Kendall F. Person, AKA The Public Blogger – follower number 2


I’m so happy & grateful that I’ve reached out to KP at the time and manner that I have. We’ve been in constant communication ever since and I look forward to being an extra set of hands pushing The Neighborhood up, up, and up to where this place is destined to be!

This is Dominic Jones speaking to you from, Now That You Can Hear Me.

Originally posted on Shenanigans in the Office:

ImageAt first glance Kendall F. Person is the epitome of renaissance man. The kind of man who might move in on a girl you’re interested in at a party, steal her attention away with his witty repartee and still manage to successfully invite you to see the latest cool band at a private gig in a New York loft apartment the following weekend. In these circumstances you’d really have no choice but to go along and may even feel compelled to congratulate the girl on her immaculate taste in male company.  He really does appear to be THAT engaging and knowledgeable.  Just take a look at his über-popular blog:

Being new to this blogging game we can only bask in the glory of what’s contained therein and feel a warm contentment inside at the knowledge that the likes of Kendall F. Person and Stephanie Eusebi (nutritionist and follower…

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Writing for free.


Those who know great literature when they see it are the women and men whose spirits have passed through these slowly decaying bodies over and over again, crafting a never ending story as we go along. You and I my friend have a spirit such as this.

Originally posted on Calle Nine:


Poverty and literature have always been emaciated bedfellows. The trouble writing spawns can take the form of anything from wasted years with miserable, underpaid day jobs to fatal doses of hubris and sleep deprivation. Perversely, real misery is often thought to be an integral rite of passage for serious artists, which can be a lethal misconception. If it’s any good it must be suffered for, or so the fable goes. Here’s Melville at sea, Rimbaud the vagabond, Kafka the clerk, Joyce the cheat, Faulkner the postman, Bolaño the drifter. All of them illustrious masculine myths: the stories certain writers tell themselves when they doubt the mundane sacrifices they choose to inflict upon themselves.

The digital realm has certainly complicated the ritual of this self-infliction. A recent article in the Guardian highlights the dwindling advances paid by publishers struggling in the ebook era with a predictable gasp of apocalypticism. Meanwhile…

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The Capgras Delusion story idea

Inspired by The Capgras Delusion to write a short story or chapter about a character who suffers from this psychiatric disorder; however, uses it as a power in some way. The emotional hook is that it is caused by a brain lesion which gives him major headaches. The power goes stronger in exchange for his life force.

“The Capgras delusion (or Capgras syndrome) (pron: kăh′grah IPA:/ka·’grɑ:/)[1] is a disorder in which a person holds a delusion that a friend, spouse, parent, or other close family member has been replaced by an identical-looking impostor. The Capgras delusion is classified as a delusional misidentification syndrome, a class of delusional beliefs that involves the misidentification of people, places, or objects (usually not in conjunction).[2] It can occur in acute, transient, or chronic forms. Cases in which patients hold the belief that time has been “warped” or “substituted” have also been reported.[3]

The delusion most commonly occurs in patients diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, but has also been seen in patients suffering from brain injury[4] and dementia.[5] It presents often in individuals with a neurodegenerative disease, particularly at an older age.[6] It has also been reported as occurring in association with diabetes, hypothyroidism and migraine attacks.[7] In one isolated case, the Capgras delusion was temporarily induced in a healthy subject by the drug ketamine.[8] It occurs more frequently in females, with a female:male ratio of 3:2.[9]

The information gathered from studying people with the Capgras delusion has important theoretical implications for understanding face perception and neuroanatomy in both healthy and unhealthy individuals.[2] It also poses some interesting epistemological questions about the nature of identity and belief.[10]

The Capgras delusion is named after Joseph Capgras (1873–1950), a French psychiatrist who first described the disorder in 1923 in his paper co-authored by Reboul-Lachaux,[11] on the case of a French woman, “Mme M.,” who complained that corresponding “doubles” had taken the places of her husband and other people she knew.[4] Capgras and Reboul-Lachaux first called the syndrome “l’illusion des sosies”, which can be translated literally as “the illusion of ‘doubles’…”[12]

