Don’t Eat That

1.「Plexus, der mit bürgerlichem Namen Gabriel zu heißen scheint, postet seit Juli 2010 Kommentare auf DC’s, dem Blog des Autors Dennis Cooper, einem der bekannten zeitgenössischen Vertreter der transgressive fiction (ein vor allem in der US-amerikanischen Literatur etabliertes Genre, das die Gefahr der Grenzüberschreitung zu seinem Identifikationsmerkmal erklärt – mit dem genießbaren Widerspruch, dass der Leser sicher sein darf, gesellschaftliche Tabus wie sexuelle Gewalt, Inzest, Missbrauch, Kannibalismus, dysfunktionale Familien usw. berührt zu finden, ebenso wie fest mit ästhetischen challenges zu rechnen ist). Plexus stellt sich Cooper und den anderen Lesern und Kommentatoren von DC’s als jemand vor, der von dessen Romanen und Erzählungen so begeistert ist, dass sie den sehnsüchtigen Wunsch in ihm geweckt haben, selber ein „poet“ zu sein: „Dennis! I REALLY want to be a poet more than anything! YES! yes yes yes. ok When i was like 5 6 7 i wrote alot of little things mostly about monsters that made no sense then i would photocopy them and make the bindings out of staples and scotch tape and give them to people like my friends –more like friend—and my parents friends and stuff. My English teachers never really cared for what i wrote haha suprise suprise. what books did you read when you were 15 that blew your mind? Did you read :My Loose Thread: by Dennis Cooper? that blew my fucking brains out bang. do you like being a writer? i mean would you have had it any other way? so like if you could be anything besides a writer like a dream job or some weird fantasy job what would it be? i want to read more of your poetry.“ (Kommentar auf DC’s, August 22, 2010 1:14:00 PM PDT)」

2.「Seit August 2010 veröffentlicht Plexus außerdem selbstverfasste Texte auf seinem eigenen Blog Don’t eat that, während er weiter fortfährt, auf DC’s zu kommentieren. Im Info-Feld von Don’t eat that steht zuerst: „my name is Gabe. i am 18. i am a dumbass.“ Der letzte Satz kurz darauf ersetzt durch: „i wanna be a poet.“ Plexus interagiert mit anderen Mitgliedern der DC’s-Community, aus denen sich auch die aktive, kommentierende Leserschaft seines eigenen Blogs rekrutiert, und er verteilt dabei freimütig Anerkennung („Killer Luka, I LOVE your art. You are amazing“ usw.). Seine ersten Beiträge auf Don’t eat that vom 23. August sind ein Gedicht und ein Dialog, der das eigene Schreiben ironisch zu kommentieren scheint: „ghost: i am alone in the glow. / i need water but i am gonna smoke first / no i gotta piss / the filter of my cigarette is wet and tastes like / looks like you chewed on it again / you need water / looks like your / cigarette was lit anyway / burning a hole in the ashtray.” „fictionalized dialoguette between teacher and student: -your story is just confusing to the reader and you know what confused readers do? (pause) -what? -they stop reading. -i don’t stop reading when i am confused. -i’m sure you do. -no i don’t. -yes you do -no i don’t -yes you do -yes i don’t -no you do. -no you do do. -what? -i don’t like this. -i don’t like this. -stop it. -i love you.“ Neben weiteren Gedichten erscheinen in nahezu täglichen Posts Texte, die zwischen Tagebucheintrag/persönlichen Gedanken und literarischer Erzählung oszillieren – und dabei andeuten, dass diese Oszillation bzw. die Erzeugung von Unentscheidbarkeit Teil einer bewussten Strategie sein könnte. Am Tag, bevor sein eigenes Blog online geht, schreibt Plexus auf DC’s einen Kommentar, der genau dieses Hin- und Herspringen vorführt: „Strange Weekend: Mm we went for some hikes which was nice. then we went swimming or he did mostly and we even had a picnic that involved hummus and sticks made out of bread. we ended up doing acid on saturday night.. so to start i thought he had taken all the beer bottles and pissed in them to fuck with me so i was like: wow your piss really tastes like beer and is even carbonated and so beautiful and it was glowing but it turns out it was just actual liquid beer gold. we rolled around in the rain in the night and there was thunder and mud but i thought it was tar and i was being paved into a city street so i started getting upset and he was firmly saying: CALM DOWN. STAND UP. THIS IS NOT THE CITY. LOOK AT THE TREES. Over and over again ahahaha which actually worked cuz the trees were so amazing and each leaf was exploding with thousands of tiny green deep turqiose explosions. the universe had singled us out. / the trees kept feeling eachother up. Tree Sex. you know that trees in cities don’t have sex. um brian totally started making out with a tree cuz it was moist so i ran in and got blankets so we wore the blankets and thought we were druids or as he kept saying droods droods droods . i think i made out with the ground. just really weird shit was happening i can’t even describe it. it was amazing. we got mud and plants and dead insects (?) all over his cabin and the bed probably bcuz i was jumping on it so it was totally fucked. i woke up on the floor with a bad headache in my mud blanket and covered in towels which he had buried me with at some point. i turned a red towel blue brown with my wet muddy blue hair so now it looks like a Smurf wiped their ass with it. i think he slept in his car cuz there was mud in there too. there was even mud in my mouth but just a little. so today we are dead but cleaned the cabin and left earlyish,. smoked pot in the car so we felt better. i’ll write about this on my blog i think but better maybe. or not cuz i just did write about it. nvrmd.