Please do what you can to get out the word about this homework assignment. I'd like people to be up to speed before I start dissecting the story. Thanks!
I wonder if that kid ever realized it was you. That hindsight. I tried to meet you a couple of times at Powell's but always seem to be just too far back in line. Sad!
I used to valet cars at strips clubs in Dallas. one was a few miles from where the cowboys played and Sundays, Dallas cowboys and visiting players alike would all stream in for drinks and lappy's. you know the old saying "never meet your heroes"? it's so true. there were a few that were cool and tipped well. but for the most part, they all sucked. celebrities came through all the time; lots of A-list names and the actors/musicians that came through were cool. A grand majority of the athletes were just abysmal humans. Not saying meeting Chuck would have ruined it for the kid. But I can imagine the mystique of him not knowing then seeing this is better. That "holy shit" moment when it all clicked for him; like the ending of 'The Usual Suspects' kinda.
There's a strange danger when you meet an author. Personally, I avoid meeting people whose work I like because it -- not a rational thought -- means I'll never meet the characters whom I've grown to love. And that reality makes me hostile to the author.
Mr. P., I had the chance to meet you twice (or three times if we include your zoom tour last year). Your person doesn't interfere with your work, in my mind. You, the person, is essential to you, the work. Plus, don't you know how kind and funny you are?! We're lucky to witness a little bit of that IRL.
This is so true. I feel like meeting Chuck only enhanced my reading experience. I’ve had negative experiences with other authors and it did effect my reading of their work. But that guy was a real asshole. Totally full of himself. My experience with Chuck was that of kindness. He had a genuine interest in speaking with me. A woman in line in front of me during the signing event told me Chuck once sent her mother a care package. I have no doubt it was true. Chuck is the most wonderfully humble person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.
I used to work in entertainment when i was real young and had to learn not to be an overly HIIIII I LOVE YYOUR WORKKKKK person at the start.
Since reeling myself in, my only negative experience has been when Eric Wareheim (of all people) got his Security Guard to punch me in the face for coming up and saying "Thanks for the show" after Tim & Eric's first Aus tour.
You really don't expect that from a guy like that.
Since then I've always pretended not to recognize celebrities and just talked to them about whatever random pop culture thing I'm interested in at the time. It's hard to ruin my ideal of a hero if we're just in a bar laughing about a dumb meme or whatever.
I met you a few years ago at an Illinois reading with Irvine Welsh. Interviewed you for a local; public radio podcast. My wife came along and the two of you hit it off and I thought “You know, if Chuck slept with my wife, I’d be OK with it. I mean, right?”
You were gracious, funny, and truly generous with your time. Also, I ate almost all of your pre-show cheese plate and you said nothing about it. Meeting one of my literary heroes was a smashing success.
Hello Don. That day in Naperville, did you know someone had killed themself in the hotel? The place was so filled with police because they hadn't ruled out murder. A strange vibe.
I found out a bit later. In hindsight, it did place a veil on the evening but I believe it was fully smacked away by you hurling bags of candy and those light-up beach balls.
I can’t stand my sister. I haven’t spoken to her in 9 years. The last time I saw her, I went to her apartment to see my cat who she would later let die. A tiny studio in suburban Massachusetts dominated by sliding glass doors that opened to a dirty parking lot. Her curtains open too wide to ensure privacy. No tv, no desk, no sofa. A twin bed, a bookshelf, a litter box and a massive vibrator lying on the floor not covered by the fallen leaves of bras and panties spread out over everything. How many neighbors had a free show from the parking space ten feet from her bed? How many went out there at night specifically for the girl living alone with two cats, a glass wall and a giant plug-in massager? I I had been born a woman l, would I ride the rush of being watched? Would I be an exhibitionist if I was someone worth looking at?
It makes my skin crawl that I’m related to this person, incapable of empathy and inevitably damaging every person around them. A selfish sex-addict prioritizing drugs over shelter, instant gratification over family and personal spite over protecting the life of an animal.
There are more things we don’t have in common than we do.
Holding my cat for what would be the last time, I looked through the disorganized bookshelf. She hasn’t read any of these. Pristine dust jackets on all the usual chick-lit-whatever-self-help-eat-fuck-pray-me-me-me. At least she only wants to appear to have read them and hasn’t wasted her time.
On the middle shelf, with creased spines and faded Border’s receipts crumpled on the last page; the very same way I mark my own books, sat Invisible Monsters, Fight Club, and Snuff. Haunted was on the floor looking deformed by the front flap of its jacket having been tucked into a page somewhere on the middle, my other bookmarking habit.
