(Okay, okay, so most of them have only been asked once.)

These are actual questions people have asked me over the years, mostly via e-mail or in online forums, but a few in personal conversation, modified a bit via generalization and/or my propensity toward reading my own motives into other people's words.

Your stories sound as if they are (at least partly) true. Are they?

Do you need a proofreader? It seems that some of your commas are misplaced.

How do you justify your existence?

Do you really expect people to believe that you're this cool person you pretend to be?

You appear, based upon your writings, to be without morals or religious conviction. What, if anything, do you believe in?

You don't actually consider some of this stuff you write poetry, do you?

Why don't you publish a picture of yourself so we can see what you look like?

How old are you, really?

Are you really a Christian?

If [some of] your novels [fragments of which appear on this website] have been published, why are there such obvious mistakes in them?

I have a question. A lot of the time I can never tell if you're writing about yourself or someone else.

How is it fair that you get to sit at home every day while everyone else has to go to work?

When do you use gifs and when do you use jpgs?

Why do you hate the cold so much?

Do you really think that anyone cares about this stuff you're writing about?

I don't understand why you call this website a novel. Is there something I'm missing?

What does LYHF mean?

If everything you say is a lie, then why should we even read what you write?

It seems your use of semi-colons [sic] has increased of late.

I wonder if your definition of transference isn't different than Freuds [sic].

You are an asshole. Why don't you just shut up?

Your bio says you live in postmodern seclusion. What is that?

What are you now, politically holy? AND
You act so superior. What do you think you are, some kind of political guru?

How can you say my existence is an illusion? I KNOW I'm very real. I think therefore I am.

'Big Black Rubber Dildo' is at best a sterotypical [sic] statement. Maybe it is even racist. You should be ashamed of yourself.

Your writing is getting much better lately.

Why do you use so many parentheses and brackets. There [sic] distracting and disturbing.

How can you claim 'fair use' when fail to demonstrate any kind of logic or scholarly method in your work?

TV is supposed to be capitalized.

Isn't 'Internet' supposed to be capitalized?

Don't you believe in astrology?

What makes you think people are interested in your dreams?

Why does your name appear sometimes as ja and sometimes as jai?

How I got the nickname jai: in the army, there were two Jacksons in my company, so our drill sergeant called us j.a. and r.s. The designation stuck, but everyone began calling me Jay. At first, happy with the initials because it made me sound like a writer, I corrected the mispronunciation. "It's not Jay, it's Jay-ay." But people will insist upon their own sense of the obvious, despite your protests. So I became Jay. When I returned home, I became Joe once again, but I missed the nickname, so I resurrected it, as a pseudonym, this time altering it to jai, just to be different, and because of a scriptural or historical reference I found which I have since lost/forgotten--and because when I use the nickname as a nom de plume, no one knows, in certain specific pieces (unless they know me from my previous work) if I am male or female, a non-distinction that I like, but that is a whole different story. [The lower case letters are significant too, probably having something to do with low self-esteem (a concept I don't really believe in, but, hey, all those psychologists can't be totally wrong, can they?); they feel right. I am small; or, rather, I want to be, but that too is a whole different story.]

Your stories sound as if they are (at least partly) true. Are they?

Yes. Everything I write is the truth. But we have to understand the nature of truth. There are different kinds of truth. First of all, there's literal truth. We all think we know what that is. Then there's psychological truth, which is what is true inside the individual, independent of the "facts" of "reality." This is an inner truth that is different for every person. And finally, fictive truth is that which is universally thematic. So, everything I write is true, even the fiction, which is a greater form of truth than "reality." There is a lot of literal truth woven into the "stories" that I write. But if you want "true" (i.e, literal) truth, go to thoughthistory, my literal truth website. [This used to be a separate website, but is now hosted here.]

Do you need a proofreader? It seems that some of your commas are misplaced.

Yes. I am always looking for proofreaders, and I welcome suggestions on even the most minor of detail. But the misplaced commas are possibly intentional, being an element in my (developing) style. I use them like or instead of parentheses or periods and sometimes to break the line in an odd place, for a poetic effect. I used to be so grammatically formal in my writing, every word or punctuation mark placed exactly correctly according to conventional rules, and then I became a fan of postmodern fiction, and it has influenced me terribly. I love the postmod style, but I am myself torn between two literary worlds--schooled in modernism, yet striving to continually advance (or devolve, some might say. When deconstructionism was at its height, I was a fierce proponent.) As for turning readers off with an unorthodox style, I relish this thought almost as much as I do gaining a larger readership. I have always been a rebel, but a passive-aggressive one, anti-authoritarian at heart, but compliant in nature. Words, especially as they conjure up deviant or discursive images, and oddities of style and usage, are weapons I use to fight complacency, my own and the world's. Readers who can't handle these deviancies are not the audience I want to reach.

How do you justify your existence?

[I know that this was asked vindictively, but I take all inquiries seriously.
Besides, it's a great opportunity to expound a certain philosophy.]

