Charles Bukowski Hates Mickey Mouse


It was a shock for me to hear that some assume Sesame Street’s Ernie and Bert are gay. When I first heard that, I thought the statement, true or not, was provocative, insurgent, and hilarious. I don’t remember who first made the claim, but I do recall thinking the individual was on the cusp of something new, something insidious, and transcendent. This person must be part of an insurgent generation that revolts against civil authority, through pop culture, in a manner that is not belligerent, I thought. I wanted to be at the forefront of that insurgence that didn’t just break down societal barriers but left a wasteland in its wake, and I was not concerned with collateral damage. Children be damned, I thought. I wanted to be one of those that shook the cultural two-liter bottle up, and I considered that characterization of Ernie and Bert a good start.

I wanted to convince the world, through repetition, that the reason Aloysius Snuffleupagus (affectionately known as Mister Snuffleupagus) talked and moved so slow on the set of Sesame Street was that he was stoned. I wanted to inform anyone who would listen that the Bradys were all stoned, gay, and involved in incest, along with anything else we could dream up to poke holes in the traditional wholesomeness that led my fellow brethren from broken homes to feel estranged. On the reality side of the tube, we were suffering, and many of us found it disgusting that sixties and seventies television would have the audacity to portray an idyllic image of a family that left the rest of feeling ostracized. I was ready, willing and able to join the fights, until Hollywood vindicated us by producing The Brady Bunch Movie that had its characters deal with pot smoking, lesbians, and the realities we purported to be more in line with our experiences.

“I’m serious. I can’t stand Big Bird. He’s an *******!” someone said.

I’m still not sure how much sincerity drove such comments, but that was precisely what made the insidious provocation so delicious. If it wasn’t serious, it was funny in a serious, seditious manner. If it was serious, on the other hand, it was funny in an unserious manner. Whatever the case, the artful joke teller left it as a standalone. A comment like that one stated that there was no need to preface such comments with the qualifiers most insurgents felt compelled to offer in the gestation period of the movement, when characterizing a child’s beloved creature in such a manner. Refraining from such typical hospitalities and considerations signaled to the rest of us that the age of qualifiers was over, and a full-on insurgency was under way.

Charles Bukowski was not the first to speak out against the authority figures of the sociopolitical world, nor will he be the last. The mindset might date back to the Romans, the ancient Greeks, and beyond, but to my knowledge, no one attacked the soft underbelly of civil authority through the pop culture staples of children’s entertainment as successfully as Bukowski. If he didn’t start the movement, he at least exerted tremendous influence on me and my insurgent brethren. We raised our fists high with a scream, when we learned that the writer had the temerity to come out against a cultural icon many believed to be the standard-bearer of cutesy America, and spawn of Walt Disney.

“Mickey Mouse is a three-fingered son-of-a-bitch with no soul,” Charles Bukowski said.   

“For us to get back to real America,” a friend of mine said, paraphrasing Bukowski, “we have to destroy Mickey Mouse, because Mickey Mouse destroyed the soul of America.”

It was such a provocative statement, a plane of thought crashing into what I considered the foundation of America. Those I associated with at the time claimed that by making such a declaration, my friend gained panache, and the women around us dug panache. Someone else accused him of being an angry young man, and experience taught us that women loved angry young men. His statement was so provocative, and so Rage Against the Machine that we dug his anger too. Knowing nothing of Bukowski or any other insurgent thoughts at the time, we thought this guy had anger without causation, and we considered that the essence of cool.

“What are you rebelling against?” a female actor asked actor Marlon Brando in the 1953 movie The Wild One

“Whaddya got?” Brando replied. 

That’s the stuff! Suck it Mickey!

Those who have read Charles Bukowski already know that cute America began with an institution called Disney, which started with the institution created by the cartoon character called Mickey Mouse. “It all started with institutions for those who need to be institutionalized,” was a refrain of retro-hip haters. “Those who seek Mickey Mouse, as their form of entertainment live in a soulless, philosophy-free form of hell,” they said. “A life of Mickey will lead to an uncomplicated life of laughter, frivolity, fun, and soullessness. It will lead a generation of Mickey fans, children and otherwise, who will live without knowledge of the stark realities of poverty, drugs, disease, prostitution, and porn.” They apparently thought it would lead to a generation of children who wouldn’t understand the harsh realities of life.

“Mickey Mouse?” the aghast asked. “What could you possibly have against Mickey Mouse?”

“Nothing,” the cool, hip cats answered, “except that he is a three-fingered son-of-a-bitch with no soul.”

We fellas watched such cool, retro-hip cats walk away from such conversations, with laughter, open-mouthed awe, and elongated stares trailing behind them. We didn’t know if the women believed them, but we saw that some women loved such comments, and we knew we had to get some of that.

These provocative soothsayers appeared to have a formula for intriguing otherwise unattainable women, when they delivered such lines in a subtle and suave manner. The formula also appeared to be something we uncool fellas thought we could put to good use. I don’t know if others ever managed to use this technique successfully, but any flirtations I had with using the tool met a quick end when the retro-funny-nerd types stepped in with their “Elmo rocks!” and “Grover is a dude!” T-shirts. Those apparel choices were not intentionally insurgent, and their motivation confused me. Their shirts made kind, funny statements like, “Big Bird is my homeboy!” and, “I was raised on The Street” (with an accompanying picture of Sesame Street on the shirt), and they garnered laughter from women. Women asked them about their T-shirt, and the T-shirt wearers got a ticket to ride. This left the rest of us confused. “We had a formula,” we wanted to say to the retro-funny-nerd types. “You’re messing up the dynamic of what we just started to understand.”

Even if we had been able to use those insurgent statements, we would’ve said them with some humorous underpinnings. We wanted to be funny in a way that some strong, intellectual themes of that era were. I don’t know how many contra rebels sought the higher plane of funny in the manner I did, but I did run across a few who took the insurgent movement a bit too seriously and presented their arguments without any humorous underpinnings.

