Max Ernst

I am going to make a case for Jennifer Egan's 2010 novel A Visit from the Good Squad: Yo Max, what is the book about? Well, it is about a lot of things. Essentially, it is a decade spanning story of socially linked individuals trying to resist the inevitable deterioration of the self brought on by the passing of time. Cultures and counter-cultures are examined under a close lens, as the novel sharply explores how our attitudes and ideologies change with life experience. The book dates as far back as the early-seventies, and spans into the near-future, so we are talking about plenty of time here. That doesn't sound that radical, Max. What makes this book so different? Well, most apparent is the book's unusual form. The book darts not only between different narrators, but also different vernaculars. There is a chapter in first person, second person (I know, right?), and third person. There is even a chapter entirely in PowerPoint. These different narratorial modes are done with a specific purpose, and working out why Egan chose a particular frame of narration for a particular character is one of the joys of the novel. Also, the book elegantly weaves its swirling cast of characters in a way that makes you realise how connected everyone really is. Do you ever stare at someone on the bus and go "who is that guy, anyway? What is his story?" Egan looks to answer that.Without escape, we all wear the baggage of time. Is the book actually good, or just a neat experiment? Don't lie to me, Max. The book is great! It is far too early to deem it a classic, but as dead German surrealist, it has my stamp of approval. But don't take my word for it, the book won an assload of prizes, including a Pulitzer and the National Book Critics Circle Award. People dug this book. So, I'm going to love it? Perhaps not! The book has its detractors. A lot of the complaints towards this text accuse Egan of writing a novel that is solely supported by its form. They argue that if it weren't for the interwoven narrative or the crazy perspective switches, no one would care about this book. Myself, I completely disagree, but I respect the argument. But who am I to talk, I haven't painted anything new since 1976 (on account of being dead). Any final piece of evidence you wish to present before you end this overwrought forums post? I will leave you with quote from the book, which exemplifies the novel's themes and the sharpness of Egan's prose: “Like all failed experiments, that one taught me something I didn’t expect: one key ingredient of so-called experience is the delusional faith that it is unique and special, that those included in it are privileged and those excluded from it are missing out.”

When I joined this forum, I was nothing but a giant loser who played too many video games. Now, I am one of the greatest ever artists and my name is synonymous with the surrealist movement in the early 20th century, and I owe it all to this site. This forum has allowed me to contribute in a way that I never before dreamed possible. People stop me in the street and say "hey, your contributions on the internet web community Idle Thumbs were some of the best I've ever seen, man". My art was never taken seriously before I joined the forums, which created outreach avenues in my key demographics. My advice about contribution is to contribute with your heart, and not your head. Once, my pal Salvador Dali and myself were viewing a small exhibition by our good friend Yves Tanguy, and he turned to me and said "Max, Yves will never reach our level in the art world. And do you know why? Because when he uses the internet and contribute on video game forums, you can tell that he isn't contributing authentically". Those words have always stuck with me. They also explain why no one likes Yves Tanguy. I hope this advice has been helpful to you, and may you contribute as beautifully as anything nature could possible create. - Max Ernst, Dead German Surrealist, Forums Contributor

High school me would be really riled up if he knew I would be typing such rubbish.

Yeah, I am very tired and bad at forums.

Dave Grohl should really quit his day job because he is a phenomenal rock drummer and yet he fronts one of the blandest rock bands in existence, even if the first Foo Fighters record was really great in a strange, hypnotising way. Also, Big Dipper just released a new record out of nowhere, which makes me nostalgic for their eighties stuff. Here is one of my favourite cuts, a power pop classic about an astrologer who understandings the workings of the universe but not why his marriage is falling apart:

I just churned through Don DeLillo's White Noise. It is still as fantastic as I remember. It draws upon themes of living in a risk society, technological determinism, and widespread misinformation through an ever present media, all of which are part of my honours thesis, so that works out nicely. The book employs a powerful, ultra descriptive style, allowing DeLillo to create a variety of interesting scenes that would work even if they were isolated from the novel. Also, the book makes you think a lot about your eventual death, which bums you the fuck out. I'm now one hundred pages into Jennifer Egan's A Visit from the Goon Squad, which is also really great. The book bounces through multiple characters, multiple time settings and changes vernacular often, but has a core story that runs throughout. So far, what is jumping out for me is the way in which all of our lives start at a relatively similar place, yet misfortune and bad decision making ultimately ruin us and turn us into bitter, jaded adults.

