EVERYDAY PARTICIPATION 2.0
bart plantenga
To refresh your memory: I once wrote a “scandalous” [to whom, you might ask] narrative called A NOVEL OF EVERYDAY PARTICIPATION [Wiggling Wishbone, Autonomedia, 1995] an invitation for readers of a fine magazine interested in reinventing their lives by getting involved in the production of a novel from the ground up. An interesting proposal and a fine service for a reasonable fee in line with “internationally standardized costs for novel & short story characters.” Instead of going to a nightclub or hanging out with losers in a bar you would be invited to enter the under-construction interior of a novel. The “h” would be a chair the “T” would serve as a table, & the “0” as hot tub. All that was required to participate was showing up & committing to the project in the form of a few cash donations, and being an intriguing character full of desire and secrets. The story, upon publication, managed to fetch some interesting nibbles and curious folks. But Preferred to lay in wait for the big fish. & that Big Fish finally bit one fine day. The “Flame Wars”
The Original Call: A new novel by renowned, so-called author, bart plantenga, is currently offering a unique opportunity to enter the well-furnished scenery of an actual New York novel.
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ALL AESTHETIC DECISIONS & LAST EDIT RIGHTS REMAIN THE AUTHOR’S. FULL REFUND AVAILABLE IF NOT SATISFIED. FORFEITURE OF ALL REFUND RIGHTS AFTER TEXT IS SENT TO PUBLISHER.
Bart Plantenga Fiction Empowerment Services Inc. (B.P.F.E.S.I.)
_________________
I had other pitches: Turn tepid reality into torrid fantasy. Make a harrowing escape that leaves one and all in a giddy sweat. …
And then came the collision in the ether between the possible and the cynical and the emergence of Flaming Culture, dissing one and all, but then at a safe, anonymous remove.
Flaming in internet terminology basically means posting personal attacks in reaction to a post. This may escalate into a flame war ona forum, thread, or message boards where the personal attacks and insults of one or more involved parties [trolls or ALDC – angry little dirt child, BFB bitch face bozo] are met with a counterpuch by the attacked and ultimately gets out of hand enough to distract from the theme being discusse on the post or thread and degrades the value of the original – like a brawl at a football game. Topics are hijacked by the flamers, and , in effect, the earnestness of posters is defmaed. If chaos ensues the site administrator may simply be forced to delete the violators comments or block/ban him/her or, if worst comes to worst, just shut down the entire thread or forum. To be flamed is to not only be insulted but be violated – Strangers pissing on your couch
Some flame wars would bleed or nomad over into email, where the battle royale went on privately via a barrage of email exchanges.
I was probably involved in my share of them – we all were. the internet was like learning a new language, a new ethos. The user’s manual had not been written yet. Looking back, we were all provoked by [seemingly willful] misunderstandings that were further magnified by self-esteem issues, and by the expressive limitations of online texting that saw very little in the way of expressing irony, nuance, subtlety, facial expressions, body tics and so one thing led to another.
When you abandon your screen ays and confront a living soul face to face in real time you often get a sneaky feeling that you’ve just been had, that some of your soul has been sucked out forever and those moments can never be retrieved
i participated in a full-up flame war. You don’t even feel the escalation; it’s like undertow at the beach. I had posted a short story that originally appeared in my book ___ . Some considered the story prophetic others thought it pathetic. Once online there was room to respond, sign on, sign up, negotiate payment. Here was my story and i was the carnie running the spookhouse attraction, sitting outside trying to lure people in.
“Novel of Everyday Participation” was originally published in Wiggling Wishbone (Autonomedia) as public personal empowerment message and was republished in translation in the Belgian magazine, Yang. It was uploaded onto the Internet in 2003.
The internet responses it received were very interesting in that the story itself, dating from 1993, predates the Truman Show and countless television reality shows this story seems to in some way herald. A few of the more interesting responses warrant an update of the original.