I don’t know if Bukowski was one of them, or if he used the insurgent formula to rise to the throne of the insurgent rebels in a capitalistic venture, but standup comedians took Bukowski’s fundamentals into the stratosphere. Bukowski might have found this a little unsettling. Then again, he might have intended these statements to serve as a launching point. Whatever the case, I’m sure that if Bukowski lived long enough to witness the insurgency permeate the culture to the degree where even little old ladies began declaring, “Barney sucks!” at Applebee’s, he would’ve been proud. Whatever the case, Bukowski’s acolytes took this message more seriously than the rest of us.

Few can pinpoint where such movements begin. Likewise, few can pinpoint their demise. In our limited perspective, we are only aware of what happens in our inner circles. In my inner circle, the insurgent institution began to wane, but the Bukowski acolytes held true. “Barney still sucks!” they said. They blasted the otherwise innocuous, purple dinosaur so often that some in their audience began to believe it was something more than comedic shtick. We began to understand that they were sincere believers. The retro-funny-nerd types and little old ladies at Applebee’s inadvertently exposed the true believers as ludicrous, and a little too serious and self-righteous, to a point where we laymen began to back away from our attempts to achieve orthodoxy.

“You do realize that Barney the Dinosaur wasn’t written for middle-aged men, right?” we asked the ultra-serious strain, waiting for their dry tones and deadpan expressions to break into a smile.

“I don’t care,” they answered. “He’s created a soulless America that seeks the cute mindset with those horrible ‘I love you’ and ‘you love me’ songs he sings. He has no soul.” Then, to further this insurgent agenda, they might turn to their children, and inquire, “Ms. Mary, What do we think of Barney the Dinosaur, Miss Mary?” 

“He sucks!” Ms. Mary says. “He should have a hypodermic needle hanging from his arm, and a mohawk on his head, and the world would be a much better place if his father learned the proper use of a condom.” Ms. Mary’s learned version of cute sophistication often elicits laughter and a chorus of “Aw,” from everyone at the table.

At this point or some points in between, the observer begins to realize that the true believer has a bona-fide opinion on the matter, one they consider so consequential that they teach their children to mimic it. They are angry that any individual of any age would seek the soft entertainment that Mickey or Barney provides.

They cannot abide their children’s occasional giggles at the humorous actions of a grown man in a Barney outfit. When the show does garner a giggle, we can imagine them peering around their electronic device at Ms. Mary and admonishing, “What do we say about Barney again?”

“He sucks,” Ms. Mary repeats.

“That’s right,” the parents says before going back to their device.

At this point or some points in between, the casual observer can’t help but further question the parent’s motives. “I think this is all funny, don’t get me wrong, but you can’t possibly believe in this, this much, do you?”

For some parents, the dinosaur, the mouse, and some of the other, more popular characters of youth programming are annoying. Most parents of this era talked about the mind-numbing repetitiveness of some songs, and how the cutesy, nice interactions between the characters drove them crazy, but there are others who take these annoyances a step further. I’ve met them. I met parents who wanted more for their children, and their various definitions of more were largely left to the imagination. If a parent doesn’t want mind-numbing educational songs for their children, or cutesy interactions that might teach children how to interact with their peers, how does a parent counter such programming to prepare their children for the stark reality of the world? Do they introduce them to violent, obscene movies to give their children a more vivid picture of themes that contain violence and sexual identity? Do they do this under the guise that they believe this will lead to their children being less inclined to ostracize and hate the differences in people? What if, after watching such material, their child tickles Elmo in a department store, and they giggle along with the furry toy? We can only guess that this might manifest into some form of hopeless frustration. How does a parent counteract that? Would they sit their child down and remind them of the misery in the world? How far would they go to achieve some form of hopeless tears in their child? If they did achieve it, would they feel an odd sense of satisfaction by preparing the little one for the misery that awaits them on the other side of childhood? One has to wonder if these children are more miserable based on the efforts of their parents, and if there is anything, anyone could do to prepare them for a life of that.

Bukowski’s goal was to create an anti-Disney America that was awash in stark reality. By implication, we can suggest that if Bukowski were in charge, the children of America would be awash in alcohol, sex, and violence. He would want America’s children to know the country he knew and wrote about in his poems and books. He would want them to know the stark reality of abusive fathers and to be aware that alcohol is the only form of escapist entertainment that has any soul. “And the track,” Bukowski acolytes might remind us, “Don’t forget about Bukowski’s routine trips to the track.” We can be sure that the gospel according to Bukowski would include the belief that horses, not Mickey Mouse, can make all our dreams come true, and any child who doubts that can tune in to the cast of characters at their local track.

“Screw childhood,” Bukowski appeared to say. “Screw wholesome Americans, born and bred on Disney, who believe that naïve childhood should last as long as possible. It’s not realistic. Childhood is the very essence of cutesy America. It’s farcical, and it has no soul.”

To support the counter-argument, we must cede to the idea that Disney has damaged some susceptible children-turned-adults. We must recognize that some adults have an unusual and unhealthy propensity for fantasy, but what Bukowski and his acolytes don’t account for in the provocative, insurgent statements against Disney is that if Walt Disney’s creation never existed, there would be a need to create it. If Barney or Sesame Street never existed, something would fill that vacuous hole. Some of us may not enjoy the manner in which that hole was filled, but as my fifth grade teacher once said in various ways on far too many days, “The country in which you live has a Bill of Rights that allows you to complain about whatever you want, but if you’re going to complain in my class, you do have to offer an alternative solution. If all you do is complain, you’re useless to me.”  

If those who complain about these institutions are able to see past their subjective frustrations and view the market in an objective manner, they will recognize that there was a need that Walt Disney and all of these other institutions filled. Rather than complain, in what my fifth grade teacher would’ve characterized as useless, Bukowski and his acolytes should’ve complained in a constructive manner by offering a viable alternative. If that need is institutional in America –be it is financial, capitalistic, emotional, or fundamental– these family-oriented entertainment vehicles tapped into something that made a generation of children a little happier. AY! There’s the rub, the nut-core of it all, happy. Bukowski types hate happy. If they were in control, America would be a happy-free zone.