See, this is why I really enjoy the narratives that have been written by Chris Avellone (Black Isle, Obsidian). He makes a strong point of not having the character save the world, and instead tries to write his stories in two different ways: an introspective journey in which the protagonist learns about themselves in relation to the world around them (Planescape: Torment), or the protagonist simply acting in a very small role of a much larger social/historical movement (Fallout: New Vegas). Also, its cool that Chris can look past the plot/characters bullshit and enjoy the mechanics of Halo. As much as I enjoy the encounters in the game, without the narrative motivating me to continue, I soon lose interest. Halo is great game if you want to witness storytelling at its absolute worst. Gross pandering bullshit, insipid dialogue, shoehorned story beats that are stick out because they are obviously there to justify set pieces, and flat, lifeless characters. The annoying thing is, between all of these moments, the encounter dynamics are really, really interesting. So I might try Chris' method and just skip every cutscene.

You should back this game because Eric Shumaker is hilarious and this game looks to be wonderful. Watch the pitch video, the jokes are incredible. It is like watching a Brett Gelman piece in a video game.

Well, looks like I found a new purpose to keep living.

I purchased Sleeping Dogs, but not much else appeals to me. Also, I bought a bunch of expansions for The Sims 3, and I'm having an amazing time playing them. I have a fat, neckbearded goon who wears a fedora and aspires to become a magician. His career isn't going so hot, so he (well, I) decided to take his business to the consumer: door-to-door magic. It is going horribly for him and it's amazing. So yeah, don't be video game snobs and get some Sims 3 into you.

Blood Meridian is a masterpiece from start to finish. It's basically Moby Dick in the West, but instead of following an emotionally driven madman, they are following a figure who represents cold rationality. Besides, "Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent" is the coolest fucking line.

Thanks for the recommendations, I'll watch them in the upcoming week.

I just bought the first Misfits and the latest Flying Lotus albums on vinyl, and that makes me really happy. I think Flying Lotus has gone a bit too harsh on his hi hats, because it can occasionally become grating on the human ear Yet, it is a much more cohesive effort than his previous record, which had strange slap-bass interludes that made everything feel a little disjointed.

Also, I just blew through Justin Torres' brilliant novel We The Animals, and I think I've spent longer thinking about the book than I did reading it. It's a really great look at gender dynamics and roles in a very small, poor, insulated family. It has a tremendous undercurrent of sadness buried under the ignorance of children's laughter, which gives the book a really strange tone. Incredibly affecting. It's short and you should buy it and read it and then thank me later.

You know how you start to get really into fiction, and start to aspire to become an author, and then you read something so perfect that you realise that there is no way you in hell you have the chops to write great fiction? That was Gatsby, for me. Fitzgerald has great prose that uses beautiful language to paint a scene better than almost anybody I've every read. This, along with Toni Morrison's Sula, Thomas Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49 and William Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, is one of those books that makes me gush when I start talking about it. The one theme that really jumped out at me was the overwhelming drive to own material possessions, and how turn of the century America defined class based of material goods rather than lineage. On the simplest level, The Great Gatsby documents the truism that money can't buy you love, or at least not the tainted money Gatsby acquires in his campaign to take Daisy away from her husband. It would have been difficult for him to compete with Tom's resources, in any event. Nick describes the Buchanans as "enormously wealthy," and Tom himself as a notorious "spendthrift". When he and Daisy moved from Lake Forest to East Egg, for example, he brought along a string of polo ponies. "It was hard to realize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to do that," Nick observes. Furthermore, Daisy represents the most desirable object of all. She is invariably associated with the things that surround her, her car and her house particularly, and most of all her voice. Everyone remembers Gatsby's remark that her voice is "full of money," but that judgment comes only after several wonderful descriptions and demonstrations of its power. When we first meet Daisy at the Buchanans' dinner party, Nick speaks of her "low, thrilling voice" with its promise that "she had done gay, exciting things just a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour." Men found it hard to forget. Daisy rarely "says" things. She "murmurs" or "whispers" instead, compelling the listener forward for her breathless message. That voice, Nick concludes near the end of the text(I think?), couldn't be over stated. A lot of this is cribbed from my old notes from my second year English lit course, but I can't wait to dive back in fully and discuss it with you guys.

