With Continual Reference to Justin Kahn.

Friday, June 02, 2006

A Painfully Boring Post Containing Information That Will Only Be of Interest to My Closest Friends and Family.

Online chat rooms are rife with speculations about my decision to release Curtis as my manservant. I apologize for those of you who get your jollies from reading this blog. For today I have to waste a whole post to ‘setting the record straight.’

Sometime ago, I noted that Curtis had become rather smitten with a young lady. Based on my keen observations, it became obvious to me that he and she were interested in coupling for the long haul. After much deliberation, I decided that he should be set free so that he may pursue this relationship. Granted, it is a happiness I will never know for I am so wholly devoted to the craft of blogging that, I fear, it is my lot to lead an influential, powerful, high-income life, but one wholly devoid of the pleasures of interfacing with a single human being for the rest of my life (for confirmation of this, one only need count the number of times that Jenn has left comments in the last three weeks.)

This decision to set Curtis free not only cost me my manservant but the whole of the Kahn Estate. Yesterday, I completed a task, which made the building of Egyptian Pyramids look like nothing more than a bunch of dudes making 3-D triangles in the sand. I moved all my worldly possessions along a path which I have neatly diagramed with red dashes. The diagram isn’t 100% exactly accurate b/c I actually didn’t leap out the window and fly. I used the stairs, located inside the building . But you get a sense of the magnitude of my journey.

(Pictured: Justin's painting of what he calls, "The Pool Room." It is located in the corner room of his penthouse.)

I thought you should know all this, not only b/c of the ridiculous internet speculation, that seems to follow any of my decisions, but because I have begun work on a powerful story. It is not exactly an adaptation of the Odyssey but it tries to imagine, What would it be like if Ulysses lived in a Penthouse. I believe very strongly that life imitates art, and so I just wanted to give you a sense of where my inspiration is coming from. Had you not known the change in my living conditions, you might have been overwhelmed at my ability to come up with the idea of setting a Tragic Hero in a modern day penthouse.

I am not a magician (that is writer) who pulls rabbits(that is incredible ideas) from a hat (that is a hat.) I get them from my surroundings and now I have been perfectly honest about how my life feeds my art, while also providing an absolute end to much of the rumor mongering that has gone on.

Thank you closest friends and family for reading and I will see you on Monday, at what seems to be later and later time.

7 comments:

Erratic Scribbler said...

If Ulysses lived in a penthouse it would take him ten years to reach the bottom floor.

Justin said...

part-time buddha:
Thnk you for being one of my closest friends and family.

You make an excellent point. That is why my work is probably going to end up as an 800 page work, often cited, rarely read.

Think how much fun it will be to reach the bottom floor.
Justin

WIP said...

I like what your saying in the last two paragraphs the most. :-) they touch me right here * Rubs over heart*

yup, right there.

WIP

Jenn said...

Awwwww. You couldn't interface with me anyway. I'm all the way in Micronesia remember? And a spam bot at that.

Very sad.

Although I think Curtis may have some objections to be referred to as your Jeeves.

Ayatollah Mugsy said...

As a religious studies professor, do you ever address the concept of halaal rawhide?

Ledbelly said...

your the third or 4th person i've come across with this blogger background. i love it! if you dont mind sharing... where did you get it, and how do i put it into mine

Ruby Blathergab said...

lol, hilarious. I'm once again very glad to have visited your blog Justin. You kill me.

I'm sending you the "No Writer's Block Mojo" too. It's helped me in my literary endeavors.

Chow, P.