Monday, September 22, 2008

My Cousin, My Gastroenterologist

Imagine Mark Leyner's brain as a blender into which he tosses a few basic ingredients -- science, entertainment, consumer products -- then pauses at the array of buttons on the console.

Chop? Puree? Emulsify? Aw hell, he presses all of them. When the whirring stops, he tastes the resulting psychedelic smoothie:

a scented nuclear warhead manufactured by mcdonnell douglas in collaboration with estee lauder passes overhead, leaving in its wake a light, floral fragrance with a touch of citrus and spice...

Hmm, not bad, he thinks. His finger dips again:

tonight at madison square garden the new york rangers disembowelled the boston bruins' goalie, brought a hibachi onto the ice, roasted his intestines and served them on toast points to the howling hometown fans

Excellent, says Leyner, and pours
the contents of his brain into containers of various sizes. Now for some titles. Let's see...

fugitive from a centrifuge
colonoscope nite

saliva of the fittest

i was an infinitely hot and dense dot

lines composed after inhaling paint thinner
yoo hoo! buzz called out. y'all got any creme de cacao?
in the kingdom of boredom i wear the royal sweatpants

Humming to himself, he packages them up and sends them off to various magazines. Some time later they appear in Esquire, Harper's, Fiction International...