In the course of its online life, I was contacted by a number of interested parties. One woman from Croatia offered her services as receptionist-wife and a man from Kansas thought I would send a limousine to drive him to my Midtown Manhattan offices. Arthur Hoggett, a New Zealand sheep farmer, for instance, ordered a slimmed-down version – by some 100 pounds – of himself so that he could attain his “inner Pierce Brosnan minus half a sheep.” This may require some radical literary surgery but no liposuction, or “stomach stapling,” which carry with it certain unsavory risk factors. But, as he noted, “I’m tired of being mistaken by my sheep for one of them.” This tailor-made profile will require some modest supplemental costs, which he agreed to in principle. My New Zealand correspondent was informed that he should NOT assume that this is just another dating service – or Hollywood career move. Sadly, he suffered a mild stroke in 2006 and apologized for not being able to participate in the story.
That some have since referred to it in blogs as recently as 2010 as a “hip virtual scene, avant la lettre – safe, not smokey or loud, but still hip – not Sims, not Second Life but something less rote, more speculative and undetermined” is certainly a pleasant surprise for me.
I have promised an online meeting between Mr. Hoggett and the other major respondent, Annie Blanche Banks, food placement model and bachelor party theme-stripper from Texas [California-born] who – by the looks of her jpeg, if this is indeed her – is quite the looker, but you never know. It could be anyone’s photo.
“I would like to do the business to Mr. Hoggett,” she writes. I will certainly keep that in mind as I write the treatment and continue to monitor Mr. Hoggett’s return to health. If we can agree on some basic issues, they will be sent the novel mauscript for final approval. Suggestions by friends that I advertise Fleabag Funk Punk as “safe sex in the post-jet age” is something I am currently considering.
But, somewhere along this merry, convivial way, one correspondent who approached me via the Internet, went off the shallow end real quick as he exploded in a long torrent of moralistic invective. He was very, very upset that I would charge money to portray someone in a book. Had I thought of the comeback at the time I would have asked whether he was upset when you take your family down to the mall to have your holiday portrait taken. However, I just couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he was so disproportionately upset until I realized that he realized that he thought that … well let’s just let him speak for himself [typos in original]:
_________________
Date: Tue, 07 Mar 2003 18:46:52 -0700
From: Gastone D. Means <Meansno.27@***.com> *
Subject: oh my god what puerile trash
Dear Sir,
Save the world’s trees for somebody who actually has something to say! Childish, Inane, Self-Bloated — these are just a few ofd the words that come to mind. Please, acknowledge your obvious lack of talent now, before it’s too late. I’ve read more gripping death notices.
Sincerely,
Concerned
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Date: Tue, 07 Mar 2003 21:33:51
Subject: anonymity is the easy way
Dear Concerned,
You’re just like the kid who shoots a spit wad and then quickly ducks under his desk. from what i can gather, you are quite an angry or under-appreciated fellow somewhere in the middle of the vast empty parking lot of america. if you really need to be taken seriously then stand up and lemme have a good look at you. life is a horrible thing to squander but maybe its too late for you…
_________________
Date: Tue, 07 Mar 2003 22:14:12
Subject: Re: anonymity is the easy way
You need to lighten up my good man. Why read the sputum contrived within your busy little head, this designer brain-candy when it’s so hard to catch up on the many unread works of true genius? I merely happened upon your web page and noted that you cater to the sick tastes of modern capitalism by actually writing novels to order — that was all I needed to know. No real artist would prostitute his or her gift so wantonly.
As for you assessment of me, you got it mostly wrong, although you’re correct, I do work for a newspaper and on days when news is slow I often find myself browsing the Internet. When something strikes my sensibilities I may rip off a quick, perhaps ribald, definitely ribbing, e-mail; similar indeed to your apt spitball analogy. But otherwise, I am an extremely lucky/happy man, content with my life. I get to Europe a couple times a year, publish a short story every so often with no thought of monetary compensation; I’m old enough to live smart, young enough to pull, and as you’ll no doubt attest I’m full of P&V. As for you, you seem to take yourself far too seriously — a bit unsure and overly sensitive about yourself and the stuff you produce perhaps???
Thanks for writing,
Gastone D. Means
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Date: Wed, 08 Mar 2003 06:21:13
Subject: Re: anonymity is the easy way
hello Gastone my dear gadfly,
Sheesh, YOU need to lighten up my good man. i only got pulled into the huff of your bluff. YOU came on like the proverbial belligerent drunk in a glassware store. i don’t take myself as seriously as i should and i take you way too seriously. get some help or find some mammal that might find this kind of peptic grunting charming!
