INTERVIEWER (A CHARLIE ROSE TYPE): I’M HAPPY TO HAVE BACK ON MY PROGRAM FILM-MAKER JEREMY PHILIP TRIBBY, WITH WHOM WE WILL SPEAK ABOUT HIS LATEST WORK, “CLEAN-UP ON AISLE YOU.” JEREMY, THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE.

JEREMY [Smiling, visibly nervous]: THANK YOU! IT’S REALLY NICE TO BE BACK.

I: NOW, THE LAST TIME YOU WERE HERE, I REMEMBER YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT SOME SORT OF SCUFFLE WITH AN EXECUTIVE ABOUT A FILM TITLE. WAS THAT ABOUT THIS?

J: WELL–

I: [In a stately voice, looking at the camera] THAT IS “CLEAN-UP ON AISLE YOU.”

J: WELL, YEAH, I MEAN, I WOULDN’T REALLY CALL IT A SCUFFLE. THEY WERE ACTUALLY REALLY HELPFUL AND SUPPORTIVE!

I: BUT YOUR FANS WILL FOREVER KNOW THAT THIS WAS ORIGINALLY INTENDED TO BE CALLED “THIS IS WHAT WILL HAPPEN.”

J: [Beaming] WOW, THANK YOU FOR KNOWING THAT!

I: SO, THE PRODUCTION BEGAN WITH A FINANCING PROBLEM.

J: YEAH, WELL, COMING OFF OF “JOB & JEREMIAH” –

I: — WHICH WAS TERRIFIC.

J: OH THANK YOU! YEAH, COMING OFF OF THAT WAS A TIME TO STEP BACK A LITTLE AND SAY, WELL, YOU KNOW… IT’S BEEN SAD WORK, I MEAN YOU GET ENTRENCHED IN IT, AND IT’S WHAT YOU DO EVERY DAY. AND MAYBE IT’S TIME TO MAKE A ROMANTIC COMEDY.

I: [Amused] AND THE STUDIO HAD A PROBLEM WITH THIS! THEY TOLD YOU IT WAS TOO UPBEAT!

J: WELL I WOULDN’T SAY THAT, I MEAN MY WAY OF WRITING HAD CHANGED A LOT, THEY WERE USED TO THESE TOMES I’D HAND IN, THE ENSEMBLE CAST WAS READY TO GO, IT WAS… THEY KIND OF PUT ME ON HOLD FOR A WHILE WITH THIS ONE, BUT IN RETROSPECT IT’S REALLY EASY TO SEE THEY WERE RIGHT. I WAS EMOTIONALLY BURNT OUT.

I: WHERE EXACTLY DID IT GO WRONG?

J: HMM?

I: WHERE DID IT GO WRONG? WHEN DID THINGS START FALLING APART, DOMESTICALLY?

J: [Totally blindsided by the question] I–

I: –I MEAN THE NEWS IS THAT YOUR WIFE — IS SHE YOUR EX-WIFE NOW? — THAT SHE BASICALLY FUCKED ALL OF HOLLYWOOD.

J: WELL THAT TONE IS ACTUALLY KIND OF MISOGYNISTIC AND–

I: –OH NO I DON’T MEAN THAT AT ALL, I JUST MEAN THAT THE STARS WHO HAVE CONFIRMED IT INCLUDE CASEY AFFLECK AND RYAN GOSLING AND DANIEL DAY-LEWIS AND MARION COTILLARD.

[Jeremy removes the microphone attached to his shirt as though to make a dramatic exit from the interview, but gets kinda stuck and just has to sit there looking like an asshole as he fucks with it]

I: THIS IS ALL KIND OF LIKE A METAPHOR FOR YOUR LIFE RIGHT NOW, ISN’T IT.

J: FUCK YOU.

I: FUCK ME, INDEED. [Looking into camera, stately voice] THIS IS JEREMY PHILIP TRIBBY, FALLING APART. THE MOVIE AGAIN IS CALLED “CLEAN-UP ON AISLE YOU.”

[Cameras cut, Jeremy is staring at the interviewer, out of breath with confusion and anger]

I: OH COME ON, THEY’RE BOTH STUPID TITLES.

JEREMY: –Linda Nochlin? Really? Wow. Ok. Wow.

