What is Wordsworthing?
Wordsworthing in the purely objective sense is the culmination of a group text by four friends (then three (then four again)) that spans the course of YEARS. In a way, WW is a keyhole view into the world, our world as friends, for the past four years at least. It's like we kept a group diary and now we are allowing people to see new pages, periodically, that we have written and torn out for display. To get farther into the abstract, WW is noticing the umbral dashes trailing the rocks strewn across the evening face of the sidewalk, it's picking out the brassy, "yank yank yank" of a red breasted nuthatch as she calls across the human transportation noise, it's the absolute refutation of Facebook meme happiness and all those who would follow that false idol. It's fucking passion, it's akin to the "WHUMP" of a gasoline fed fire, but one in your soul. It's entering your soon to be lover's apartment for the first time. It's sitting down to a page and beginning. Finally, it is a reason to move today's scheduled suicide to a more convenient time- tomorrow.
What is our Vision for Wordsworthing?
Wordsworthing is not a website or a podcast, not a blog or a magazine. It is a belief that Art (and yes that is a capital A) is worth doing the work, the hard work that can leave you raw and questioning your senses. We believe in the honesty of this work; its absence is a betrayal to which we will not be a party. So we have chosen to launch this enterprise to do the work, to search for others who believe and then to put our fucking backs into it until the Art is uncovered. And then we will give it to the world, without a warning label, and dare all to gaze upon it. Because it is going to hurt you, at least a little.
We've got three branches here at Wordsworthing: Podcast, Blog, and Literary Magazine. Take your pick, they'll all plunge deep into you and leave you feeling around in the dark, looking for your glasses, and wondering if your underwear will be returned to you at a later date.
Current avenues of consumption
Watching: Stranger Things 2
Music: QOTSA
Reading: The Baron in the Trees by Italo Calvino
Drinking: Hot Toddies
What peeps of the world are saying
“I’m thinking that the dead brother from NPR’s Car Talk was reanimated and he brought back Hunter S. Thompson with him and they got together with the other brother from Car Talk, the one who is actually alive, and they gobbled some acid and decided to talk about literature. They were only given one mandate: incorporate the words “fuck” and “shit” as frequently as necessary. Hilarity ensues!”
“If I was a big-ass goddamn phony then I’d listen to this, but since I’m not I won’t waste my time with these phonies because they’re about the goddamn phoniest of phonies I’ve ever heard.”
“We listened to them on the wireless that the tenente kept in the dugout. There were three of us - me, the tenente, and his corporal - and we sat in the lantern light and drank the tannin-rich Italian wine until the corporal got sleepy and turned in for the night. I stayed up drinking and listening with the tenente who chuckled at them in his soft way when he began to get tight. Later, after the Austrians shelled us and killed the tenente, I had the corporal put away the wireless.”
“You guys are awesome.”