Bukowski had a dream, a dream in which all children could one day live in a world where they were judged not by the shallow, clueless smiles on their faces, but by the spiritual –or spirited– lights of their soul. He had a dream in which all Americans, black and white and everything in between, could one day join hands in a happy-free, cute-free, Disney-free America.

Most would say America is a better, happier place for children, with Disney, Sesame Street, and most of the child-like, simple-minded, cute programming in it. Even the most jaded adult would admit that the tedious songs and simple-minded exercises make an imprint on young minds. Children learn through repetition, and the simple-minded, tedious repetitions also provide children a refuge from the various stresses that childhood might provide. The counterarguments seem incomprehensible to some of us, but perhaps that’s what makes them funny, quasi funny, and provocative. There are others, we’ve all met them, who believe these fantastical presentations do more harm than good, and they’re not trying to be provocative. The inevitable question arises, if these programming choices for children border on evil in their simplistic pursuits, how would we go about replacing them? The idea that they want children drinking alcohol, or attending the track is a strawman argument, they say, but when we advance the argument beyond the fallacious and beyond their provocative statements, we find that they’re stance is steeped in bitter contrarianism.

If Disney represents happy, cute America, as Bukowski suggested, should we nominate Bukowski an unofficial honorarium as miserable America’s ambassador? If Disney brought uncomplicated happiness to America’s shores, coupled with laughter, and joy, what did Bukowski bring? Anyone who knows anything about Bukowski knows that he had an abusive, alcoholic father. He also suffered from a clinical case of acne in his youth. These, among other issues, led him to a degree of misery that he mined to carve out a niche in the market that brought him fame and fortune. We know that while Bukowski may not have been the first to tap into the misery market, he might have done it better than those that preceded him, for few in history have relayed the unhappy mindset in such a comprehensive manner, and even fewer could express their hatred for happy people with such vigor.

Some believe Bukowski created the current manifestation of anti-happy that led to a hierarchical web of minions that display near-visceral hatred for The Brady Bunch, Leave It to Beaver, Disney, and all that is wholesome. These wholesome ideals, portrayed on screens, represented something that irritated these types. Perhaps it had something to do with the idea that these images served as a mirror to reveal something about them that they didn’t want others to see. Their anger hung out from beneath their skirt for all the world to see, but it did nothing for them to learn that in many quarters of America, it is now popular and chic to hate happy and wholesome America, simply because it’s too cutesy. It does nothing for them to know they’ve won in certain sectors, because their goal has never been about winning or achieving some form of satisfaction that could lead to happiness for another. No, the insurgent movement that I once considered so attractive was about spreading the misery, so they wouldn’t feel so much of it percolating under their skin while they sat on the other side of the tube, seething in the juices of their reality.

How to Succeed in Writing IX: The Influential Writers, and Other Influences


Like any other person who has attempted to create something artistic, an artist’s appreciation of another’s work is limited and unique. An artist’s appreciation of another’s work is similar to an athlete studying game film on a future opponent. After repeated viewings, you understand their modus operandi. You are able to pinpoint what they do well, and their failings, and you’re able to learn from all of them. One author’s ability to characterize may impress another artist in one reading, and another may impress them with their particular brand of engaging dialogue. After another artist gets it, they’re usually bored with it, and they move onto another author. To use the sports analogy once again, the artist can usually spot the stitches on another’s fastball long before the casual observer can. This isn’t what artists are trying to do, it’s who they are. They would love to simply read another’s work and appreciate it in the same manner a casual reader would, but they can’t turn that portion of their brain off. An artist reading another’s work can get so hypercritical and appreciative of the little things another author does to move a story along, or characterize, that they can’t enjoy that simple, little story in total until they have thoroughly explored, and drained, whatever value they believe another’s work has for them.

Most writers will claim that their writing is now entirely free of influence once they’ve found their voice. Some might judge this self-promotion, and others would say it’s just impossible to believe. As any writer who has written a great deal knows, it’s almost impossible to escape influence. Whenever a writer turns a phrase, completes a block or dialogue, or characterizes, there was some influence there. If it wasn’t Chaucer, or Hemingway, that influenced the writer in this manner, it may have been their freshman Composition 101 teacher. If it wasn’t Stephen King, or Faulkner, who taught them how characterize, it may have been a movie or a television show that embedded that particular brand of characterizing deep in their brain. Something, somewhere influenced them in some way they may not know now that they’ve reached their twentieth year of writing, where their writing material that is so fresh, and unique, that they can’t even spot the influence anymore. They may have worked so hard, for so long to achieve a unique voice that they feel they’ve achieved it, and they may have to some degree, but there was a starting point that formed a foundation that is now so embedded in the manner in which they write that they can’t see the influence anymore.

Those who belong to the latter group believe they have reached the pinnacle of individualistic style, that contains no influence. They might dismiss this article as nothing but a point of curiosity, but the new writer wants to learn how we arrived at point D in the process, the following is a list of those influences who lubricated the slide:

10) Brevity. If “Brevity is the soul of wit” no one was funnier than Ernest Hemingway. An economist of words, Hemingway avoided complicated syntax, and it has been determined that seventy percent of his sentences were short, simple sentences.{1} Hemingway was the anti-Joyce (James Joyce) in this regard. Whereas Hemingway “KISSed” us (keeping it simple for we stupid people) with his prose, Joyce dangled complicated, multi-syllabic, and invented words before us, and he often teased us with a carrot on the stick of his words’ meaning. Whereas this may have made Joyce’s fiction wonderful, historic, and transcendent, most of us didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Whereas most readers need translation, and transports in time via a well-written guide, and a degree in Joyceisms to understand Finnegan’s Wake, Old Man and the Sea can be enjoyed in an otherwise carefree afternoon. This isn’t to say that Hemingway’s prose is not complicated and carefully structured for meaning, but with Hemingway’s fiction, meaning is derived upon reflection and through personal interpretation. The meaning of Hemingway’s prose is established through dialogue, action, and silences —a fiction in which nothing crucial or at least very little— is stated explicitly. He purposely avoided outright symbolism in what he called “the theory of the iceberg”. This theory stated that facts float above water, but the larger, supporting structure and symbolism that build the foundation do so out of sight.

