flawnt

Have begun to age. I think you know what I am talking about. Went to a coffee shop this morning (they used to be called “Kaffeehäuser” around here and later ”Café”, when French existentialists were more favoured than they are now) to write and realized that young men must have wavy hair that falls fashionably over their eyes and young women must wear hip-high bright red leather boots and look above the heads of men into a murky metrosexual future. Can you guess that I’m mildly depressed? Cranked up the old depresso machine in order to deal with two rejections of a story I thought one of my best. Would I have been able to deal more easily with rejection twenty years ago? – Actually, I don’t think so. I’ve got a lot more resources to bring to the bleak table of “no -thank you” now than I had then. I wore a corduroy jacket, for god’s sake, I listened to Manfred Mann’s Earth Band, I read Camus! Oh yes – and my hair fell all the way down onto my pointy shoes. I was miserable for no reason then – today at least I have a reason: there is no fountain of youth (see below – accompanied by a caption that originally appeared on Metazen Blog).

we don’t talk much about another important effect of metazen the mag, especially for the aging writer: the magazine will keep you eternally young if you read every one of its installments and comment profusely, and positively. in the picture, its editor-in-chief, frank hinton, can be seen standing on the right hand side (the chap with the black cap) holding out his hand to one of the youthful maidens emerging from the fountain. flawnt, a writer also associated with metazen (in ways which are currently being investigated by the Factory of Blind Infants) is pictured on the left, with beard, carrying a middle-aged lady (ms flawnt) off. the “fountain of youth” is a frequent motive in stories of flawnt, who is also rumoured to be an incarnation of the legendary alchemist nicolas flamel.

(photo/caption reposted from metazen blog)