“ (Kommentar auf DC’s, August 22, 2010 1:01:00 PM PDT) In diesem Text präsentiert Plexus sich selbst als jemand, der den Figuren in Coopers literarischen Texten stark ähnelt. Er nimmt kraft seines eigenen Schreibens die Position eines Begehrensobjektes für den Autor Cooper ein, dessen Literatur merklich von der erotischen Faszination an einem bestimmten Typ von Teenager-Jungen bestimmt ist (eine Faszination, die wiederum viele der anderen Kommentatoren auf DC’s teilen). Plexus verwendet das folgende Profilpic: http://www.flickr.com/photos/vigoni-kolloquium_bilder/5640073075/. Zwischen die Texte auf seinem eigenen Blog streut er gelegentlich Fotos wie dieses: http://www.flickr.com/photos/vigoni-kolloquium_bilder/5640073207/.」

3.「Der sprachliche Stil vieler Texte von Plexus lässt offen, wo er die künstlerische Verfremdung und nahezu musikalische Handhabung von Alltags- und Slang-Englisch aufgreift, die für einen Teil der amerikanischen Gegenwartsliteratur (darunter die von Dennis Cooper) kennzeichnend ist, und wo er Alltagssprache spricht bzw. sprechen will. „the trash or the freezer: i am dead without you. her name is Ash and not yours. i call her Ass sometimes. sleep skills kill but thrill less and less these days. do i eat your dog? i am your dog. where is your It at boy? fuck my It but i can’t find it. bury it in the trash or the freezer or the dusk. 197.“ „pedestrian narcissist: he came inside me as dog does when it finally chews its foot free from trap.“ (25 August 2010) Eintragungen, die auf den ersten Blick wie technische Hinweise auf Internet-übliche Probleme wirken, lassen sich genau so als Spiel mit Autor-Identitäten lesen: „thanks: someone hacked my account.“ (26 August 2010) Eine spielt mit dem Format Datum-Titelzeile-Textkörper: „28 August 2010 / this computer is the worst graduation present ever / tonight i am not going the ball.“」

4.「Am 29. August veröffentlicht Plexus auf seinem Blog einen längeren Prosatext mit dem Titel physical education. Wiederum ist unklar, ob bzw. zu welchen Teilen es sich dabei um ein aufgeschriebenes Erlebnis handelt oder um eine Fiktion. Das ‚Thema’ der Erzählung – die destruktive Erotik des Sichschneidens – hat im Kontext von transgressive fiction etwas Klischeehaftes. Indem er sich auf Fotos als emo boy zeigt (u.a. mit ‚blut’-verschmiertem nacktem Oberkörper anlässlich des Halloween Day auf DC’s), tritt Plexus jedoch als Angehöriger einer Modebewegung auf, die solche Klischees lebt – d.h. in ihrer Lebensführung zwischen Authentizität und Selbstinszenierung nicht mehr unterscheidet. „[I] was thinking the piece was too teen angst cliche even though its mostly true. or even too dennis coopery“, schreibt er selber später (Kommentar auf DC’s, September 20, 2010 7:05:00 AM PDT). Physical education erregt unter den Mitgliedern der DC’s-Community vor allem auch wegen seiner erzähltechnischen Qualitäten Aufsehen: die Schlichtheit, Präzision und klangliche Schönheit der Wortwahl, einschließlich einiger unaufdringlicher, geschickt gewählter Metaphern („tapestry of different reds“); die scharfe Endlichkeit der Sätze (Erzählen-Können im klassischen Sinne heiße, so Barthes einmal, Sätze zu beenden verstehen); das Gespür für Rhythmen und die subtile Steuerung eines Flows… So wild die Spekulationen darüber ausfallen, wie stark Gabriel dem Ich-Erzähler seiner Geschichte gleicht, so eindeutig lässt sich offenbar sagen, dass er sehr talentiert ist. „physical education: when i turned 15 in the summer, i started self mutilation. it was clumsy at first like the time when i was little and i slowly closed the door on my finger just to see what it felt like. after a few months, the cutting developed more into a detailed calculated ritual. at the hardware store i got a jumbo package of razors. the cutting happened at night late when everyone was asleep. in the middle of my room on the floor i spread out a garbage bag and then on top :my bleeding towel:. this was a white towel i used to catch and soak up the blood. i used a new clean sharp razor every night. everything had to be quiet. / i took my bedside lamp on the floor with me, opened my legs and shined it on my inner thighs so i could see like it was an operating room. the