Hemingway“No good book has ever been written that has in it symbols arrived at beforehand and stuck in,” says Hemingway. “That kind of symbol sticks out like raisins in raisin bread. Raisin bread is all right, but plain bread is better.” He opens two bottles of beer and continues: “I tried to make a real old man, a real boy, a real sea and a real fish and real sharks. But if I made them good and true enough they would mean many things. The hardest thing is to make something really true and sometimes truer than true.”

Hemingway was more of a storyteller than he was a writer. The interested reader, who doesn’t have a whole lot of time on their hands, may want to consider reading either the short book Old Man and the Sea or The Short and Happy life of Francis Macomber. The latter is a short story that captures the essence of Ernest Hemingway, and it teaches every writer the greatest principle every writer should employ in their daily activities: Story is sacred and flowery prose is largely self-indulgence.

Carver9) Images. Raymond Carver was also a minimalist. Most of my favorite writers were. Carver employed evocative and provocative images to tell a story. Short stories were his forte. The short story Feathers captures the essence of Raymond Carver, better than any of his other stories in my humble opinion.

Carver’s stories, and poems, focused on misery and dirty realism. His characters were low class, beer drinking, hardworking, slobs that readers can’t help but picture in stained tank-tops. Carver claimed that he was inclined toward brevity and intensity. His writing focused on sadness, loss, and alcohol in the everyday lives of ordinary people — often lower-middle class or isolated and marginalized people.

8) Characterization. John Irving engages in the flowery prose of his mentor Charles Dickens, but he does so (for the most part) effortlessly. Irving is not a minimalist in other words. Irving’s John_Irvingworks teach us, more than any of the authors listed here, to work your tail off to hide your effort. One read through his magnum opus The World According to Garp teaches us that it shouldn’t be a chore to read through one’s work. No other authors listed here, save for maybe Hemingway, hides his brilliance better than Irving. The reader gets to know Irving’s characters in what I call a “Holy Crap!” manner. Irving doesn’t use physical characteristics to describe characters, and he doesn’t use the inner voice techniques that most of us do, yet the reader learns their characteristics in a story after story and a passage after passage manner, until we know them so completely that we say, “Holy crap, this author’s brilliant.” I realize this methodology is borne of the “show don’t tell” basic of storytelling, but in my humble opinion, no one does it better than Irving.

Irving has chapters of setting, primarily in the Northeast, and his settings can appear a bit laborious at times. Unlike all of the authors on this list, there can be large chunks of Irving’s narrative where nothing happens, as he frames you up for what’s about to happen. Irving does “a story within the story” as well as anyone in the business. As I said, though, Irving achieves his stature in the world of literature through effortless characterization.

It appears, unfortunately, that the drive to tell a story no longer drives Mr. Irving. His more recent books have become more and more political. Some could say that Mr. Irving has always been political, and if you read A Prayer for Owen Meany and Garp again, you’ll see that. If that’s true, he used to be a lot more subtle. Story used to be sacred to him, and politics used to be a secondary concern to him.

It’s almost become a cliché that writers of my generation claim Irving as a primary influence. Like most clichés though, there’s a reason claiming Irving as an influence has become so prevalent among those in my generation. It’s because he has achieved the bestseller list through almost effortless, beautiful writing, and by not conforming to current norms. Irving just does what he does, and we have all accepted this to a degree that he can do whatever he wants, and we’ll all greet him with open arms. Claim King or Koontz as an influence, and artistic writers will dismiss you with a yawn; claim John Grisham, and they’ll dismiss you with a laugh; but Irving has managed to keep a foot in both the literary and best-selling world, and he does it with rich, rewarding, and effortless characterization.

7) Asides.  Some may dismiss Chuck Palahniuk as a splatterpunk writer that engages in shocking prose that grosses out and titillates the reader. It is true that Palahniuk goes for the jugular in much of his writing, and some may say too often, but anyone that has read, or seen, Fight Club (they’re strikingly similar) knows that Palahniuk (almost) always has a story to tell amid the chaos in his works.

PalahniukPalahniuk may have some of the best, most interesting vignettes and asides in the business today. He is heavily influenced by Stephen King, as evidenced by his heavy use of refrain style use of repetition, but one should not mistake this influence as outright mimicry. Palahniuk has carved himself quite a niche in the literary world, with works like Fight Club, Choke, and Rant. Rant proved to be especially valuable to those writers on the lookout for a new way of telling a story. While the style is not unprecedented, Palahniuk used it in such a unique manner that those that have read the story considered it revolutionary.

Chuck describes his style of writing as “transgressive” fiction. Transgressive fiction, as defined by Wikipedia, “is a writing style that focuses on characters who feel confined by the norms and expectations of society and who break free of those confines in unusual and/or illicit ways.”

After the novel Lullaby, Palahniuk began writing satirical, horror stories. His work is big on unusually dark and absurd philosophical asides that are so farcical that the reader can help but think of them as true. These asides are non-fiction factoids within his fictional works that, according to the author, “Are included in order to further immerse the reader in my work”.” {2} This author hates metaphors and similes. This author loves to mess around with the traditional styles of storytelling to presumably keep it interesting for him and us. Some of the times this methodology works, as it did in Rant, and some of the times it doesn’t, as it didn’t in Pygmy and Tell All. His forays into illogical, but fun, splatterpunk writing, works in most of his books, but anytime a writer puts their stock in shock they are going to try outdo themselves every time out, until they produce a book like Snuff in which the novelty of the over-the-top shock wears thin quickly.

6) Pace and Formula. No writer, in modern fiction, displays the virtues of pace better than Dean Koontz. I challenge anyone to read the first half of his book Intensity and say that this man is not in the upper echelon of thriller writers today. Koontz knows all he needs to know about architecture, gardening, and all the other minutiae of his Southern Californian locale to make his setting interesting, but Mr. Koontz can cause a reader to flip pages on pace with any of the great suspense/thriller writers of our day. He may also be the safest writer on this list.

