« Posts tagged Archive

A Muffled Beep Beside Me

Is the title of a poem that debuted in print along with the editorial brilliance [compliment directed towards the team with whom I had the good fortune of working, BTW] in Giuseppina magazine 21 : The Acceptance Issue.

And not that you asked . . . but yes : In my continued assault against the expected, this piece was composed in a form not open but rather fixed, or — despite how deliciously perverse I consider usage of the term, a myriad of connotations attached to it as stead-fast as a spiked cilice to the inner thigh of an Opus Deistrict.

By no means is it my intention to imply that free verse is inferior, but rather familiar. Hence, exploring the paradoxical freedoms of composing within a limited; i.e., formal poetic structure . . . namely, one of my own creation? Oftentimes the experience is nothing short of numinous.

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numinous (adj.) : describing an experience that makes one fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted — the powerful, personal feeling of being overwhelmed and inspired

Alive, Within The Spaces Amid Love

Nice to kick off the new year with a reminder that Cottonmouth Kisses hasn’t . . . well, you know : kicked it. In this case, thanks to the blog The Spaces Amid Love for posting an excerpt from the poem “Danielle, I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You.”

And since it’s been a while since this little bugger‘s inception, here are a few Cottonmouth Kisses reviews . . . “For Your Convenience.” : Via Marcus Pan of Legends MagazineKevin Killian of Small Press TrafficAra Taylor for The Bellingham HeraldCara Bruce of The San Francisco Bay GuardianRichard Davis for The Lambda Literary Review [ previously Lambda Book Report ] † Cathi Unsworth of Bizarre Magazine

Thanks, all!

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Only Pictures

Mad gratitude to Beauty Nursed On Darkness for the post [ditto 115 Tumblrers, for the notes!] Much appreciated, indeed . . .

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On Criticism

“ It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. ”

Theodore Roosevelt

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And another thing: his work is completely devoid any sense of gravitas. In fact, it’s just…void. Only style — or attempts thereof, rather. Neither substance, nor emotional complexity one finds inherent in a truly genuine talent, like J.T. Leroy. Now there…mark my words: there —

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For Kathy, Upon Reading The Village Voice [ February 23, 1976 ]

Performance. The performative.
I need more performance art in my life.

Reading this clipping sped my pulse, made me feel
both as if I were a spectator and a participant in the event.
[ Each is the other, ultimately. ]

A nod to your ghost, Kathy Acker…

I never told you that several lifetimes ago, back when I lived
in a dry county in Nowheresville, Arkansas —
so eager to claw out of that place
the tips of my fingers ached

I stole a San Francisco telephone book from the local library
[ planning, as it were, my ’ great escape ’ ] and
was so stunned to see your name / number listed, I
had to call and confirm you were you.

Sorry I hung up, but not-so-sorry
Caller I.D. didn’t exist yet in that
ancient history

What…I don’t know what else
I could or would’ve said

My favorite writers, artists :
I guess I view them the way most people do “rock stars.”

Even the term ‘rock and roll’ induces eye-rolling on this end, but
I’d stomp my feet and raise a lighter
for an encore

of your life, for
your life cut short —

This world is a cancer : it eats everything
precious, everything
every thing

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DRESSED TO THE TEETH

I have tired of my face pressed
to the windowpane staring watching
waiting gazing at this bloody month
of winter unwinding itself before me
pumping lost love letters and
lipstick stains on private parts
in its flow I
have tired
of it
I am tired
so I shamelessly step
from a life lived by
scrupulous selection into
the apocalyptic fury
outside inside: a
cinematic panshot
the remains of myself given over
to frosty pink lipglossed hookers skirting
about in see-through blouses and
micro spandex wrappers slit
to the curve of ass cheeks jiggling in
twenty-five dollar anticipation of
some john who’d like a snack to eat
I’m the only one who seems to
be paying either attention or them
and I want to brush my teeth
brushing off a Suzy Wrong with
a flyspecked complexion who
can barely speak English
pleading “you want sucky-
fucky?” and poking her
chopsticked fingers at me
my boots shuffle by
dry on chipped concrete the
sidewalk cracks resembling
veins lonely for someone’s teeth
I make it to my fluorescent-
lit mailbox and
laugh as if I’m mocking
the whole codependent
romantic notion, trying to
pretend I don’t know damn
well that yesterday’s date
was February thirteenth
Valentine’s Day licks its
vampire chops and
drools ropes of red tar like
severed arteries
my stomach churns with
nervousness as I stick
my mailbox with the stake-
shaped key and twist
and turn and
peek inside its
guts there’s
an offering of a single
crimson-colored
square piece of paper which
I yank out like an abortion
and head back across
the street toting
the casket of red death
beneath my arm and
grinning shit at the call girls’ hissing
“Here, kitty kitty” my
thoughts are frisky-frenzied and
distant my heart races with
all the possibilities of an empty-
cornered envelope
the intoxication of remembrances
an address to return to and
memories to address
with an abbreviated
version of a smirk curled
in the corners of my mouth
I shove my thumbnail unseal
pry but what I find
inside yanks my tongue
out and smashes
my ribcage from the
impact of that pot-bellied bastard
cupid sprawled out on
a generic greeting card
the message “I’ve got an eye
on your sweet tooth, Valentine”