Slutty, Narcissistic, Cat-killing, Cunt. We don’t have anything in common.
Does the fact that so many strangers have perused small cross-sections of your brain ever feel isolating? As in, here is Mr. Palahniuk the writer, he wrote my favorite book and I want to take a part of him as a snapshot of that character on the surface. There's probably a threshold somewhere there that is hard to cross, maybe neither the reader nor the writer would actually want to cross it and prefer the link of books to act as an umbilical cord. Like the feeling of being connected to every stranger in a cafe via the coffee. I like that feeling.
Hey Chuck, so happy you did this substack! Your writting changed my life so much! When I read you sending us homework I thought: "Great, Chuck is passing us homework assignments from Project Mayhem!" hahaha Did you consider doing some giveaway for your followers here? I think it would be great!
And let’s not leave out Nike…the original my original holds in her hands or just do it with the brand ? Do you know my own fight club interpretation?...not the Nietzsche way !
I get as much pleasure reading your writing on your writing as I do reading your writing that is bound in books. Everything. All of it, they are stories and you are a master at telling them.
Thank you, Chad. Articulating a skill and communicating it gives me a new level of understanding what I do. And it's a great on-going way to give credit where credit is due, and thank people who've inspired me.
Your life must feel so surreal.
You ❤️
Also ready for the movie quiz 😁
Please do what you can to get out the word about this homework assignment. I'd like people to be up to speed before I start dissecting the story. Thanks!
I can say the movie was well worth watching. Excellent story.
Personally, my favorite part was the whole Chekov’s uterus tension with the pregnant woman.
I have gravitated to your work for almost 20 years, because you make us feel something, but you giving out hope is daunting.
Every character in the Palahniuk canon TRIES, I always think. Maybe not successfully, maybe not for the "right" thing, but they all TRY.
I will always choose the asshole who reaches for something better over the person who stales in their happiness.
I wonder if that kid ever realized it was you. That hindsight. I tried to meet you a couple of times at Powell's but always seem to be just too far back in line. Sad!
I used to valet cars at strips clubs in Dallas. one was a few miles from where the cowboys played and Sundays, Dallas cowboys and visiting players alike would all stream in for drinks and lappy's. you know the old saying "never meet your heroes"? it's so true. there were a few that were cool and tipped well. but for the most part, they all sucked. celebrities came through all the time; lots of A-list names and the actors/musicians that came through were cool. A grand majority of the athletes were just abysmal humans. Not saying meeting Chuck would have ruined it for the kid. But I can imagine the mystique of him not knowing then seeing this is better. That "holy shit" moment when it all clicked for him; like the ending of 'The Usual Suspects' kinda.
There's a strange danger when you meet an author. Personally, I avoid meeting people whose work I like because it -- not a rational thought -- means I'll never meet the characters whom I've grown to love. And that reality makes me hostile to the author.
Mr. P., I had the chance to meet you twice (or three times if we include your zoom tour last year). Your person doesn't interfere with your work, in my mind. You, the person, is essential to you, the work. Plus, don't you know how kind and funny you are?! We're lucky to witness a little bit of that IRL.
This is so true. I feel like meeting Chuck only enhanced my reading experience. I’ve had negative experiences with other authors and it did effect my reading of their work. But that guy was a real asshole. Totally full of himself. My experience with Chuck was that of kindness. He had a genuine interest in speaking with me. A woman in line in front of me during the signing event told me Chuck once sent her mother a care package. I have no doubt it was true. Chuck is the most wonderfully humble person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.
Yup. Live Mr. P. is a'la mode to his work. Makes everything yummier!
I have you snowed! (gotta love those old phrases)
I used to work in entertainment when i was real young and had to learn not to be an overly HIIIII I LOVE YYOUR WORKKKKK person at the start.
Since reeling myself in, my only negative experience has been when Eric Wareheim (of all people) got his Security Guard to punch me in the face for coming up and saying "Thanks for the show" after Tim & Eric's first Aus tour.
You really don't expect that from a guy like that.
Since then I've always pretended not to recognize celebrities and just talked to them about whatever random pop culture thing I'm interested in at the time. It's hard to ruin my ideal of a hero if we're just in a bar laughing about a dumb meme or whatever.
I met you a few years ago at an Illinois reading with Irvine Welsh. Interviewed you for a local; public radio podcast. My wife came along and the two of you hit it off and I thought “You know, if Chuck slept with my wife, I’d be OK with it. I mean, right?”
