Xian: I am incredibly busy and it's difficult to keep up with everything. These days my consulting work takes up so much of my time that I am struggling to continue writing my novel ("For You, The Stars"), I am hardly ever practicing my ukulele, and I've given up painting entirely at least for the time being.
Bill: The book you edited with Levi Asher, Coffeehouse, is dedicated to Allen Ginsberg. Did you ever meet Ginsberg?
Xian: No, I never did, but Levi did. He told him about his site, Literary Kicks, and Ginsberg either had a hard time hearing him or didn't understand what he meant by "kicks" although the word, I believe, comes from Kerouac and the Beat-transmitted slang of the 50s.
Bill: What was it about Ginsberg that led to the book dedication?
Xian: He had just died and he was an inspiration to both of us. Levi and I met online through a mutual interest in the Beats. He was more into Kerouac and I was more into Burroughs but we both agreed on Ginsberg. My first webzine, Enterzone, was named partly in homage to Burroughs' "Interzone," and Levi was one of our regular contributors. Another Beat-fan online in those days was Mal Humes, and the three-way dialogue among us in email eventually turned into a mailing list called "antiweb" that still exists.
Bill, to Levi: Levi, can you elaborate on what it is you like about Melville and Moby Dick. Why, for example, did you not get a "beat" tattoo of some sort?
Levi: I really overdosed on the beats as a result of the launch of LitKicks. I finally concluded that I like Kerouac, Corso and some of Ginsberg and that's about it. My devotion to beat literature is way overestimated by others. I like Melville because he tried to capture the totality of existence in the form of the book "Moby Dick". Whether or not he succeeded, I respect him for trying.
Bill, to Xian: I like your book, The Power of Many. I read some reviews of it on Amazon.com and of course, there are mixed opinions. One criticism was that you “used too many personal experiences throughout the book” (Betty Burks). The thing is, I believe that’s one of the secrets of good writing, going from the general to the specific; focusing on something. So I like the fact that you did that.
Xian: Thanks, me too. You can't please everyone. Interestingly, when Levi and I were editing Coffeehouse, we had written these intros / forewords that drew on our personal experiences. I write something about seeing a Meters show at Tramps in New York and making eye contact with the guitarist (Brian Stolz) and having an epiphany about how the stage was being leveled and creators and audiences were becoming (again?) peers. And the publisher objected to the personal POV and told us to make the book less about ourselves and more general. Oh well.
Bill: I would like to hear your comment on the following statement by Mr. A. Pomeroy. He says, “Ten, fifty years from now, a few people will wonder why the internet didn't amount to more; just as today, people wonder why television or radio didn't amount to more than just entertainment, why the telephone didn't amount to more than just people talking about the weather or their day at work.”
Xian: Perhaps. I think more likely 50 years from now the Internet will be so deeply embedded in everything we do that it will be entirely taken for granted. I may think this because I'm reading a book now called Everyware that's about ubiquitous computing.
Bill: I have to add one thing that I really kind of expected to hear in your reply: Telephone and TV are important. People call the fire department, the police, and paramedics on the phone. People call their congressmen. People talk to their relatives from far away. Television debates changed history (Nixon & Kennedy was the first). We saw the Vietnam War, the body bags, the protesters. I think TV is more than just entertainment.
Xian: Which begs the question, what was he expecting from telephones? Of course i am disappointed not to have a jetpack by now, but that is swiftly becoming a cliche.
Bill: Come to think of it, why can't we have jet packs? It doesn't really seem fair. Do you think perhaps Levi Asher has a jet pack that he's not telling anyone about, and that's how he gets around to all those literary events?
Xian: That would explain a lot.
Bill, to Levi: Crumlish and I think you have a jet pack. We could be wrong. We could be right. Either way, I think you need to come clean.
Levi: But Bill, I go to like four literary events a year. I'm hardly the man about town. There is no jet pack. There is a 98 Saturn that needs new tires and an oil change, and that's about all there is.
Xian: Really! I have a 98 Saturn, too!