streamlined in the shape of
an arrow and “Best Wishes
from Dr. Stepka, d.d.”
some-
thing-or-other down
at the bottom the
sweet slogan in script letters
words that
curl and close themselves
around me:
all my living breathing something
turning nothing, empty-
gutted like last year’s
heart-shaped cardboard box,
a shell that once housed
chocolate treats now
graveyard of past lovers and friends
packed to the hilt
I stiffen with the ghostlike
reminder that love
is a noose
dimly or definitely or
disguised like
those letters of “Best
Wishes…”
are lies
in peppermint-colored curlicued drag
to drag a sucker in but
then again I’ve
never even cared about
the trumped-up sweetheart
scene, have always known that
bit is
no disease for me
I head towards my
place, cut out
scissor-stepping hard and
brisk and cold
a rapid streak so
quick I can’t unveil or even see
the emptiness of dark mascara-
clustered eyes surrounding couldn’t
can’t be anything
like me
I step
feel the whirring of flared nostrils
step and
force a smile
I step
sway my arms as if I’ve got snake-
eyes beneath my sleeves
because being sincere
solves nothing
I step and
step and make
it to my stoop and
solve my problem of the moment
by leaving it behind:
Valentine’s Day a past
now passed
shot down like
this gunpowder night that
sighs with its
softbound sounds from the gutter
wheezes coughs and
spits out a slit-
stained backdrop for
a crumbling city
St. Valentine’s a
myth forgotten a
false belief outgrown
like training bras or hopes
for true love treadmarked
by the sole of my shoes
that step
I step and
for a second before I kiss
the delusion smack-dab on the lips,
I am afoot with
reaching my remembrances
dressed to the teeth
in fabulous

vacancy

Clint Catalyst, from the book Cottonmouth Kisses

Thanks to Beauty Nursed on Darkness for the post!
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Interview on Eliza Cuts’ Show on Fearless Radio.com — June 17, 2007

Clint Catalyst Interview with Eliza Cuts (mp3)

Clint Co-Hosts Permission Mag Podcast

Episode #13 (Entitled “Clint Catalyst Is Real; JT Leroy Is Not)

“TL;DR” Overdrive…

Well, actually:

Yes, I wore the soles off my 20-e Doc’s many an eve
dancing to the 12″ mix of Ministry’s “Everyday is Halloween”
in back-alley nightclubs where I was years away from years from
being ‘of age’ to attend in the first place

(translation: the main thing that made it fun–
or at least that’s how it seems, looking back)

back in ancient history, also known as
my bereaved degenerate youth

I’ve been revisiting some of the more
dynamic moments from what could aptly be filed away in memory
as ‘The Clintagious Chronicles’ due to
the current book project on which I’ve been working

Degeneracy: A Love Letter.


// R.I.P., oh Long Lost Love…despite the toxic goulash of highlights,

lowlifes and embarrassingly awkward good times, how

exhilarating it seems your freedom was //

Whatever the case, here’s a recent update “from the set,”

featuring the inimitable beauty of actress/model Mageina Tovah

in the first of her two looks for the day:


 


Copious detail/commentary is provided on the clip’s YouTube page,

including info on the other peeps present who

deserve some serious ‘propers’ of their own.

(Irene Urias from Hairroin Salon, Genevieve Lamb from Dior, and

of course my co-conspirator, Amanda Brooks :

childhood f(r)iend/former ‘partner in crime’-turned-responsible mom)

Maendi and I lived by the edict that everyday presented

a new opportunity: the chance to become whomever/whatever we want

by dressing up.