You were gracious, funny, and truly generous with your time. Also, I ate almost all of your pre-show cheese plate and you said nothing about it. Meeting one of my literary heroes was a smashing success.
Hello Don. That day in Naperville, did you know someone had killed themself in the hotel? The place was so filled with police because they hadn't ruled out murder. A strange vibe.
I found out a bit later. In hindsight, it did place a veil on the evening but I believe it was fully smacked away by you hurling bags of candy and those light-up beach balls.
Don't forget the fabulous giveaways! And the body parts! Lots of body-part-hurling.
Damn, I love throwing stuff at people.
I can’t stand my sister. I haven’t spoken to her in 9 years. The last time I saw her, I went to her apartment to see my cat who she would later let die. A tiny studio in suburban Massachusetts dominated by sliding glass doors that opened to a dirty parking lot. Her curtains open too wide to ensure privacy. No tv, no desk, no sofa. A twin bed, a bookshelf, a litter box and a massive vibrator lying on the floor not covered by the fallen leaves of bras and panties spread out over everything. How many neighbors had a free show from the parking space ten feet from her bed? How many went out there at night specifically for the girl living alone with two cats, a glass wall and a giant plug-in massager? I I had been born a woman l, would I ride the rush of being watched? Would I be an exhibitionist if I was someone worth looking at?
It makes my skin crawl that I’m related to this person, incapable of empathy and inevitably damaging every person around them. A selfish sex-addict prioritizing drugs over shelter, instant gratification over family and personal spite over protecting the life of an animal.
There are more things we don’t have in common than we do.
Holding my cat for what would be the last time, I looked through the disorganized bookshelf. She hasn’t read any of these. Pristine dust jackets on all the usual chick-lit-whatever-self-help-eat-fuck-pray-me-me-me. At least she only wants to appear to have read them and hasn’t wasted her time.
On the middle shelf, with creased spines and faded Border’s receipts crumpled on the last page; the very same way I mark my own books, sat Invisible Monsters, Fight Club, and Snuff. Haunted was on the floor looking deformed by the front flap of its jacket having been tucked into a page somewhere on the middle, my other bookmarking habit.
Slutty, Narcissistic, Cat-killing, Cunt. We don’t have anything in common.
Does the fact that so many strangers have perused small cross-sections of your brain ever feel isolating? As in, here is Mr. Palahniuk the writer, he wrote my favorite book and I want to take a part of him as a snapshot of that character on the surface. There's probably a threshold somewhere there that is hard to cross, maybe neither the reader nor the writer would actually want to cross it and prefer the link of books to act as an umbilical cord. Like the feeling of being connected to every stranger in a cafe via the coffee. I like that feeling.
Chuck, your writing constantly reminds me of Corn-pone Opinions!
Fascinating. Now I'm going to read up on this Twain revisionism. Thank you.
Hey Chuck, so happy you did this substack! Your writting changed my life so much! When I read you sending us homework I thought: "Great, Chuck is passing us homework assignments from Project Mayhem!" hahaha Did you consider doing some giveaway for your followers here? I think it would be great!
You know giveaways are definitely in the plans. I'm not sure what that looks like, but hell, I've only been doing this for three days!
And let’s not leave out Nike…the original my original holds in her hands or just do it with the brand ? Do you know my own fight club interpretation?...not the Nietzsche way !
I think I'm teaching myself editing, writing and deleting shit in these boxes.
Don't self censor! Please, Anthony.
I get as much pleasure reading your writing on your writing as I do reading your writing that is bound in books. Everything. All of it, they are stories and you are a master at telling them.
Thank you, Chad. Articulating a skill and communicating it gives me a new level of understanding what I do. And it's a great on-going way to give credit where credit is due, and thank people who've inspired me.
Anyone else think Mr. P. has no idea what a complete dick he isn't?
I so have you snowed. I am Mr. Dick. I kick dead dogs.
Thank you for doing this valuable if uncouth work on our behalf.
Well.. You need to see this
https://nypost.com/2021/09/22/brian-laundrie-alleged-cryptic-messages-on-pinterest/?utm_source=whinstagram&utm_medium=whig&utm_campaign=wh&utm_content=mnshmr
Whoooooa…. that’s a lot to handle.
A trainer at the gym asked me if I knew "about Gabby." This explains that.
Whaaaaat!! Why am I being dragged into this? Thank you for troubling the rest of my day.
I love this.