures and losses, just as I had predicted too many times in my head. The rocks and ice were my only buddies now. I couldn’t even get a signal to watch the game..

Blog Post #1,000

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My first blog post, 1,790 days ago, was on Christian Marclay’s The Clock.I have posted 999 times since, each somehow related to “my writing process”. Notes on The Bachelor and Hurricane Sandy drew the most traffic. Details of my actual process attracted the least. What’s next?Another 1,000, I guess.

The Sister Cities of Ilulissat and New York

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On first glance, Ilulissat, Greenland and New York City seem worlds apart. IMG_5007Manhattan skyline (6)I have come to learn, upon further examination, that the assumption is inaccurate.

One commonality is that both places offer non-stop action. New York has 24 hours of lights and hype.Columbus 011Ilulissat has 24-hours light and calving ice. IMG_4980Taxis dominate each locale.20150722_072427Cab TwoAs do throngs of tourists. IMAG352720150712_163552One thing I will have to admit is that the graffiti in Ilulissat can be more direct. 20150715_211435