To this day, I’m a tremendous advocate of the belief–

I mean, it was a mere three weeks ago, yet

I’m already missing Halloween.

With an outfit as genius as what Jared Gold concocted on my behalf,

how could I not?


  

and for the more detail-obsessed

FASHION DIE-HARDS OUT THERE,

here’s a considerably more comprehensive 5 minute clip in which

The Master of Delicate Decadence

shares everything from the costume’s “reveal”

to secret compartments ensconced within:

As for All Hallow’s Eve ‘proper,’ I gotta tell ya: generally speaking,

I was stoked to see so many Alice in Wonderland characters runnin’ around…

There were a slew of them both at the ‘Bitches Brew’ party, as well as a hearty smattering of Mad Hatters afterwards

when we hit the Brite Spot for some “fine” (enough) dining.

Seriously now: being a “Glad Hatter” myself–how could I not adore them? Despite accusations that I’m a ‘camera whore,’ (harumph!)

there aren’t many pictures of me from the evening. Nonetheless, I managed to snap one
of that dang adorable little Janine Jarman

& face-beater extraordinaire Noel Nichols within the first few minutes of our arrival; then cheers as other guests followed suit…

Q: Ever “spanked the monkey”? (Effing genius coincidence captured, that…)

As for me, I danced to the phenomenal tuneage spun by D.J.s Marta & Jen,

workin’ my ‘Demented Barber, Circa ’99…1899, That Is’ accessories for all they—

& the accompanying attitude in which I came “dressed”—were worth

(looks like SOMEONE needs a hug, hrmm? Just call me ‘Mr. Congeniality!’)

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Hence the “Not My Best Look” oilslick on my gesicht

(Hand on a Merrir breast, though Mr. Gold seems unimpressed…)

Rockin’ TWO TYPES OF CLEAVE…

Thanks for the mammaries, Miss Sarah Merrie!

[Ampersand.Hearts.Semicolon]

Another shot from the evening:


Kaiden as “Epic Fail: Scene ‘LOL’,” Stevie Ryan as a pretty version of Pee Wee Herman,

and Adam Paranoia throwin’ Teen Wolf in a most serious way…

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

And speaking of serious,

I was seriously surprised to learn that when my pal Brandon came to town for a visit

he comped me a frickin’–well, really expensive Madonna ticket.

9th row front, 3rd center of the ‘T-shaped’ stage

for one night

vs.

more than an entire month’s rent?

Can’t say I would’ve made that one happen myself…

* Thanks again, B! *

(I love how undeniably excited he is…)

& of course, via his iPhone we’ve got

“Pics or It Didn’t Happen”

O.K… so Home Skillet put on a phenomenal show.

I won’t make any references about how “I would hope so”; moreover,

I’ll refrain from utilizing any clichéd monikers in my commentary.

(Seriously journalists: by this point, any hack who refers to Mz. M as “The Material Girl”

should be force-fed the Oxford English Dictionary One. Page. At a time.)

but let me just tell you: when she threw down some DOUBLE DUTCH…

Well, let’s just say… despite another ’80s ricochet (nod to Keith Haring notwithstanding)

I was seventeen shades of impressed. It’s no secret I’ve been trying to assemble my own double-dutch squad

capable of weaving our way through the ropes while dressed in elaborate couture for quite some time… So until ‘The Swingers’ come to fruition,

I’ll cease this gargantuan post with the note

What I’m really dying to know is:

Has anyone else heard the rumor that Alexander McQueen will be designing a limited-run for Target?

They’ve scored some outstanding talent in the past but McQueen?

Truly: it’s a shame Isabella Blow isn’t here with us to share her thoughts on the topic (not to mention her opinions in general–but that’s a given)

& on a final rash note about fash: Did anybody rack up any great merch among the H & M/Comme Des Garcons collabo?

I wasn’t able to devote the entire morning of the 13th to waiting in line

in an attempt to score at least one piece of the instant collectibles.

(Different story altogether with the Viktor & Rolf launch from…hrmm… Two years ago, wasn’t it?)

However, thanks to my dear pal Pedro, I didn’t completely miss out on the goods that were gone in…what? Something like 17 minutes?