Dean-KoontzWhy is Koontz safe? He strives for the mainstream. His books have mass appeal to most age groups and both genders. He is a publisher’s dream in that he knows how to knock out a best-seller on an annual basis without offending anyone. If you’re a writer who seeks the formula to mass appeal, and the bestseller list, I can think of no better author to read … this side of James Patterson. That having been said, there is a formula to Koontz’s writing. How can there not be in a catalog that lists 112 titles, with twenty-eight bestsellers among them, without an inoffensive formula? A formula is good to some degree. To some degree, a formula will provide a reader a solid foundation of comfort that the author can shatter in the pages that follow. There is a formula, and a relative level of comfort that Koontz readers have come to expect, and while we should try hard not to dismiss Koontz on this basis alone, it’s difficult not to do so. All of his characters are much too safe. His female characters are incredibly and consistently intelligent, and his male characters are “safely” reliant on the female’s intelligence and ingenuity … Even his bad guys are safely bad. Then, Koontz exasperates whatever problems his works have in this regard by trying to be funny. His humor is so safe, conformist, and pedantic that it almost seems to be self-effacing, nerdy humor, until one reads enough Koontz to realize that this is this man’s sense of humor.

If you’re looking for edgy, offensive, different material that most people are uncomfortable reading, Koontz probably isn’t your guy. He does write some edgy material, but he doesn’t do so on a consistent enough basis. If one were to gauge mental health by a writer’s fiction, Koontz would likely score higher than any of the authors listed here, but that has resulted in less dangerous, less angst-ridden material. He’s mainstream, and there’s nothing wrong with that if you’re looking to write mainstream fiction. One of the other exceptions to this rule, aside from Intensity, was the novel Life Expectancy. These two books are the must reads in Koontz’s catalog for any writer seeking the edgy and different.

5) Writing fiction. What can be written about Stephen King that hasn’t already been written? If you are a writer that hasn’t read King yet, you’ll probably want to get on the train. He’ll teach you the good, the bad, and the ugly of writing. While it’s almost impossible to read everything he’s done, most writers have an extensive King library. If they don’t, they should probably have at least ten of his books.

KingKing has it all, and most honest, seasoned writers will begrudgingly admit that he has had an influence on them at one point in their process. If The Stand is too long for you, then the writing community will require you to read Misery, Gerald’s Game, It, or any of his classic, early works like The Shining. Some artistic writers may scrunch their nose at King, because he is so ubiquitous, but his influence on modern fiction cannot be denied in just about every novel written after 1990.

Some say that King invented the common man horror, but many say that almost every piece of fictional horror involves the common man. King did work the working joe into his fiction more than most however. As stated earlier, King builds horror through repetition. He usually has a nickname for his monster that gets repeated often enough that the reader feels a horrified endearment to the monster. He also may have not been the first to work music into his horror, most notably nursery rhymes, but he did it more often and with more mastery than most, and it influenced a generation of horror writers.

4) Hodge Podge. As written in the introduction of this piece, writers read other writers in a unique manner. There are so many varied ways that a writer can reach point D in the process that attempting to catalog all of the influential writers, and their influential moments in fiction, would be book length, and very few readers would be interested in all of the ways in which this writer achieved that point. So in the interest of interest, we will try to whittle these moments down to a few of the most prominent. In the area of the influentially absurd humor, there have been few that captured it as well as Robert McCammon did in Gone South, or Gary Shteyngart in his work Absurdistan a book that was heavily influenced by the monumentally influential book A Confederacy of Dunces John Kennedy O’Toole.

As for horror, there have been few, this side of King, that have been able to capture common man, suspenseful horror as adeptly as Scott Smith did in A Simple Plan and Ruins. Smith’s ability to build to horror in a casually sequential manner is almost unprecedented. The only problem with Smith is that he has only written two books in twenty years, and while there is nothing wrong with the man’s quality, his fans would love a little more quantity. Although Thomas M. Disch’s M.D. was not the greatest horror book ever written, and it ebbed and flowed more than the other books on this list, the work provided moments that have influenced this writer as much as any of the pieces described previously. Some of the imagery Thomas Harris created in the Red Dragon book, and in Phillip Roth’s Portnoy’s Complaint (not a horror but just as laden with images), have led many writers to pound the table in frustration with their attempts to duplicate their provocative imagery. For various reasons, and in various ways, all of these authors had a huge influence on this writer’s attempt to get to point D.

3) Mood. Nothing influences mood better than music. Listening to music gives the writer a certain setting from which “different” fiction can be achieved. If a writer wants to write a period piece, for example, they can select the music from that era, and attempt to achieve that mindset. This is similar to the attempts that the main character in Richard Matheson’s Somewhere in Time to achieve time travel. In this story, the main character wanted to go back to the year 1912 so badly that he attempted to hypnotize himself into the belief that he was. He surrounded himself with 1912 in his hotel room, and he wore 1912 clothes, listened to 1912 songs, and ended up believing he was in 1912. Music affects me in the same manner. I prefer non-traditional, non-linear music to shake my brain out of the patterns it might fall into in long settings, until I can convince myself that I am non-traditional and non-linear. I, of course, do not make the conscious efforts to do this in the manner Matheson’s character did, but through repetitive listening of certain music, I have been able to achieve something “different” on a number of occasions.

I listen to a wide variety of music when I write, always switching to keep it fresh, but some of my favorites are Mike Patton, John Zorn, and Trey Spruance’s Secret Chiefs. These musicians (not rock stars) create an aura I find conducive to writing edgy, “different” material. These artists, like so many of the authors described above, created something that that seemed impossible before they did it. They are truly skilled in making the listener feel different, and that anything can be accomplished in a certain setting. Miles Davis creates an aura that allows you to focus at times, but his music can be a little too aural at times, and David Bowie’s music can be a little too focused, and this causes me to be distracted when I listen to what his music is doing. The band Pavement can create some chaos in your mind and shake you out of your doldrums, but they, too, can be a little too focused at times for that atmosphere writers need to create.