>> Why read designer brain-candy when it’s so hard to catch up on the many unread works of true genius?
so why bother me? oh, i can guess – you are on a mission to clear the earth of my kind of scum.
>> I merely happened upon your web page and noted that you cater to the sick tastes of modern capitalism by actually writing novels to order — that was all I needed to know. No real artist would prostitute his or her gift so wantonly.
wrong, my short story collection was published by a reputable alternative literature publisher and i think its pretty funny you calling me a capitalist. it is not often an american working for a [straight?] newspaper uses capitalist as a pejorative. if one were to measure my writerly rate of pay it would hardly come out to $.005 / hour – hardly what i would call the hi road to capitalism.
And, may i ask what fair newspaper could that be that isn’t caught up in the wonderful web of capitalism. just about every newspaper in america is owned by 1 of 4 or 5 multimedia corps.
>> I get to Europe a couple times a year, publish a short story every so often with no thought of monetary compensation; I’m old enough to live smart.
Ooh, that really sounds pure. but now, i guess you must be getting along to all the thousands of novelists who actually LIVE off their writing of novels – better get started writing your denunciations of writers who happen to earn a living off their writing – you can start with don delillo, thomas pynchon, joyce carol oates, marg. atwood, rick moody, woody cullmibluff, gunther grass … you better get started, there’s a lot out there…
>> As for you, you seem to take yourself far too seriously — a bit unsure and overly sensitive about yourself and the stuff you produce perhaps???
i am only unsure of whether you’d be more uneasy if i were to ignore you or respond to you. the only thing i take serious is this kind of scattershot harangue of mental flatulence which is aimed at a me you do not even know.
sincerity guaranteed,
_________________
Date: Wed, 08 Mar 2003 10:10:11
Subject: Re: enough
Boo Hoo, just when the love affair was heating up you want to call it quits. Ah well, you know what they say about cyber connections? As far as I know, none of the novelists you mentioned ever advertised to include the purchaser as a character in their work. Living off writing is fine; constructing art to suit the needs of the highest bidder is pure pornography. I have no mission — I’m surprised you don’t get more mail such as mine: Your website [at that time just an outdated page on the old WFMU website] is out there for the world to see. Surely I am not the only one that despises the crass commercialism of art that your site offers. I can communicate to more people via the “straight” news. Rome wasn’t sacked in a day after all. If you find my correspondence haranguing, I suggest you remain in the bucolic lowlands of northern Europe…You’re far too sensitive to last in the tough world of real life. Ta Ta…
Gastone D. Means
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Date: Wed, 08 Mar 2003 13:10:23
Subject: Re: Re: enough
Oh SORRY! i forgot, you serious newspaper types don’t get irony or satire! wow, were you snowed or what – it was conceptual – hypothetical! – man! But hey, i won’t tell anyone. Man, you are really the first who didn’t GET it!
>> I have no mission — I’m surprised you don’t get more mail such as mine: Your website is out there for the world to see.
You are really a lot dumber than you give yourself credit for – take a bow. For one, most people have more manners than your snarling dog on a short leash in a small backyard personality. i’m sorry, insulting someone on the first date is just not the kind of come on that works anymore.
>> I can communicate to more people via the “straight” news.
yea, i bet you can write about anything you want and can then expect yr words to be placed next to any ad for any old used car lot or pet cemetery you like! i bet you can write about either the democratic candidate or the republican. And, don’t forget, you were snowed – you were the first kid on the block to not GET the story, man!!
>> If you find my correspondence haranguing, I suggest you remain in the bucolic lowlands of northern Europe…
remember yr the one that threw the tantrums. Hey, look up “lampoon” or “in jest” or “laughingstock”.
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Date: Thu, 09 Mar 2003 14:14:27
Subject: Unaffectedly bewildered
I know when I’m being snowed, Sprout. Don’t try and save face with me. You pander; end of story. You’re one to talk about not catching on to satire — you practically tied your panties in a knot over my first e-mail.