This thread is cool and whoever inspired it must be, by extension, also pretty cool. What I love about the game is how it strives to be consistently 'organic'. All of the characters have a cardboard cutout feel, the sound effects are just people making silly sounds with their mouths, and the music is almost completely made up of actual instruments. The soundtrack is really wonderful, sounding like Philip Glass without being so abrasive. A lot of swirling horns and obscure percussion really help the feeling of being immersed in the ecosystem of the forest. Also, if you hated Machinarium because of its obtuse puzzles, you can rest easy because Botanicula has simple puzzles, that are just challenging enough to make you feel smart rather than condescended to. Also, screenshots because it is pretty and every screen is wallpaper worthy:

Where is the list of upcoming books? The Twitter feed still says Cloud Atlas, and the web page still says Telegraph Avenue. I want to try and manage my reading load before December, and I love this podcast series. (Haven't listened to latest episode yet, finishing the text as we speak)

Then you must be lucky enough not to read too much about video games. But seriously, I have encountered the criticism that the game is "too kiddy" or "too happy", so I'm just anticipating those objections.

That's really awesome, but I should have added that your heart has to be open to joy to really click with this game. Please let me know what you think of it!

My game of the year is Botanicula. I think the word 'smitten' has been overused by the games press, but my vocabulary is struggling to come up with a word that better reflects my overall opinion of the game. The audio and visual design is incredible, with creativity flourishing from every pixel. It deals with themes of the preservation of nature, the harmony of the ecosystem and the (wait for it) power of friendship, but you don't have to acknowledge any of that to be taken in with the game's charm. Play it on GOG or Steam or whatever, but play it. It is one of the best adventure games of all time. Particularly because the puzzles aren't obtuse, and you won't be stuck combining your inventory with everything on the screen Also worth mentioning: FTL was really great, but it so emotionally taxing I can't bear to play it for a while. Dishonored had some stunning world design, as well as an amazing sense of traversal and progression. Pity the story itself was trash. The Walking Dead was something really special. I just wish more people were willing to go the "interactive fiction" (not sure of how to classify it properly) route and apply it to things that aren't zombies or whatever David Cage comes up with. I would love these systems set in a non fantasy/sci-fi/supernatural game. That said, I think about the story and characters about this game a lot, so that says something about the game's merit. I found it so impressive that the sense of 'bleakness' doesn't completely overwhelm the player, and that each character's motivations were apparent without being screamed in your face. Hotline Miami was great because I like weird movies and that game was weird as shit.

My social media team is hesitant to use Klout after we got a bad deal, and now I have the top Klout score in the category "dingus". Same caution applies to Foursquare, as becoming the major of "Butt Town" has really hurt our bottom line.

My personal brand is in tatters. My online presence is abysmally low in all of my key demographics. If this trend continues, I am going to have to back out of my plan to diversify, and instead move towards consolidation. Does anyone have any tips for promoting my personal brand in a way that would set up a robust framework in which other brands, personal or corporate, can be integrated to create multidimensional exposure? Social web logging (blogs) are a must, and my social media team are telling me that I must "engage to promote", but we are struggling to come up with a good strategy to do so. Hit me up on ICQ if you have any tips you would rather keep on the down low.

I've just rewatched Melancholia for the third time, and now I need another movie that has a similar tone. Primarily, I am looking for films that deal with the alienation of depression, and the idea of being "there but not there". The idea of trying to put on your best face as you feel yourself crumbling internally is fascinating, and I don't know of many other films that deal with it. I'm more of a book guy, so my knowledge on cinema is lacking. I've watched other Lars Von Trier films, so I need to step out of the box for a little.

What makes that astute observation even stranger is that American Pastoral deals with the idea that each generation feels that they lived through the highest point of American culture, and in their latter years feel that the country is in a decline. American Pastoral just works on so many different levels for me. The prose is particular, the characters are incredibly multidimensional, and each theme is elegantly tied to another. I love how he explores the limits of human perception and understanding, and how we management of identities to protect us from others and ourselves. I would argue that it is his last great work, and up there with The Ghost Writer as my favourite. I love Philip Roth, yet I'm not too sad about his retirement. I would argue that the last ten years of his career has provided interesting works, yet nothing particularly profound. He's had a good run, he deserves a rest. When or if Don DeLillo retires, I'm going to be just as sad. Already looking for my copy of White Noise​ in preparation.

Philip Roth announced his retirement, so I'm going to read American Pastoral again in his honour. Honestly, it might be one of the best works of postmodern fiction I've ever encountered.