inside of my left thigh was where i cut with my right hand. i hunched over myself and made 4 quick horizontal cuts then the universe stopped. i held my breath and waited for a millisecond that seemed like a night – always trying to figure out which came first, the blood or the pain. but they just came and it was a flood of sensation and concentration that occupied every part of me so intensely that i didn’t even worry about whether or not i would ever think again. i watched the blood bead up like jewels then trickle and fall as gravity pulled it down onto the towel. the pain would change in waves and burst through me then say shhh and repeat which made me shake. i remember wanting to cry. / soon, i was doing 4 strokes 3 or 5 times a night making twisted Xs out of every other wound. then I cleaned them with rubbing alcohol and covered them with band aids that i had purchased at the drugstore. i put used razors, cotton balls and band aid waste in a trash bag that i kept in my closet. my bleeding towel looked like a tapestry of different reds: the older blood was like rust and the new blood was bright. i hid that in my closet in a bag as well. / after a while i was cutting scars open so they could breath. i made more that were deeper and deeper. i was cutting one night and made 6 slashes. blood. pain but not enough. i think i was crying when i made another cut and something popped deep. i cut through something all the way. i did it i finally cut all the way through my skin and the razor just sat tucked in the wound. the blood poured gushed and i just watched it. this was a slaughter house and i was the butcher and the cow. Everything was Wet and Red. oh fuck i pulled the razor out and pushed a wad of the towel on my thigh. i took offmy t shirt and held that to it. in the movies they always say to put pressure on the wound so i was the paramedic and the dying. i must have put 10 band aids on there but it leaked so i checked the bottom of my feet for blood: none so i hobbled to my desk and stuck scotch tape all over it. then i wrapped toilet paper from the bathroom and ripped the sheet off my bed and wrapped that around it. if i stain my mattress with blood i was finished. i cleaned up trash and hid it, took two benedryl and fell asleep. / in the morning it was pulsing. i investigated the landfill on my thigh. i removed the spotted toilet paper and replaced it with fresh and scotch taped all that. time for school. I wore baggy black jeans. / it was hurting all morning and felt hot and wet. /:what’s wrong Gabe? / :i have a headache. / i forgot that i had P.E. i took my t shirt and shorts from the locker into a stall with me and looked at my wound again. it seemed quiet. so i changed and i think i walked like i had just been raped. / Oh no. Volleyball. i avoided the ball and got yelled at. so i hit the ball then jumped and hit the ball and then i felt it. i ripped it open. the dam broke and it started bleeding and i couldn’t stop it. oh fuck. it soaked through my shorts fast and ran down my thigh. everyone was silent and staring when someone said / :Gabe started his period. / everyone started laughing. / :that or he cut his dick off / :QUIET! the gym echoed. the teacher walked up to me like he was gonna run me over and grabbed my arm and said / :go to the nurses office NOW! / the nurse was confused. she asked what happened and i said i didn’t know but i thought about saying i had been attacked by a dog. she told me to take off my shorts so i did. she looked at my bandages and the blood weeping through. i looked at her like don’t touch them please. she didn’t. / :i am calling your mother. / my mother came and picked me up and the nurse told her she thought i should go to the E.R. in the car she didn’t say anything and i started to wonder if she knew what i had been doing this entire time. the light was red so she looked at my face then my bloody crotch and then my face again. i didn’t look at her. / :what did you do to yourself Gabe? / the E.R. doctor recommended i start seeing a therapist. i got 12 stitches.“」

5.「Zu den Einrichtungen auf DC’s gehört ein in unregelmäßigen Abständen stattfindender „Writers Workshop“ über das Wochenende: An einem Samstag stellt ein/e Autor/in einen kurzen Text oder ein Textfragment vor, an dem sie/er aktuell arbeitet. Die Mitglieder der Blog-Community und spät am Sonntag auch Dennis Cooper versuchen, mit Lob, Kritik und Ratschlägen die weitere Arbeit an dem Text zu unterstützen. Am 18. September erscheint Physical Education im Rahmen eines solchen Workshops – in einer überarbeiteten Fassung, die die ‚Cutting’-Geschichte mit einem zweiten Handlungsstrang (einer Sex-Szene zwischen dem Ich-Erzähler und einem anderen Jungen) verschneidet und durch den Satz „You look like your mother“ kurz vor dem Ende ‚vernäht’: http://denniscooper-theweaklings.blogspot.com/2010_09_18_archive.html. Dass