& though you might have thought it’d never happen, this is me, waaaay all kinds of outta here!

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Tarina Tarantino’s Official Barbie Release Party

“Worst Dressed” Lists Are Go!

This news is a few days late (frickin’ deadlines…), but July 22, 2008 marks the official date for when I was “BUSTED!” (Busted Daily Dot Com) for my attire at Tarina Tarantino’s official Barbie doll release party. I’m a sicko; I know– but seriously: it fills my heart with glee:

Busteddaily,Clint Catalyst,Maryse,WWE diva,WWE diva Maryse

A friend and I have joked that making the “Worst Dressed List” in one of those shit-rags is a lifetime goal—especially since the attire is almost always by my favorite designers—and while the site’s not on glossy pages in a grocery store check-out line, it’s one step closer…

Plus I’m with Maryse, Queen Bitch Supreme of the WWE—who’ss donning full-on retro Barbie look via a make-over by quite likely my FAVORITE designer, Jared Gold.

My pic comes up as #2 of 7… and who else made the list?


margaret cho,comedian,out and about

Margaret Cho

Tarina Tarantino
and Tarina Tarantino,


Two of my favorite people on the planet.

Proof/Pudding.
Riiiight?

Obviously, the site uses the term “Busted!” with a multitude of meanings, as complimentary things are written about both of them in separate areas.

All I have is my name credited, so I’m opting for “BUSTED!” in the worst sense of the word.

O.K., not very worst… but if you get the notion of something being ‘so bad it’s good,’ then I know you know what I mean.

And umm, I need to take it easy on the “naw mean,”
duly noted.

For party pics that aren’t among those on WireImage et al, have fun scroll scroll scrolling below!

The event itself was back on the 17th, but I’ve been smothered beneath a succession of work– hence the tardiness.

Otherwise, here are my “Thank God! I’m Validated!” swiped-and-watermarked:


Clint Catalyst,Audrey Kitching,Rich Royal

with the adorable Audrey Kitching and Rich Royal

Kaiden Blake

with Madeline Zima and the phenomenal Tarina Tarantino

(not my best shot — yes, I know)

but

LOOK UPON:

Alfonso Campos
Alfonso Campos, Director and Hubby to Double T

Giddle Partridge,Tarina Tarantino Barbie
Giddle Partridge, Musician and Proud Owner of Her Own Tarina Barbie

Beatrice DeJong,Hairroin Salon
Reyna and Beatrice, Two of the Crew of Hotties at HairroinSalon.com

Kaiden Blake,Kaila Yu,Zachary Horn,Kat Lee
Kaiden Blake, Kaila Yu, Zachattack and Kit E. Katt (of HelloDrama.net)

Margaret Cho,Clint Catalyst

Yeah, I Love Me Some ChoMo (Ditto on the Creepsuela Stiletto Mini Top Hats, Obviously…)

Tarina Tarantino,Barbie

Much Admiration and Adoration for This One Here!

Audrey Kitching,Audrey scene queen
SOMEONE is LETTING US *HAVE IT…*

Tarina Tarantino,WWE diva

Tarina and WWE Diva Maryse, Enjoying “The Barbie Lifestyle”

Lenora Claire,tarina tarantino barbie release party

Lenora Claire, Self-Proclaimed “Future Cult Icon” Is Hotter Than Her Hair!

Clint Catalyst,kitt e. katt,kaila yu,hello drama
Blogature on This Duo (Katt and Kaila of Hello Drama) Coming SOON!

Jared Gold,Tarina Tarantino,WWE Diva Maryse

Can’t Forget That Jared Gold and WWE Diva Maryse (Bedecked in a JG Original, Natch)…

WWE Maryse,Maryse WWE,WWE divas

Before Any Inappropriate Behavior

In the Dollhouse


Has Begun!

(This blog and the contents herein have not been approved by Mattel. After the accidental ‘Gay Ken’/Cock Ring Necklace mix-up, I do not foresee Barbie having any limp-wristed sidekicks in the near future.
Bitch is still fierce, though. I ain’t hate-crimin’! ♥)

x o x o x
Clintankerous Maximus

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CFF – Two Awards For Catalyst In 2008

“Renaissance Man Of The Year” and “Author With Most Anticipated New Release” from outré arts journal CFF

(Oh, and about that ‘new release’? I’m getting a bit impatient myself, thankyouverymuch…)

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