Dear Dust

What happened to the last couple of week’s column?

Amy

 

Dear Amy

Nothing.

 

 

Dear Dust

I heard that at TNB-San Diego you told people you have a new book coming out. Is that true?

Daryl

 

Dear Daryl

It is true. My book comes out next month. I don’t really know why I bother, though. No one wants to read it. Especially me. I’m sick to death of the thing. Possibly the only vocation more worthless than being a novelist is being an advice columnist.

 

 

 

Dear Dust

The rumor is that you have a book coming out. Shit, man, tell me the title and I’ll buy one.

Simona

 

Dear Simona

What difference does it make? You can buy my book, or any one of the other 22,000 books being released next month and achieve essentially the same experience. Here is the basic framework of almost every novel written since The Tale of Genji: A main character (let’s call him Guy, although gender is irrelevant) whines for a chapter or two about the meaninglessness of existence. This whining can take the form of actual first person whining, or it can come in the guise of explosions, gun battles, serial killers, difficult births, cancerous mothers, mean fathers, child abuse, intellectual self-abuse, what have you. Then Guy goes somewhere, although the place is just a vehicle to meet his wacky family or best buddy, or other revealing segment of his past. Then the BAD THING happens, the one that will prop up Guy’s journey, or at least get us to the end of the book. Oh, at that point we will be introduced to GIRL (or other GUY, as the case may be) whom GUY pines for. GUY will continue to pine until the conclusion, even as the BAD THING is resolved around him. The last chapter will leave room for a sequel. The End. $26.99 well spent.

 

 

Dear Dust

What’s the worst thing about America?

Wendy

 

Dear Wendy

The death penalty.

 

 

 

Dear Dust

Okay, if you’re Thomas Pynchon, then answer me this: What is the meaning of America?

Don Mclean

 

Dear Don

Did you know that your DVR/cable box uses almost as much electricity as an average-sized refrigerator? It’s true. When you turn it “off” it does not actually go off, or even into sleep mode. The only thing that turns “off” is the LED display light. So it continues to draw massive amounts of power around the clock–as it is always in “ready” state. The cable companies did this because they knew people would complain if they had to wait for their boxes to load program information every time they turned the box on. Fair enough. But they also decided not to include a switch with a true “sleep” mode because it would have been a little expensive. So, to save that money, they decided it was easier to have a fake sleep, and, in the middle of a 30 year energy crunch, and the destruction of the environment, and the prosecution of two (or three, depending on your definition) oil wars–it was still preferable to pocket the cast instead.

This, Don, is the true meaning of America. Paralyzed by greed, drugged by convenience, ignorant of true suffering, floating in the urine-filled shallows while the rest of the world gets fucked.

 

 

 

Dear Dust

Are you the Pope? And if so, let me be the first to say “Wassup, Ratzenberger!”

Ida

 

Dear Ida

The Pope is, purportedly, God’s hand-picked representative on earth. Further, the transition between Popes is said to be dictated by the supreme being himself. Which means that an anti-Nazi Pope was removed by God six months before Germany invaded Poland, and replaced with a pro-Nazi earthly representative. Which means God was a member of the Thousand Year Reich in good standing. Which means the abuse of children which almost every Pope since has had a hand in both perpetuating–by moving offending and “rehabilitated” priests to unsuspecting parishes instead of excommunicating/prosecuting them–and facilitating, through a continuation of the policy of covering centuries of institutionalized child molestation up, is an extension of The Will of God. Ah, yes. Sins of omission, sins of commission. Sins of the most unforgivable crimes imaginable. Infallibility as crack.

If I were Ratzenberger, I would immediately give all the Catholic Church’s money to children’s charities, soak down the Vatican with lighter fluid, and then light a Cuban cigar.

 

 

Dear Dust

How’s Candy? Why didn’t she come to TNB-San Diego with you? Also, is she really Candida Donadio, your wife and agent? I totally know you’re Thomas Pynchon.

Dana

 

Dear Dana

Shit, I wish Candida Donadio was my wife. I would have gotten a much better deal on my last book. And the fucking publisher might have spent eight cents marketing my new one. Candy, actually, has recently left the home. We are trying a trial separation. Very little of that is your business, however. Although I will say that things took a turn for the worse when I started noticing a marked resemblance between my son and the postman. Coincidence? Perhaps.

Yes, things seem to be falling apart a bit. But at least Fabian is still with me. Every man needs a loyal amanuensis, just as every estranged wife needs the fear of a paternity lawyer slowly roasting both their conscience and soul.

 

 

 

Dear Dust

Do you always have to have the last word?