Everyone’s mom told them that distraction-free silence was conducive to concentration. Yet, every mind works differently, and I have found —much too late for success in school— that I need distraction to achieve focus. It may not make sense to those blessed with normal brains, but I need a Goldilocks amount of distraction —not too hard and not to soft, and not too aural and not too structured— for me to concentrate and focus.

2) Movies.  Most of the best storytelling being done today, we have to face it, is being done in the movies. If a Quentin Tarantino were born in the late nineteenth century, he probably would’ve been a novel writer. He, like all great movie makers of this era, has the storyteller’s bug, but he doesn’t have the patience to sit behind a typewriter/keyboard and compose prose that can take months and years to produce. These storytellers of our era are taking advantage of the technology offered them and telling their stories on screen. One thing movie makers can teach aspiring writers, that reading the Russian authors won’t, is to get to the point. Their audience, our audience, and the audience doesn’t have as much patience for brilliant prose as previous generations. We have a short attention span, and with a few exceptions (David Lynch, Wes Anderson, and Tarantino of late) most movie makers whittle their scripts down to the germane.

1) My writing.  Most readers would consider it egotistical to list “my writing” as the greatest influence on my writing, but that is not the intent. It is only added, because I hold my best writing out as beacons in my career that I want to smash the next time I write something new. It is important that every writer examine what they’ve written on a consistent enough basis that they always try to write better, and different, stories every time they sit behind their keyboard.

{1}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernest_Hemingway

{2}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chuck_Palahniuk

A President’s Day Guide Through Obscure Presidents, and Lincoln


To those, like me, who have lived their whole life in America, we take it for granted that America is the envy of the world. Some might view this as propaganda, some sort of hype, or marketing tool that America has generated on a false premise. America does have her faults, of course, for it is and always has been run by, and for flawed humans, but if you’ve ever run into a first generation American who knows how flawed humans running a country can be. They might even paraphrase Winston Churchill by saying, “America might be a horribly run country, but it’s better than anything else we’ve tried.

One thing that I think that should put naysayers, and those of us who might take America’s place in the world for granted is that it didn’t have to go this way. A couple of elections here and there might have changed the course of the country dramatically.  

There have been times, in our nation’s history when we needed a strong man who played with a bold hand at times and a soft touch in others to solve the country’s problems. Some would argue that no one did both better than Abraham Lincoln did during his tenure in office, in his quest to end the Civil War and slavery. There have been times when our nation laid in the balance, and we needed a Lincoln to come along and do what he could to preserve what George Washington, John Adams, and all The Founders envisioned. There have been other times, times far less documented in historical records, when our nation needed a humble leader who displayed restraint in times of national scandal and turmoil.

Whenever we talk about the history of America, we usually focus on Lincoln, The Founding Fathers, the Roosevelts, and the rest of the more prominent presidents who have shaped our country in profound ways, but there are many lesser-known presidents who have affected the nation in various, individual ways. If Lincoln lost his bid for president to Stephen A. Douglas our country might be very different. If Grover Cleveland lost his bid for re-election to Benjamin Harrison a second time in 1892 would our country be different? In what ways would the country be different if Calvin Coolidge lost his bid for re-election to John W. Davis? Some argue that no American legislation, and no executive orders are set in stone, and they can be righted, or sunk, by subsequent administrations. While that is true, there is the matter of precedent, and there is the question of how much damage could be done in the interim. If Lincoln lost to Douglas, and the Civil War and slavery lasted beyond 1865, how much further damage would’ve occurred in this country without the skilled Lincoln at the helm? Some of us might argue that America isnt as great as others suggest, and that it never was, but if Lincoln lost his election, it’s likely that there wouldn’t be a United States as we know it today. 

Were it not for the statesmanship restraint displayed by a Calvin Coolidge, we might be a less free nation. Quiet, obscure presidents, like Coolidge, quietly vetoed legislation and exhibited restraint throughout their tenure. Restraint, vetoing legislation, and acting in a manner to preserve individual freedoms is less sexy than winning wars, ending slavery, or passing sweeping legislation and pressing the thumb of government on the throat of individuals and businesses for the purpose of helping other people, but the imprint it left might be just as profound.

Our nation’s history is composed of the strong, Lincoln types and the quiet, Coolidge types who have shaped our country in unique ways, and on this President’s Day I thought we should all be reminded how we came to be the nation we are today, through the more obscure presidents (and Lincoln) that helped guide us to modernity.

 

Grover Cleveland
Grover Cleveland

1) Stephen Grover Cleveland (March 18, 1837 – June 24, 1908)

The 22nd and 24th President

Cleveland was a Democrat who served the American people from 1885–1889 and 1893–1897 in non-consecutive terms. President Grover Cleveland was the only president to do so.

Stephen Grover Cleveland was one of three presidents (Jackson, FDR) to win popular vote for president on three different occasions, but he lost, in the second election, to Benjamin Harrison in the Electoral College tallies. He was the only Democrat to defeat a Republican for office during the period of Republican domination that dated back to Abraham Lincoln’s first electoral victory. He was the second president to marry while in office, and the only president (as depicted above) to marry at the white house. During his tenure, he and the Republican Congress, admitted North Dakota, South Dakota, Montana, Washington, Idaho, Wyoming, and later Utah to the union. His last words were “I have tried so hard to do right.”{1}

Ronald Reagan may have been the president who “tried to give the government back to the people” but some argue that Grover Cleveland was the first of two presidents of the 19th and 20th centuries –Calvin Coolidge being the other– to accomplish the feat. By the time their tenure ended, the size and scope of government was more limited than when they began their terms.

Others spoke of limiting the size of government, and the others failed. Cleveland’s first goal was to end the spoils of the political system. He did not fire the previous administration’s Republicans who were doing their job well, but he cut down the number of federal employees, and he attempted to slow the growth of what he perceived to be a bloated government. He attempted to always place appointments in positions based on merit, as opposed to the usual spoils system that dictated position holders in previous administrations. He also used his veto power far more than any other president of his day. Although Cleveland was a Democrat, he was one the few who sided with business. Cleveland opposed high tariffs, free silver, inflation, imperialism, and subsidies to business, farmers or veterans. His little battles for political reform and fiscal conservatism made him an icon for American conservatives of the era. Cleveland’s reform ideas and ideals were so strong and influential that a reform wing of the Republican Party, called the “Mugwumps”, bolted from the GOP ticket and swung to his support in 1884.