Drink a Budweiser for me,
Gastone D. Means
_________________
Date: Thu, 09 Mar 2003 18:41:41
Subject: the newsboy’s got new clothes
Dear Gas,
you are a clueless wonder. you can squirm by any other wiggle but you are still a worm who got upset by something that is satire, man. here’s a quote a friend recently sent i thot you might like it:
“Are you a newspaper man?”
“No, I’m a real man.”
from Chafed Elbows by Robert Downey (Sr.)
don’t write back unless you have no cat to kick any more. don’t forget – you missed the fact that the piece you got upset about is satire – hyp-oh-oh-thetical! look it up. i suppose you woulda got upset by jonathan swift’s MODEST PROPOSAL back then too when he urged parents to eat their young. the early ranter gets caught in the snare.
_________________
Date: Thu, 09 Mar 2003 21:09:00
Subject: Sehr Rot…
I’m man enuff to admit when I’m wrong: After your last email I re-visited your site and must admit it is very apparantly satirical. On my initial visit I was not interested enuff to pay such close attention. However, after reading excerpts, I’m just as convinced of your pie-in-the-sky mentality as ever.
Touche,
Gastone
BTW: I have lived homeless and unemployed in New Orleans, Oakland and Berkeley; I’ve worked cleaning toilets in San Francisco, as a stripper in Detroit and as a dealer in Vegas. I have never taken lightly the air I breathe, but I know the relative nature of minusculity.
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Date: Thu, 09 Mar 2003 21:09:00
Subject: Sehr Rot…
Dear Gas,
You seem very upset. ‘the least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows.’ P.G. Wodehouse.
Kisses,
_________________
Date: Thu, 09 Mar 2003 21:29:04
Subject: ‘fraid O’ da nooze, whatta shame
English fag to tell me about upset! Ha! Upset? You think that was upset? You’ve been hanging around flaccid northern Europe way too long. Might I sugest a trip to Rome, where at least some Euros exist who know how to live. Drink a bottle of Frascati and realize that bloodless existence is no life at all. “Get yourself laid for Chrissake,” to quote some good old American horse sense. If my little pokes at you qualifiy as upset it’s been too long since you really partied. No doubt you’ve been too busy discussing post-modern pseudo sexual psychoses within the Ivory Tower.
Please…I wrote a comical jibe after looking at your website for about 90 seconds. Little talentless Sprouts don’t make me upset, but they do make me laugh. Do you really think there was any emotional investment? Like I said originally, I’ve read more gripping death notices. Besides didn’t I just write to say “Touche, ya got me?”
You my little northern lilly white brother are the one who got upset. Sounds like the tiny barb worked its way into your skin and still bothers you. Forgive me for working it deeper, but you make it so fun I just can’t stop.
Didjya know that Swift is generally considered one of the world’s first modern journalists? (Why do the mediocre always snivel behind the protective shield of true geniuses?) Maybe you could pass that gem from the mind of Downey (now there’s a real deep thinker) on to folks like DeFoe, Twain, Heine, Hopkinson, Steele, Cobbett, Dickens, Thompson, Didion, Wolfe, Capote, Talese, yada yada yada.
Whatchya gonna do now little Sprout-boy? No amount of puny attempts to insult me will turn you into the talented writer you wish you were. You will remain a mediocre wannabee reliant on tired cliches and poor shock value. Me, I’ll remain a happy homey that loves twisting barbs into the spotty flesh of dispossessed psycho slag like you. You didn’t think you you were the only one…didjya Joe Buck?
With all my love and mirth,
Gastone
_________________
Date: Thu, 09 Mar 2003 22:39:07
Subject: Subject: get some sleep
>> site and must admit it is very apparantly satirical. On my initial visit I was not interested enuff to pay such close attention.
Say no more – please – ‘not interested enuf to pay attn’ i mean, then why bother? oh my goodness this large dog on a short leash in a small back yard just won’t shut up.
um re: yr past – write a blues song man and sing it. oh, i really like you best when you 1. spew indignant over something you didn’t feel like really reading and 2. then figure out my whole life for me from a 90-second peek at a few pages of fictional text – yr amazing, thanx. please get some sleep you’ve got a long day of snarling tomorrow. enuf.