der Text nun eindeutig als literarisches Werk präsentiert wird, spiegelt sich neben dieser ambitionierteren Dramaturgie auch in der formellen Gestaltung: korrekte Groß- und Kleinschreibung; lediglich seine typographische Innovation, die Doppelpunkte am Anfang einer Zeile, die wörtliche Rede wiedergibt, behält Plexus bei. Die zahlreichen, vom Grundton überwiegend positiven bis enthusiastischen Kommentare reichen von kurzen Bemerkungen wie „Great story, Plexus. The interspersed sexual encounter (rape?) helps provide context for the rest of the piece“ bis zu sehr detaillierten Kritiken/Tipps bzgl. technischer Details: „hey, plexus. i really enjoyed this. i guess there are a few things i was wondering about. in the seventh paragraph you use two more or less structurally identical similes back to back, the water/sand one and then the dog/water one, and this read as rhythmically weird to me in a way that made the two water images clash rather than, i don’t know, echo or something. i think the passage might be improved if you could find a way to let those two sentences breathe a little more, if that makes any sense, haha. anyway. what else? oh, the cock/salamander metaphor is amazingly evocative, well done. overall there’s this cool, um, almost strobing effect that happens with the two storylines alternating as quickly and as programmatically as they do. i feel like you might be able to enhance this in the last paragraph by somehow establishing the context–the car ride to the ER with your mom–in a less linear way, since the two subject-verb sentences that begin this section seemed to work against the momentum that the piece had built up for me by then. uh, i hope all this is coherent. by the way, are you the gabriel who friended me on facebook a while back? if so, hey, i’m jared, it’s nice to, um, come this much closer to meeting you.“ Die letzten Zeilen des Kommentars von Dennis Cooper lauten: „Really, Gabe, your talent is really, really something special, and you’ve outdone yourself in this piece, and I hope the wonderful, really considered response your piece has gotten here this weekend helps make that clear to you. I cherish your work, and I’m enormously excited when I think of all the astounding work of yours that’s still to come. Much love and great respect and many thanks to you.“」

6.「Am 2. November 2010 stellt Dennis Cooper dem „p.s.“ , seiner täglichen Interaktion mit den Kommentatoren von DC’s, die folgende Mitteilung voran: „p.s. Hey. There’s something I need to tell you. I’ve debated heavily with myself as to whether I should say this or not, and I decided that telling you is the better of the two unhappy options I have. Between the time I last posted here on Saturday and now, it was discovered that the blog’s d.l. and commenter Plexus aka Gabe is a fake. He doesn’t exist. Someone made him and his story up, using pictures of some unknown boy taken from some unknown place to represent him. There isn’t much else to tell you about this except that the person who perpetrated the lie has admitted to what they did, deleted ‘Gabe’s presence from the internet, and that’s that. Everyone will obviously have their own feelings and reaction to this news. Personally, I find this situation pretty difficult. […] The sad thing is that I thought ‘Gabe’ was so terrific, sympathetic, funny, talented, promising and just kind of a joy. So, on top of the feelings of deep betrayal, I mourn his loss too. It’s a complicated thing. But it bothers me a lot that this blog was one of the places where this fraud was carried out. An atmosphere of trust and welcoming and openness and support is key to what this blog’s commenting/p.s. component is all about. I really don’t like that the blog and you were taken advantage of. I know that if I were to approach the people who gather on this blog warily and with suspicion, it would pretty much ruin this place, and I think I would stop doing the blog if that were the case. And I want the people who hang out on and participate in the blog to feel as trusting of the community here as possible. As far as I know, this is the only occurrence of local fraud we’ve had in the five plus years of the blog’s existence, and that’s pretty good when you think about it, and I don’t see this one breach as a reason to increase security or get paranoid. Still, in the heat of this discovery, I’ll be honest and say I feel strange and confused about the blog at the moment. That will pass and probably at any second, and I’m going to do the p.s. today as best I can because I don’t think altering the way I do things here is the way to go, but my mood is poor on top of my jet lag, and it’s going to be partly a matter of getting through this. Feel free to say whatever you want to say about this situation, and, of course, don’t feel you need to address it at all if it’s not a big deal to you.“」