The Capgras syndrome was initially considered a purely psychiatric disorder, the delusion of a double seen as symptomatic of schizophrenia, and purely a female disorder (though we now know this not to be the case[13]) often noted as a symptom of hysteria. Most of the proposed explanations initially following that of Capgras and Reboul-Lachaux were psychoanalytical in nature. It was not until the 1980s that attention was turned to the usually co-existing organic brain lesions originally thought to be essentially unrelated or accidental. Today the Capgras syndrome is understood as a neurological disorder, in which the delusion primarily results from organic brain lesions or degeneration.[14]“

From Source

Moby Dick; or, The Whale by Herman Melville (1851) quotes

I’m finally reading this book! I find it to be quite exhilarating in comparison to all of the other authors and great american classics that I’ve read. This one has been one that I’ve heard so much about but have yet to actually endeavor myself with. Now that I have, and for class at that, I want to fully immerse myself into it and have a great experience with it. I will stockpile all of the quotes that I find to like from the book here in this post and do with them as I please for my all of my transcribing pleasures and delights.

The first of which, since I started doing this at chapter 5 is “They say that men who have seen the world, hereby become quite at ease in manner, quite self-possessed in company.”

This made me think of myself, for it has always been my inner dream to travel the world and converse with the natives and locals of each and every country. I wondered after I read it, if I would fall into that position of a traveled man myself becoming self-possessed.

Chapter six: “So omnipotent is art;”

Chapter eight: “No, thought I, there must be some sober reason for this thing; furthermore, it must symbolise something unseen.”

Chapter 32 “Cetology”: “exceptions might be taken to the name bestowed upon this whale, on the ground of its indistinctness. For we are all killers, on land and on sea; Bonapartes and Sharks included.”

Chapter 41: “declaring Moby Dick not only ubiquitous, but immortal (for immortality is but ubiquity in time);”

Chapter 41: “But vain to popularize profundities, and all truth is profound.”

ch.42: “Though bodily unharmed, it uttered cries, as some king’s ghost in supernatural distress.”

consternation: a sudden, alarming amazement or dread that results in utter confusion or dismay.

monomania: an inordinate or obsessive zeal for or interest in a single thing,idea, subject, or the like.


I will participate in this next year when I’m not enrolled in college !!!

Originally posted on Official Blog:

All you fellow writers out there know… tell anyone, anyone at all… the taxi driver, a sales clerk, your grandfather, what you do for a living and 50% of the time you will get  a version of the following: “A writer, huh? You know, I always thought I had a novel in me.” The other 50% of the time, you will get a variation of this response:  “I have always felt my life story would make a great book. I need to write that down soon.”

And who is to say that some of these people DON’T actually have a book inside them? (Well, we are pretty sure the gum-chomping girl at the Abercrombie does not, but then again, this is a real thing in the world.) During the month of November, you can tell those would-be writers, and perhaps yourself, to stop talking about it and really do it.

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Are You with the Banned?


This makes for a writers great study material.

Originally posted on Official Blog:

Celebrating Banned Books Week,

September 30th-October 6th

Banned Books Week is currently celebrating its 30th anniversary! “Celebrating the freedom to read,” this annual event aims to raise awareness for the works of literature that are frequently challenged by and even banned from communities across the country.

Did you know that some of the best works of all time, and very often the ones you’ll have studied in school, have at one time or another been censored from the public? Did you know that the practice of censorship in literature still goes on today?

Yup, somewhere out there, a blinkered individual could actually be pondering at this very moment the dangers of a mind raised on an “occultist” story like Bridge to Terabithia, while someone of the same mindset argues that the bildungsroman The Perks of Being a Wallflower is “unsuited to a teenage audience.” Seriously.

And it’s not all

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I pass by a graveyard, riding public transportation to my destination at the present, whilst catching a glimpse of a man kneeling at a tombstone with two officials standing behind him… waiting. I wonder about the context of his visitation while he speaks thus to the rock engraved Liza Mari 1972-2012; her epitaph reads: Flower

There is always much to much to think about. One thought enters, fighting, while another flees from your remembrance, defeated. Down there, do you ever think about me? Poor flower, you’ve lost all of your luster. Now–now you’re not even desired by bees! I am left only with the residue of your pollen on my hands; not blood, as they believe. I’d shed a tear for you if it could be discerned from this autumnal rain. Or ease this guilt, doubling my pain. ‘Til next year — flower.

He rises with his hands clasped tightly around his hat. The two men start towards him as the bus reaches a point where the scene becomes just another memory.