First of all, it's important to note that the very state of existence itself is it's own justification: I exist, therefore I am; nothing beyond this fact is necessary. But I must nevertheless make the attempt to further explain, because I am more than simple existence; I aggrandize myself into more, inflating ego. I write, to justify, my self. It's a pathology I wouldn't be without. That being said--or rather, written--I go on with justification:

The most basic level of my rationale is not, however, writing, but has to do with money (of course; why would I have to explain myself, if not to society, or to that social part of me which demands an explanation?) As long as I have money, as long as each month my net worth increases, I am justified. My books are balanced. I live as I do because I'm able. (I live for the same reason that a dog licks his balls: because he can.) [Sorry. (Not really.)]

Next, and most importantly, to me, to the real me, whatever that is, is that I write: each piece, each phrase, each word is an expression, of the self I am so tenuous to perceive. Writing is my therapy, extant, for its own sake/purpose. But apart from that wishy/feely sentiment (I'm my own best friend, I'm worth it, etc. Stuart Smalley stuff), I become of social value when I publish, or more correctly, when I arrange pieces I write into a kind of order so that people who would read it will think I am making sense: this is not me. I am as I appear in non-organized journals: piecemeal. I am an integral whole which cannot be expressed except in part, and those partial expressions define (in part only) who I am, when I am, a writer. That other part of me, the whole part, is unexpressed. And since it is that part that needs no justification... As long as I have money, and I am writing (books), the rest of me, the part of this world I am, constructing, publishing myself, is justified.

Do you really expect people to believe that you're this cool person you pretend to be?

No.

You appear, based upon your writings, to be without morals or religious conviction. What, if anything, do you believe in?

Let me start by stating what I do not believe in. I do not believe in a mythic Christ who will be the salvation of our planet, as does the questioner, who has proposed to show me "The Way." I do believe, however, in the theological concept of the Christ, not as It is manifest in a person who died as the result of a lame political attempt to save a race of people from Roman domination 2000 years ago, but as It embodies the potential of the human race, actualizing Itself via an evolutionary motive toward a spiritual ideal. According to the questioner, I am not, therefore, a true Christian. Maybe not. I am a Christian in so far as that label does not prevent me from holding any specific spiritual belief, even those that seem to contradict the theology of Christianity. I believe that all religions are true (even what is commonly called Satanism), and that it is only through misinterpretations among the adherents and through dogmatic ritual and non-experiential faith that religions come to a point where they begin to differ and conflict. If true Christians are people who must generate conflict in order to assert their own position, then I am not a Christian. But I believe that a true Christian is someone who accepts all people (even as Jesus did), regardless of their religious affiliation. There is no one "Way." There are many ways, at least as many as there are people in the world. I believe in allowing each and every person the right to decide for him or herself what is right, never condemning anyone for their beliefs. Well...according to that definition, maybe I'm not a true Christian after all. I seem to want to deny the questioner's right to believe as he does. Oh, well. No one's perfect.

You don't actually consider some of this stuff you write poetry, do you?

No. I call it line prose, and as I far as I know, I'm the first person to use that term---although I could be wrong. It may be in the zeitgeist. There's a guy at Fence Magazine (or he used to be) who was doing something similar, poetic essays (or essaic poetry), but he actually considered his work poetry. I love to apply line units to (some of) the prose I write. It makes it so neat, especially when I use lines of nearly equal length.

Why don't you post a picture of yourself so we can see what you look like?

Some day. Maybe. Images are so limiting, so arbitrarily defining. I am so much more than what I look like. When people see me (or anyone), they form opinions. "First impressions are important." "Appearance is everything." These homilies are true, but they should not be. It's so difficult to correct first impressions. I allowed a picture of myself to be placed on the back of my last novel, and now I'm sorry I did. Maybe I chose the wrong picture, but I liked that one. I still do. But it classifies me in a way that may limit me. And it's not really a true rendition of my self. I am so much more (and less) than that photo depicts. (See Via Explanation for more detail.) [A pic has been added here.]

Sometimes you sound like you're an old man, and sometimes I think you're a young guy. (Before I knew you were a guy, I thought you were a woman.) How old are you, really?

I'm ageless, but I feel like I'm only about a hundred.

Are you really a Christian?

No. Not Really. I believe in the (true, historical) teachings of Jesus, but if I have to be labeled, I'd prefer to be called a Zen Buddhist. But even Zen is a bit restricting. Why do we have to create such limitations of potential by labeling ourselves as so much less than what we really are?

If [some of] your novels [fragments of which appear on this website] have been published, why are there such obvious mistakes in them?

The mistakes are leftovers from the files I used to generate hard copies to be sent to my publishers. Corrections were made on (several generations of) galleys, but the original files were never corrected. I'm working (not so) hard to correct these non-corrections.

I have a question. A lot of the time I can never tell if you're writing about yourself or someone else.

That's right. So what's the question?

