Tim Barrus: Censorship at the New York Times
TIM BARRUS: CENSORSHIP AT THE NEW YORK TIMES
Seriously, okay, they get credit. It was one in a million. Have you been to the Casino in Reno. It’s Over. Make these old people go home. I want to see cowboys and horses in Flag. I am a communist. I crave ideas. I crave chaos. I crave a culture war of ideas. Why is identity so bonded to the umbilical chord of What-Do-You-Do. I write books that cannot be published and they rile the Temper’s Flare. This book is more than marketing’s penchant for the superficial milieu. I loved the sex in the battering of two forces where you will agree that a temporary fix to what is an abstraction brought to bear on the construction of the individual that transcends culture. Like oppression and the plague. Six of my books from science fiction had a lot of sex. Sex is, indeed, audacious, and I cannot recall anything I have ever read where the disturbing asks the questions. What does disturbing mean. I am autistic and I do not beg. The condemnation letting loose the marginalized writers from their IVs – setting the same old issues in the same old way, and part of that process is a probe into attachment remaining relevant ready or not. Muscles will win. Digital lives a barren life. A theater of moving shadows where the disconnected (like me) do not sell books. The good ones like this good book are almost always saved by someone. Our best faces forward when confronted with the reality booksellers shred hundreds of thousands of books in America to manipulate the price, check out the dumpsters in the back, and none of this can fly if Amazon resists. It puts brakes that people need to hear on the construction of the Second Self Craving Permission. I do not need the reader’s permission to write. My mom is dead and she hated me, too. Censorship is a blacklist at the NYT.