Cody > Recent Status Updates

My impending flight to Japan, though not til Monday, is already wreaking havoc on my limbic system. Reading affected. Fuck me—it is a brutal flight already, but the Pacific ain’t looking too pacific this winter.
Remember, I loved you all.

Avenge me!

WHY: Boredom? Work inertia? Entropy? Whatever. It's too long to post here, but attached below I picked MY FAVORITE BOOKS LIST THING of the year. Some were rereads, most not, all topmost of the popmost. Socially, the year was a fucking derailed train. Bookishly? Fantastic. I would gladly swap the two.

Happy New Year, goodwill to all things living, a reliquary for all things not, and SOLIDARITY, MOTHERFUCKERS X

Holidays are fucking terrible for being able to read. ‘‘Tis the season to listen to a lot of horseshit.

Humbug(gery).

Holy shit, I just got a friend request from the MOST gorgeous young creature. She REALLY and obviously is interested in more than books, nudge-nudge. Her neck is also about 4 vertebrae too many, her glasses are hovering over her face, and her body’s bent at an impossible angle. Thank God that AI never happened; I can totally trust my heart! Humanity, YAY!

Someone (cough) seems to have become QUITE the popular Goodreader for women of East Asian or, especially, Central/Eastern European extraction. And they ALL want to have open, immediate private dialogue.AND are so curious about me they even want my bank account numbers! Flattered PINK, femmes de la nuit. 夜晚嘅女人。鍾意你嘅工作.

X

Wait—Is GR axing DM’s because the frequency of ‘women’ fishing for friendships that are just fronts for Only Fans/money? You know, the follow-up DM’d “Hey Cody, I love how big your shelf is; do you like to chat? I do…” shit? Have we become such fragile flowers? Tell Leonid/Nikolai to fuck off. Or, do what I do: accept request, ignore DM. Fuck that—I’m never going to scrutinize YOUR legitimacy.

Hey! Just announced: the 2025 Winners of Shit I’ll Never Read contest. Runners-up, too.

Winner—Fiction: The United States Constitution

Being the fantastickal and tragical masterpiece of 13 yr olds fucking.

This is what happens when you commit to doing a thing.

Will true love conquer all?!?

No more personal messages. Why? I have met some incredible people over my decade here, and often our friendships were enabled by our ability to have conversation at length w/out audience. Really GOOD fucking people, each I likely never would've known a fraction as well on a human/non-avatar level. That's the point, isn't it; to further decenter the 'I' of GR for the utility of commerce? THANK YOU ALL. We had a time.

Am I the only person that hates reading dreams as narrative device—no, reading dreams for any reason? They read so boring. I’ve never understood the impulse beyond their obviousness. True, I don’t care about my own dreams. Fuck Freud.
RIP Mani X

Thank Christ. Game back on. Who’s gonna win the war? Love a mystery…

Interrupted by work. I fucking hate even having two books ‘reading now’ or whatever the fuck it’s called on here—currently reading. That’s it. Makes me feel, dunno, like a piece of meat. Ok. Be back after quickie hookup with old flame, Don DeLillo. Prick. This is great thus far.

Ridiculous as it sounds, I’m really not in the mood for this. Have two refresh memory by Thursday for work, and just spaced it til now. Cue the Elvis v Hitler showdown.

Because no one gives a shit, which is doubtlessly an indicator of positive mental health, I’m rereading the First Quarto. This is also known as The Long One/The Basement Tapes.

Fuck me if I’m going to scrounge through the 1,745,000 editions of Shakespeare’s work on this sumbitch. As the guy from Avon said, “Make the font larger on the apo, ye assholes of Amazon.” ‘Course, his context was very, very different—tragically….

Jesus, Dick 3 looks eerily like Michael Corleone. Someone get eyes on Moe Green and Johnny Ola. And bring Al Neri in here now, for fucksakes.

YAY! I finally caught up on my backlog of book write-up bullshit! While I know this means nothing to you (it shouldn't), it's hugely emancipatory for me in that I can now die without guilt over the bunches of loose, stray slack for my understudy to braid into cohesion.

Bottomline: I do my own braiding (inc. but not limited to: French plaits, cornrows, Teutonic pigtails, and much more!)

Game resumed, ex post Pynchōs.

Well, here goes. What a late gift. X to TRP

Momentary pause for what will almost certainly be the end of an era.

I’ll never understand how you guys juggle multiple books at the same time. All respect, to each their own. Maybe it’s OCD on my part, but I feel tugged between two books, unmoored until shelved. ‘I’m loving this BUT HAVE TO GET BACK before I die!!!’

Pathetic. That’s the word.

Anyone else having trouble posting reviews using the app? Going on 12-hrs now of error message. Thanks! X

Aw, shit—things just keep on getting better. Godspeed, Redford. A River Runs Through It is still a filmic Xanax of bliss, for me. Thanks for the escape hatches.

Hey, look at that—my next book pushes me into 4 digits. I’m sure EVERYONE in letters is poised, teeth resting on the bit, in mute agony, wondering what book 1000 will be.

Here’s to the next thousand. You’re not too bad, you (yes, YOU). You know that, right? Thank you for letting me steal from your shelves and admire your brains. X

RIP Brent Hinds, you irascible virtuosic beautiful sonofabitch. X

“What was going on behind the scenes in my inner life during this tour, which was so exuberant and electric and vibrant. It just comes from like the most infectiously joyful, wild, dramatic place I was in in my life. And so that effervescence has come through on this record. And like, as you said, as bangers.”

T. Swift, clarifying…everything.

8.14.77–Love into the æther, JM. X

Trying something different. Look at me, all contempo and shit—

Rereading this w a very different standard than former disposition. Which is to say, none.

Goddam. I'm at a total loss. RIP, Brian. "Love & Mercy," indeed. I'll leave this to Mr. Cale:

Mr. Wilson (1975):

I believe you Mr. Wilson
I believe you anyway
And I'm always thinking of you
When I hear your music play

And you know it's true
That Wales is not like California in any way
And when I listen to your music
You're still thousands of miles away...

California wine tastes fine--