[Interviewer eyes her notes as Jeremy interrupts, then looks back up at him to continue]

I: …Linda Nochlin recently used the word “flaccid” to–

J: –wait, what? What was she, um…

[Jeremy sighs and rubs one eye under his glasses]

I: Take your time.

J: [Indignant] I will, thank you. What was she referring to?

I: You.

J: Right, but, what… I mean, what’s the context?

I: Fair enough.

[The interviewer turns back a page in her notes]

I: First published in “Art Quartery,” referring to your work on Courbet.

J: I had no idea. What did she say?

I: Let’s see. [glancing at notes] Ah.

[The interviewer reaches for one of the two glasses of water at the table and drinks all of it, slowly, pointedly. Jeremy taps his fingers.]

I: “I might say, parenthetically, that in the realm of virulent Courbet fellation, Tribby’s own penis can only be described as flaccid.”

[Pause]

J: [Defeated, removing his glasses and putting them in their case] That sounds made up.

I: Interesting.

J: I mean, come on. Can I see that?

I: No. [returns gaze to notes] You’ve also been described as lazy, a hack, a charlatan, a child, an asshole, a burnout, a has-been, a never-was.

J: That isn’t a question.

I: No, I suppose it isn’t. How does it feel knowing that you’re going to die alone?

[Pause]

J: Why are you doing this? Honestly, if you’re just–

I: –didn’t you set this up?

J: I feel like you’re setting me up, for something that isn’t even–

I: –and I feel like you’re evading the question. Let’s get back to your book.

J: What question? And who even said those things?

I: Does it matter?

J: Yes! Yes, I think it matters very much, everything matters, this matters. Or it matters to me, anyway. Wouldn’t it matter to you?

I: [under breath] Selfish, too.

J: What?

I: Nothing. [Turns to the next page in her notes]

Job, Volume I: Folks, Lamented by Jeremiah (Sunflower River Publications & Recordings)

is being assembled now. monday release. $12 postage paid anywhere in the USA. pictures forthcoming!

speaking of forthcoming: a 128-page trade paperback entitled “A quiet guide to dying alone,” which will see a wide release as soon as I better figure out the nuance of Nevada tax evasion.

also of note;

A Raga Called Jack: The Myth and Ethnomusicology of American Primitive Guitar

is a class I will be teaching with Destiny Preston in the fall at UC Berkeley. it has a stuffy title and celebrates the music of the sorely missed American guitarist Jack Rose. I’m really really really excited.

“I ask you to be loud and vocal supporters of your public servants; don’t be the silent majority. Have high expectations of us. Have high demands of us — I do. But don’t judge us until all the facts are in.” — Michael K. Meehan in his swearing-in as Police Chief of the Berkeley Police Department.

Well, Chief Meehan, because you asked:

1) Fuck you.

2) The facts are in. You sent an officer to a journalist’s home in the middle of the night because you didn’t like what he had to say. Your attempt at spooking and intimidating Doug Oakley and his sleeping family shows your inability and disqualification to serve the public. In the same swearing-in, you stated: “we live in the 21st century, and in the 21st century, we do things differently than we did in the 1800s and 1900s.” If Orwell’s “1984″ was written in the 20th century, what exactly is your vision of the 21st? You attributed your attempt at silencing a journalist to an “error in judgment.” There is a fundamental difference between those who can and those who cannot do what you did — a fundamental difference between those who would and would not refer to it as an “error of judgment,” those who must and must not.

It is not an error of judgment, it is an error of vocation. You are not fit to be a cop, and in the 21st century we don’t stand for this kind of shit in our public servants. Realistically, during and after the investigation by the city, you’ll be put on leave while collecting a paycheck on the backs of honest taxpayers like Doug Oakley. I’d encourage your donating a chunk of that money to the ACLU as a sign of good faith. And since you seem prone to errors in your own judgment, I have some suggestions for your next career, too: have you considered crab fishing, aviation, logging, steel working, coal mining, or perhaps the military the next time we’re in a land war in the jungle? I think these might suit you.

3) Seriously, fuck you and go away.

As ever,
Jeremy Tribby

• an illustration or intervention corresponding to each sentence in harry dean stanton’s monologue in paris, texas. maybe not entirely unlike “bill.”

• make crayola style crayons in colors we can’t see. draw a cool nebula.