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Date: Fri, 10 Mar 2003 07:19:18
Subject: The winnuh by TKO
I notice you only respond to what you want. Selective ain’t chyuh? Thanx 4 de last laff.
Good-bye, good riddance and good luck,
The Lithe and Airy Cyber Sprite (As a firm believer in the Lord, Faith to me is daring the soul to go beyond what the eyes refuse to see – give it up, your talentless.)
_________________
And finally I listened to my partner and never responded with my carefully composed comeback: “Faith is an adamant refusal to admit the reality of what the eyes and the rest of the senses have clearly already verified.”
You know what these blazing flame wars felt like back in the fresh-faced days when it was still more thrill than burden to receive emails at all and correspondents had to negotiate email’s incapacity to express nuances – cynicism, sarcasm, and black humor. So statements like “Don’t you get it? I was only kidding!!” were all too common and friendships went up in smoke in their wake.
The flame wars exhausted the involved correspondents with both claiming victory, both feeling defeated, neither admitting to the latter. You felt dirty, dumb and violated afterwards. The above interaction [which really happened!] definitely reflected the tenor of emails at the time.
I gave up seeking moral retribution or any closure with Gastone. But I always wondered and then years later, out of pure idle curiosity, I decided to search the Internet for this guy’s name and, lo and behold, the guy is – or was – indeed a reporter for a reputable paper in the American Southwest.
In fact, I came across an Associated Press article reposted on the internet: “Reporter Gaston Means Fired Over Holster Kidnap Story,” August 21, 2005. The AP story reported that the Phoenix Citizen-Tribune fired a reporter who was paid $25,000 for collaborating with the Weekly Tattle on the Jenny Holster kidnap story because he had misled his primary employer, the Citizen-Tribune, about his involvement in the series of stories the Weekly Tattle published on the case.
Was this really the same Gaston(e) D. Means, my Gastone? to answer that I engaged in some further research and I was stunned; it was him – I think. To be sure I was actually reading about something that happened to someone I “knew” I developed the following timeline:
- April 15: Jennifer Holster was abducted from her Cornville Ranch home, 20 miles south of Sedona, sparking a nationwide search.
- April 21: Six days after Holster’s kidnapping, Gastone Means, while working for the Citizen-Tribune, approached local police officers who offered Means an “official” account of the kidnapping that he took at face value. The story involved a purported Holster family diary [a diary Means later claimed to have in his possession] detailing tales of sexual slavery, sexual abuse and wild gay parties involving not only adult members of the Holster family but the 15-year-old Jennifer Holster and unnamed other minors. Some unnamed sources claim the police intentionally avoided the most obvious suspects in an effort to settle a score with the family, which had been critical of police performance in the past.
- April 24: Means then met with editor Hollis Brown of the Weekly Tattle, with whom he negotiated the sale of details of the story for a reported $25,000 over a meal of fried chicken and Miller Beer.
- April 25: Meanwhile, countless national broadcast media sought Means’s insight. He was considered “the foremost expert on the case” and became a frequent guest on local and network talk shows and news programs including on NPR, CNN, Fox, and MSNBC, where he offered his assessments during which, terms such as “unnamed sources,” and “sources close to the investigation” were never questioned by the host stations as the feeding frenzy for more scandalous details escalated.
- May 1: The Weekly Tattle published its story under the headline “Phoenix Police: Secret Diary Entries Reveal Local Sex Ring.” It included the salacious allegations leaked to Means by unnamed police sources about the wealthy cattle-ranching Holster family as well as purported quotes from the diaries. Furthermore, there were rumors of “bizarre, decadent, gay sex romps” and sadomasochism involving minors, Jennifer’s father and two uncles. Some of the details were so lurid that vendors refused to carry the offending issue of the Tattle.
- August 12: Jennifer was found safe and two suspects, David Aaron Copperfield, a known petty criminal and Wanda Way, a form addict and sex worker, who lived together, were taken into police custody and charged with Holster’s kidnapping. The influential Holster clan hired Washington attorney Derek Pell to investigate why leads offered by family members that accused Copperfield and Way at the very beginning of the investigation were ignored. Pell’s investigations led him from the kidnapping to the Tattle to Means.