Rebekka

 

01000100011001010110

000101110010001000000

1010010011001010110001001100

101011010110110101101100001

 

01001001011001100010000001111001011011110111010100100000011000010111001001100101001000000110000101100

0110111010001110101011000010110110001101100011110010010000001110011011100000110010101101110011001000110

10010110111001100111001000000111011001100001011011000111010101100001011000100110110001100101001000000

1110100011010010110110101100101001000000111010001110010011110010110100101101110011001110010000001110100

0110111100100000011101000111001001100001011011100111001101101100011000010111010001100101001000000111

010001101000011010010111001100100000011010010110111001110100011011110010000001110100011001010111100

001110100001000000111011101101000011001010110111000100000011110010110111101110101001000000110001101101

1110111010101101100011001000010000001100010011001010010000001101000011000010111011001101001011011100

11001110010000001110011011001010111100000100000011101110110100101110100011010000010000001111001011011

11011101010111001000100000011101110110100101100110011001010010110000100000011010000111010101110011011

0001001100001011011100110010000101100001000000110111101110010001000000110011101110101011010010110010

00110000101101110011000110110010100100000011000110110111101110101011011100111001101100101011011000110111

101110010001000000110100101101110011100110111010001100101011000010110010000101100001000000111100101101

11101110101001000000110000101110010011001010010000001100101011101100110010101101110001000000110110101

101111011100100110010100100000011001000110111101101111011011010110010101100100001000000111010001101000

0110000101101110001000000100100100101110.

 

 

 

 

Most sincerely,

 

The Dust

 

 

Don’t Ask Me Anything.

I Don’t Want To Hear You Talk Shit. I don’t Care If You’re Vulnerable.

Go ahead, I know it hurts.

It hurts for all of us.


[email protected]

 

All contact info is entirely confidential.

 

Love Dust on Facebook.

Vogue with Fabian on Facebook!

Follow Dust on Twitter.

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J. ANGELUS DUST is not much interested in biography. J. Angelus Dust wants to know where it hurts.

16 responses to “Ask The Dust – Vol. 40”

  1. Joe Daly says:

    Letter 4- disagree
    Letter 5- agree

    Wondering what’s wrong with the Dust. Dust seems a little down in the dumps.

    Dunno if the Dust is a resident of our fair state of California, but if so, perhaps a med marijuana prescription might be in order.

    Hang in there, Dust.

  2. Dana says:

    I would like to point out that although my name is Dana, I have not corresponded with The Dust.

    I agree with Joe Daly. Can the gloom, Dusty. Don’t let it suck you in. Reality is perception.

  3. Greg Olear says:

    1. Candida Donadio is dead; Pinch is now married to Melanie Jackson. Or has he now taken up with Candy? He’s done that before, you know.

    2. Candida Donadio Is Dead is a great title.

    3. Lay off the Pope, man. It’s not like his word is law; any changes he makes to official Chuch policy have to be ratified by the conservative-controlled Cardinals. Oh, wait…never mind…I’m getting him confused with Obama.

    4. Next time, use W.A.S.T.E.

  4. Gloria says:

    I agree, Dust. You’re seeming a little put off this week. Also, I read your column last week, wrote a scintillating and pithy comment (though I can remember neither the contents of the column, nor of my pithy response) and then it disappeared when I hit “post comment.” Was it something I said, Dust?

    Sorry to hear about Candy. And the postman. Good ol’ Fabain, though. Hi Fabian!

  5. Lorna says:

    Awwwww, the Dust needs a hug. Hey man, lighten up. It’s just life.

  6. Paralyzed by greed, drugged by convenience, floating in the urine-filled shallows while the rest of the world gets fucked.

    pretty good analysis, just what i needed to enjoy my morning coffee. where is the shotgun?

  7. Greg Olear says:

    0100010001110101011100110111010000101100000011010000101000001101000010100101010001101000011010010111001100100000011101110
    1101111011101010110110001100100001000000110001001100101001000000110000100100000011001110110111101101111011001000010000001
    1101110110000101111001001000000111010001101111001000000111010001100101011011000110110000100000011001010111011001100101011
    1001001111001011011110110111001100101001000000111011101101000011011110010000001111001011011110111010100100000011100100110
    0101011000010110110001101100011110010010000001100001011100100110010100101100001000000111011101101000011010010110001101101
    0000010000001101001011100110010000001110100011011110010000001110011011000010111100100101100001000000111010001101000011000
    0101110100001000000111100101101111011101010010011101110010011001010010000001000100011011110110111000100000010001000110010
    1010011000110100101101100011011000110111100101110

    • Don Mitchell says:

      Greg, that’s just bullshit. Bullshit, I tell you.

      Here’s a much better comment.

      11110101100
      11111010100

      Sheesh. Next time try hex. No, octal!

      • Greg Olear says:

        I cannot convert your comment. Hmmm.

        • Don Mitchell says:

          That’s because you did text to binary. Excellent call, and excellent comment, also — I didn’t think it was bullshit, really. Probably not the case, but . . . damn, it might be (what you said).

          Mine are numbers. Inked on my skin, actually.

          But: 01000100 01100101 01101110 01101001 01110011 00100000 01001010 01101111 01101000 01101110 01110011 01101111 01101110 00100001 00001101 00001010

  8. Fabian says:

    Hi, I’m Fabian, The Dust’s personal assistant. Thanks for your query Joe Daly! Mr. Dust says:

    Actually, Mr. Dust declines to comment. He says “bring me another glass of merlot!”

  9. pixy says:

    oh wait… dust, is the grumplepants attitude due to your turning 40? column-wise? did you want a laurel and a hearty handshake?

  10. Hank Cherry says:

    Did you know that my second cousin is Frank Stafford. When I got my first communion everyone wanted to come to my house for the deal, because cuz was a real life Cardinal. Then, I find out that he was the Major Penitent in Vatican City. So he’s been working on expunging my spiritual record. You must have known that.

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