i wrote a book during the occupy wall street movement. i finished it just as it was finished: the movement a headless mass, what had been its strength proved to be its undoing; the parasitic layer of tyrannical fat that we laughingly call the establishment quickly realized that it had never needed a leader to imprison--it could simply jail anyone at all, destroy anyone's computer, burn anyone's books, and the movement would quickly be brought to collapse.
the book i wrote was a novel of stories, of fables and of what i like to call 'kernels.' the stories could be stylized, but mostly mirrored real life. except that unlike real life, thoughts could and would be fully expressed. such is art. at least the contrivance might entertain if not engage and go unnoticed. the fables, on the other hand, were pure confabulation; ahistorical sketches whose only reason for being was to illustrate whatever point i needed made or however something worked as far as i could tell. finally, the kernels were usually one sentence epigrams that captured how i saw the essence of a thing. they were usually the hardest to write. one of them, entitled 'Disinformation'--a single sentence--took me the better part of a week. most pieces didn't take nearly that long. Several were written at typing speed and haven't changed since. this was an internet novel, researched on the fly. a mosaic composed of pieces that contrasted and complemented and whose completion gave an overarching effect.
the pieces, the chapters, were and are entirely composed of unattributed dialogue. i suspect that this, along with the unrelenting critical tone and the carnivorously satirical nature of the project, was what made it radioactive to agents and publishers. while certain individuals found the reading experience intimate--like overhearing conversations with your eyes--most found the lack of expository passages offputting.
no work is for everyone. certainly this one is not. but like others whose work is posted here--people like Mark Fiore, Eric Lewis and Ruben Bolling--there will possibly be enough interest to warrant my posting what i've got and what i'm doing now.
a final note. the pieces are fictions; the conceit being that they've been written by a fictional character. the opinions offered within them are sometimes wildly inaccurate factually. this is intentional. this was my experience researching the book--much of the work here is a fictional rendering of actual conversations i'd had or overheard. not everything to be found here will reflect my own personal feelings or positions. like any artist, i'm just the messenger. but keep in mind the spirit of the thing should you join me below the fold. the book had a dedication page and on that page was this single sentence:
This book is dedicated to destroying you.