Showing posts with label Terd Macchio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Terd Macchio. Show all posts

Old Insincerity by Terd Macchio

Poop in my mouth, I will howl... - G-Berg, 1st white rapper
Old Insincerity, as we all know, has been a movement that hasn’t only shocked the nation but has rocked the very foundations of the written world. But what, and more specifically who, and more-more specifically how is Old Insincerity?

I’m sorry, can you repeat the question?

As you know—cause everyone and their mother knows—not my mother—she’s dead—I killed her—I was afraid she’d find out I write Old Sincerity fiction, you see—as we all know, one pioneer of Old Sincerity is Dogwalk Happen. Originally a beat poet, Dogwalk was ostracized from the coffeehouse scene for shitting in Allen Ginsberg’s mouth in 1955 while he was asleep (Ginsberg was asleep, that is, not Dogwalk, he was quite awake as he did the shitting). Though this act catapulted Dogwalk out of the up-and-coming writer scene that would one day inspire 19-year-olds to read “On the Road” and become even bigger dicks than we ever thought possible, it’s important to point out that this ol’ “shit fiasco” inspired Ginsberg’s most famous poem, “Howl.” “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,” being a direct reference to Dogwalk’s disdain for opinions, ideas and emotions.

From there, Dogwalk spent most of his time trying to “game” the system. That is, he held no job, wrote no poetry, and was on welfare.

Don’t go to the Appalachians kids – it could happen to you.

In recent years, as you know, as everyone knows, during Dogwalk’s “sabbatical,” a new generation of poets rose to more concretely define what Dogwalk started. I first met the likes of Edmund Paddlebath, Sinclair Arnold, JJ Curry Ford, and Fritzlos as I roamed the streets of LA, attending readings in which poets forwent the traditional process of using words to convey ideas, and just cried uncontrollably on stage. This, as we all know, was a precursor to Old Insincerity, containing too much raw material to be really insincere. Also, there were in fact women there too, but they’ve all gone on and married and had kids, so I don’t see any reason to mention them.

It wasn’t until Terd Macchio’s novels “Powerlifting at Sears Automotive” and “Reed Richards” that a concrete Old Insincerity scene or “voice” started to form. With Terd’s success, Alternating Literature became more popular, particularly with toddlers whose discerning taste in language was well suited for the work being written. Combined with Dogwalk’s return to writing (specifically, writing murder mysteries about the color spectrum), Terd and Dogwalk have started to define a generation of writers tired of what their professors are telling them to read, and are determined to create work that future students will similarly get tired of.

Terd insists that Old Insincerity is about spending the most amount of time you can on a piece to ensure you get the most meaning out of it. Literally, that is. Taking any semblance of meaning, and chucking it right out the window. “If the piece is heartfelt, or emotional, or true in any manner of speaking, it’s not insincere, and only pussies write sincerely,” Terd Macchio has said. “Sometimes I’ll spend days replacing all my adjectives with different types of vegetables. And don’t even get me started on verbs. Don’t use verbs in your poetry.”

Dogwalk has called into question, as we all know (you know this right?), Terd’s actual dedication to Old Insincerity.

“He wrote this really truthful, caring piece about his mother.” Dogwalk recently complained. “It was full of spelling errors, didn’t have one capital letter, and was raw emotion. It was disgusting. I don’t care if it was for his mother’s memorial, you put one iota of sincerity into your work, then you’re not Alternating Lit material.”

As personalities clash, there are many things to ask. Where is Alternating Lit going? Where is Old Insincerity going? Should we try to define it? What’s the use of defining it? Does it really help to define something? Can that turn people off to it? Does it make those who define it sound like they’re in some sort of club that no person in their right mind would want to join? Does Fritzlos really prevent himself from going number two through sheer concentration alone?

Who the fuck cares.

<3

Terd Macchio

Listen, I think we should start over...

by Terd Macchio

Hello, my name is Terd Macchio, I am a performance poet.
I am going to read you a performance poem.
It is called, Welcome: A Performance Poem

Welcome

Well
Come

Made from the roots well and come
Well: a spring, a source of water, a source of life
Come: the seed of man, semen, a source of life

Drink! Drink from my welcome!

Welcome! Welcome!
Welcome to the jungle!
Aye aye aye...

My penis is the Earth
My urethra a well
And you, audience, are very thirsty

Drink my life away

A famous poet who goes by comedian
Once said “When you fuck someone
You lose a little bit of your soul when you come.
And the only reason to fuck them again
Is to try and get it back.”

Well, ladies and gentleman,
I’ll be back.

The end.

Contest Winners!

Here it is, finally, at long last! Something that's totally better than the Alt Lit Gossip Awards. Terd Macchio introducing the winners of our "Handjobs Are Bleak Unless You Have Some Lube, Then They Can Be Pretty Decent, It Mainly Comes Down to Technique, I Guess" contest!



Take THAT Steve Roggenbuck.

Metaphors and Patriotism

by Terd Macchio

You are the illegal immigrant
who stowed away in my fenced-in,
moat-protected country of
a heart.

You hide away in my lugubrious,
artery strewn organ doing all of
my most hated, demeaning work
for next to nothing.

And I love you for it.

But I swear to fucking God
if I ever find you I will kick
you the hell out because this
is America, dammit.

USA
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Terd Macchio is a patriot, dammit.

Does anyone know Cormac McCarthy?

We want to do an interview with him, but we don't have his email and he doesn't seem to have a twitter or anything.

Anyways, we think he'd be interested. We'd do it over IM, a la Jordan Castro (who, like Cormac, has never submitted to us. What the hell?).


Terd Macchio