The great Abraham Lincoln
The great Abraham Lincoln

2) Abraham Lincoln

The 16th President.

Lincoln was a Republican who served the people from March 4, 1861 – April 15, 1865.

Abraham Lincoln, it could be said, is our most famous president. If one were to chart fame by the number of books written about an historical figure, Lincoln has had more books written about him than any other president. By some accounts, he has had more written about him than any historical figure alive or dead save for Jesus of Nazareth.

His fame is derived from serving as president during The Civil War, and the fight to abolish slavery. Lincoln’s fierce abolitionist views were so well known that some suggest that his election victory led the South secede. He used a heavy hand in some cases, such as the unconstitutional suspension of habeas corpus, and he used a deft hand in his attempts to end slavery. Fierce abolitionist Frederick Douglass viewed Lincoln with impatience initially. Douglass favored a firm hand. He wanted to, by whatever means necessary, quickly obliterate, on moral grounds, the Democrats who opposed ending the institution of slavery. As we discuss in another article on this specific topic, Douglass eventually saw the errors of that method. Ronald E Franklin characterizes Douglass as eventually, “Celebrating Lincoln as the perfect, God-appointed man for a task that, had the abolition of slavery been his first priority, he could not have accomplished.” This other article provides the full breadth of Douglass’ characterization of Lincoln’s political maneuvers. 

We now have a number of definitions of Lincoln’s motivations, but James Buchanan’s mismanagement of a decades-old disaster landed on President Abraham Lincoln’s desk soon after he took office. The country rested on a precipice of tearing apart. If Lincoln was too firm, he might have lost the country, and thus any sense of a mandate, if he was too soft, he might have lost The South. History will probably argue his tactics until they lay our great-grandchildren to rest, but through compromise and subtle, brilliant maneuvers, Abraham Lincoln managed to both end slavery and save the union. 

In the Washington V. Lincoln debate over who was the greatest president, the tale of the tape for both is long and mighty. In my personal opinion, Washington is given too much credit for being the first to set such and such a precedent. Washington was, indeed, a great leader of the country, but he was the first president, so I think we give him too much credit for setting precedents.   

Quick Quip: Democrat rival in the 1960 election for the President Stephen A. Douglas once called Abraham Lincoln two-faced. “If I had two faces,” Lincoln replied, “do you honestly think I would wear this one?”{2}

William Henry Harrison
William Henry Harrison

3) William Henry Harrison

9th President

Harrison was a member of the short lived Whig party, and he served the people as president from March 4, 1841 to April 4, 1841

William Henry Harrison is most famous for dying after serving one month in office as president.  He took the oath on a cold and rainy day, and he refused to wear a coat or a hat. He also rode into the inaugural on horseback rather than in the closed carriage that had been offered to him. He then proceeded, after the oath, to deliver the longest inaugural in American history. It took him almost two hours to complete it. He then rode away from the inaugural on horseback. Some believe that this reckless regard for his health brought on the illness that his sixty-eight year old body could not recover from, but historians make note that the illness did not set in until three weeks after the inaugural. Regardless how he contracted the cold, it progressed into pneumonia and pleurisy. His last words presumed to be to his successor John Tyler were: “Sir, I wish you to understand the true principles of the government. I wish them carried out. I ask nothing more.” {3}

Quick Quip: There was some debate over whether W.H. Harrison’s 8,460 word inaugural address (the longest in history) led to his demise. Harrison refused to dress appropriate for the forecast cold rain, or follow any of advice of those concerned with his well-being. As a result of his demise, Harrison’s grandson Benjamin Harrison, made sure his own inaugural was a little over half what his grandfather’s was.

Martin Van Buren
Martin Van Buren

4) Martin Van Buren

8th President

Van Buren was a Democrat that served the people from March 4, 1837 to March 4, 1841.

Van Buren is regarded, in some quarters, as the father of the Democrat Party, even though Andrew Jackson was the first Democrat to be elected president. He was the first individual born as a U.S. citizen to be elected president. He was the first non-British, non-Irish man to serve as president. He was Dutch. He was also the first self-made man to become President: all earlier Presidents had acquired wealth through inheritance or marriage, while van Buren was born into poverty and became wealthy through his law practice. Van Buren’s presidency was marked by a depression, named the panic of 1837, that lasted throughout his presidency. As a result of this, Van Buren issued a statement that is also famous regarding his tenure as president: “As to the presidency, the two happiest days of my life were those of my entrance upon the office and my surrender of it.”{4}

James A. Garfield
James A. Garfield

5) James A. Garfield

20th President

Garfield was a Republican that served the people from March 4, 1881 to September 19, 1881.

Garfield was another president known, in history, more for his death, than his life, or tenure as president. Garfield was taken down by an communist assassin by the name of Charles J. Guiteau. Though Garfield only had four months of health while serving the people as president, he did manage to give resurgence to the president’s authority over Senatorial courtesy in making executive appointments. He also energized naval power, he purged the corruption in the Post Office, and he appointed several African-Americans to prominent positions. During the eighty days in which Garfield suffered through the cruelty of the assassin’s bullet, he signed one, single extradition paper. Some historians have suggested that Garfield may have been one of our most talented and eloquent presidents had he lived long enough to expose this to the nation, but he was able to serve the nation in Congress having served nine consecutive terms, and he was able to do what he could in the short time that he served as president. Candice Millard’s brilliant book Destiny of The Republic captures the essence of Garfield with the quote: “Born into abject poverty, he rose to become a wunderkind scholar, a Civil War hero, a renowned congressman, and a reluctant presidential candidate who took on the nation’s corrupt political establishment.”