- August 14: Means met with editor John Harry James and admitted providing the Tattle with nothing more than a “map with some circles and arrows,” in hindsight, effectively lying about the extent and nature of the information he had provided. But Tattle sources informed the Tribune that Means had actually provided many hours worth of details, some of which eventually were seen as too “speculative, salacious and unfounded” even for the Tattle. Tribune spokespeople were shocked to hear the allegations against one of their own.
- August 15: Holster lawyer Pell settled with the Tattle, which offered a formal, public apology for publishing false information. The Tattle removed the story from its website and agreed to an undisclosed out-of-court settlement. The Tattle further reiterated that Means had indeed been their primary source for the most controversial aspects of the abduction stories.
- August 18: Means, who has denied any culpability up until now, was forced to admit he provided the Tattle with more than just a “map” when confronted by the newspaper’s lawyers who possessed tapes of the restaurant negotiations between the Tattle and Means where he openly bragged about the “incendiary details of the sex scandal” and that he “possessed Holster family journals detailing scandalous activities” then “named his price; originally he wanted $50,000” for the information, Brown added. They eventually agreed to $25,000.
- August 19: To avoid being sued by the Holster family, Means admitted to embellishing details supplied by local law enforcement sources who manufactured their own self-serving theories in efforts to humiliate the Holster family in retaliation for Holster criticism of local police investigations in the past. As part of the deal, he agreed to turn over the names of his anonymous police sources to Pell. Means’s testimony was then handed over to the US State Attorney General who promised an investigation of possible police involvement in the scandal.
- August 21: In the wake of the allegations and Means’ own testimony, editor James fired Means for “violating newsroom ethical guidelines and using the information he gathered while on the Tribune payroll” and selling it “without permission of his editors.” In a reaction released to the public, Means refers to his editors as “true know-nothing lightweights.”
- August 24: Chuck John Manson, CEO of NewsProduction Inc., which owns the Tribune, met with Tribune staff and announced that violations of ethics policies have given him no alternative but to demand the resignation of editor James. Manson later offered a full apology to the Holster family who are contemplating relocating to their New Mexico compound. The county and town officials, including Sedona mayor Phillip Diss, have promised a thorough investigation of police “Deep Throat” activities, which may yet lead to civil and criminal suits against the involved officers.
Means’ stories led police authorities, who were unaware that fellow officers had supplied “prejudicial, unsubstantiated, and questionable rumors that it was a family affair” to Means, on a three-state, wild goose chase as they pursued leads detailed in the tabloid story and away from the pair eventually arrested for the crime, who had originally been named in early interviews shortly after the abduction. This no doubt hindered the investigation and needlessly prolonged Jennifer Holster’s time in captivity.
- August 24: In a written statement from an undisclosed location, Means claimed he had always planned to “give the $25,000 to the CMEC charity,” even though he himself was no longer in possession of any more than $3000 of the total.” He reflected “I can’t physically round up the full amount, so I guess all of this makes me sound pretty lame.”
- September 22: A spokesperson for the International Media Enhancement Agency of Hollywood, Florida, admitted that Means had indeed approached them about pursuing a multi-media deal involving television consultancy, book and film rights. The spokesman, however, would not say whether this offer was ever seriously entertained by MEA.
- November 10, 2011 [6 years later]: My requests for an interview left on Means’s last known home phone number were not immediately returned. Subsequent attempts to reach him days later revealed that the number had been disconnected but I still spoke into the receiver, whispering simply “childish, inane, pure pornographic, crass commercialism” and hung up gently.
I have reread the Means’ tale more than a few times but every time I do I come away just as dumbstruck as when I first started digging into Gastone’s past. When I describe it to my family, it is as if I am describing the plot of a BBC detective series where I may have dozed off and missed essential details. I am simply left speechless, without a punchline or illuminating ah-ha sense of resolution as if the story is just a teaser for next season’s opening episode.
* Some of the details – the names and locations, for instance – have been changed or obscured to spare both the innocent and guilty, but the essential tale is all too true.
The original story “Novel of Everyday Participation” originally appeared in Wiggling Wishbone, Autonomedia, 1995. The subsequent chronicle plus the original story appeared in Angry Old Man, 2019. Alas, the magazine no longer exists & so I decided to resurrect it.
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