Knowing his death was imminent, James A. Garfield’s final words were: “My work is done.” {5}

Benjamin Harrison
Benjamin Harrison

6) Benjamin Harrison

23rd President

Harrison was a Republican that served the people from March 4, 1889 to March 4, 1893.

Harrison is most notable for being the grandson of William Henry Harrison, and the man that defeated the mighty Grover Cleveland in the Electoral College vote in 1888. Harrison’s tenure was also famous for passing the McKinley Tariff and the Sherman Antitrust Act. He was also famous for allowing federal spending to reach one billion dollars. Harrison also advocated for federal funding for education, he was unsuccessful in that regard. He also pushed for legislation that would protect the voting rights of African Americans. The latter would be the last attempts made at civil rights in the country until the 1930’s. Learning from the after effects of a long inaugural, courtesy of his Grandfather’s record long speech that some believe led to his death, Benjamin Harrison kept his inaugural address brief. Though historians tend to disregard Harrison as a prominent president, they regard his foreign policies as laying the groundwork for much that would be accomplished in the 20th century. {6}

Calvin Coolidge
Calvin Coolidge

7) Calvin Coolidge

30th President

Calvin Coolidge was a Republican that served the people from August 2, 1923 to March 4, 1929.

Coolidge would not stand a chance in today’s 24-7 news network, internet definition of politics. In the current climate of celebrity presidential candidates climbing all over one another for more air time, a better sound bite, and a better image, “Silent Cal” Calvin Coolidge would have been run over. In this age of bigger and better governments, where politicians on both sides of the aisle try to flex their legislative muscle in bill signings that are celebrated media events, Calvin Coolidge signed legislation into law in the privacy of the office. In a quote that could be attributed to the current, progression of big government, Calvin Coolidge said: “The requirements of existence have passed beyond the standard of necessity into the region of luxury.” Calvin Coolidge would be a laughing stock in our day and age, a man on the outside looking in, a statesman that would’ve faded into the woodwork of our society.

Social critic and satirist Dorothy Parker once said: “Mr. Coolidge, I’ve made a bet against a fellow who said it was impossible to get more than two words out of you.”

Coolidge’s famous reply: “You lose.”

After hearing that Coolidge passed away, four years after leaving office, Parker remarked: “How can they tell?”

Although Coolidge was known to be a skilled and effective public speaker, in private he was a man of few words and was referred to as “Silent Cal” in most quarters. On this reputation, Coolidge said:

“The words of a President have an enormous weight, and ought not to be used indiscriminately.” 

Although known as a quiet man, Coolidge participated in over five hundred press conferences during his 2000 days as president, that is an average of one press conference every four days. Coolidge took over the office of president after his predecessor’s death, amid his predecessor’s controversy, that was called the Teapot Dome Scandal. The Teapot Dome Scandal was regarded as the “greatest and most sensational scandal in the history of American politics” until the media discovered the Watergate scandal. In the wake of this scandal, Coolidge told a reporter:

“I think the American people want a solemn ass as a President, and I think I will go along with them.”

Coolidge may have been the last statesman the American people had to serve as president. He was against the Klu Klux Klan, for instance, but he didn’t make grandstanding statements against the Klan, he just didn’t appoint Klan members to positions in his administration. This may seem to be such an obvious move that it’s not worth discussion, but the KKK had a lot of influence at this time in America, and Coolidge’s move caused them to lose much of it. Coolidge tried to take this one step further, calling for anti-lynching laws, but the attempts to pass this legislation were stopped by Democrat filibusters. He attempted to make war illegal in the Kellogg-Briand act, but that law proved ineffective. Coolidge was a laissez-faire president who didn’t believe that the federal government should have a role in farm subsidies or flood relief. As much as he wanted to help these people, he wanted to avoid setting the precedent of the federal government resolving problems that he believed could better be solved, on a case-by-case basis, locally. By the end of his administration, he achieved a tax bill that had all but the top 2% paying no federal income taxes. Coolidge disdained federal regulation and appointed commissioners that followed his philosophy that believed in state’s rights, and this caused a divide in historical opinion of his administration.

Some believe that this laissez-faire approach led to “The Roaring Twenties”, others argue that it led to “The Great Depression.” As with all matters such as these, the opinions are based on where the historian lies on the ideological divide. Some historians say that “The Roaring Twenties” was built on a bubble similar to the 1990’s tech bubble in that it wasn’t built on hard assets, and when that bubble did burst, as it did in the 90’s, a recession occurred as a result. That recession, say other historians, was prolonged into a depression that lasted to the forties by the recovery measures put in place by future administrations. The latter argument has it that the economy may have experienced a dip as a result of the bubble bursting, but the extended duration of this natural, down cycle was caused by the measures put in place by future administrations to recover from what may have otherwise been a temporary dip. Arguments such as these are impossible to resolve, however, because one cannot remove some facts to prove others.

Historians from both sides of the aisle have also defined his last words in varying ways. Those who oppose Coolidge’s actions, state that his last words were a lamentable admission that his limited government policies didn’t work. Those who favor his policies state that he was lamenting the course America was on, into a country of big government policies. They state that Coolidge’s administration was, itself, a temporary blip in a progression that Theodore Roosevelt started, and they suggest that based on everything Coolidge saw during his tenure, he foresaw this.

His last words were: “I feel I no longer fit in with these times.”{7}

Some presidents affected the course of nation in profound ways, others used underappreciated subtle, deft maneuvers to change the course of the nation and the federal government, and how it governs the people. Some of the presidents were overwhelmed and some were those right place, right time presidents who used their tenure to lay the groundwork for making this country the envy of the world. To those, like me, who might take this notion for granted, it didn’t have to go this way. Some of us find it interesting to note that if the wrong man were elected at the wrong time, even those presidents who don’t make “the greatest of all time” lists, this country could be a decidedly different one.

If you’re as interested in U.S. History through relatively obscure presidents as I am, read Obscure Presidents part II

 

{1}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grover_Cleveland

{2}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abraham_Lincoln

{3}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Henry_Harrison

{4}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_Van_Buren

{5}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_A._Garfield

{6}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benjamin_Harrison

{7}http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calvin_Coolidge#cite_note-128