How is it fair that you get to sit at home every day while everyone else has to go to work?

First of all, not everyone else has to go to work. Some people are as smart (or as lucky) as I am. But there are two very good reasons why I am able not to work: 1) I worked very hard for a lot of years--abnormally hard---in order to save money so that I could live like I do now. 2) I compromise a lot now, still, to be able to live the life I do. I do without a lot of things that other people take for granted. But don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I believe that I am better off for making do with far less than the average (or even the typically poor) American. It's better for my soul to be less involved in the mainstream, less attached to the material world, less possessive of the affluent things of life. Another nice rationalization.

Okay. When DO you use gifs and when do you use jpgs? You posted the question on the 'help' page, but you never gave the answer.

Why do you hate the cold so much? You should appreciate the cold for what it is. If it never got cold, you wouldn't appreciate the warm days.

Oh yes I would. I hate the cold because I am not so active any more. When you're moving around, you're a lot warmer. But I've come to believe that the purpose of the body is to house and support the brain. All of these outdoor people, like skiers and skaters (athletes in general--I can be critical; I used to be one), are throwbacks to a former (lack of) mentality. I suffer from mental arrogance in that I believe that the mind is everything. Bodies evolve in support of the mind. To believe otherwise is to dis God, which initiates evolution so that the evolvers will advance to the realization of what the cosmos is and thus appreciate its complexity. Athletes inhibit evolution by enabling genetic selection along physical lines. The sooner we advance to a body that requires minimal physical maintenance, the better off we'll be as a species. Couch potatoes are the future of the human race. [I hope everyone, especially athletes, understands that this is sarcasm.]

Do you really think that anyone cares about this stuff your [sic] writing about?

For the most part, probably not. What's that got to do with anything?

I don't understand why you call this website a novel. Is there something I'm missing?

You cannot understand this Website by reading a few parts of it. You have to get a sense of the whole, especially by stumbling across significant revelatory parts that attempt to tie it all together. (I can't tell you where they are, I can't point you to them, because they're different for each person.) I'm spinning a web here. You have to see a lot of the individual parts and tie them together with your own sense of consciousness and complexity before you can begin to understand the text I am, creating.

What does LYHF mean?

"Let's You And Him Fight," a game outlined by Eric Berne in Games People Play. Basically, it's a dynamic where a woman, in an attempt to avoid or delay physical intimacy with a man, moves between two men, flirting with each, bringing them together until they end up fighting with each other. Then, she picks the winner or the loser (or neither). It's one of the most common games played between men and women who are in the process of becoming intimately involved.

If everything you say is a lie, then why should we even read what you write?

If everything I say is a lie, and I say 'everything I say is a lie,' then that too must be a lie, which means everything I say must be the truth. But if everything I say is the truth, and I say 'everything I say is a lie,' then that too must be the truth, which means everything I say must be a lie. But if everything I say is... The whole point is you have no idea whether what I say (or what you or anyone else says) is the truth or a lie, and no way of determining the truth in any absolute way. That's why you should read what I write, to learn these kinds of basic truths. (Or are they really lies?)

It seems your use of semi-colons [sic] has increased of late. [A comment taken from a long letter inquiring about the development of my style.]

I used to use semicolons a lot, but then someone convinced me that the practice was passé--of a bygone style. But lately I've been missing them; they link ideas so much better than periods and are quite convenient to the increasingly rambling postmod style I've been developing. Besides, Norman Mailer uses them a lot--or at least he used to.

I wonder if your definition of transference isn't different than Freuds [sic].

I take it that the reader is referring to my use of the word 'transferentially.' Sometimes when I use the word, I don't mean it in the sense that a psychoanalytic transference has occurred, but rather merely that psychic material has been transferred, perhaps via projection or some other mechanism. I should take care to distinguish between definitions of this concept, but I'm too lazy, or life's too short, or... Anyway, transference (or at least countertransference) can sometimes be a sloppy concept, even in the best of psychoanalytic literature. I'd rather leave my definition of transference loose. It's not my purpose to elucidate great ideas of psychology; I'm just trying to convey my personal sense of the world, which gets more nebulous the older I get. This could be an advancement toward wisdom--or it could be the onset of Alzheimer's.

You are an asshole. Why don't you just shut up?

First of all, I've never denied the fact that I'm an asshole. In fact, I freely admitted to it and have done so publicly, even several times in writing. Second, except for committing perjury, slander, libel, copyright violation, and a handful of other obscure laws, I have every right to express myself. Assholes are people too.

Your bio says you live in postmodern seclusion. What is that?

I live alone, rarely go out any more, rarely have visitors, and rarely even see anyone, even my neighbors. But I'm in "close" contact with the postmodern world via tv and the Internet. It's seclusion, but it's not Walden.

What are you now, politically holy? AND
You act so superior. What do you think you are, some kind of political guru?

I'm whatever you feel that it's necessary to project onto me.

How can you say my existence is an illusion? I KNOW I'm very real. I think therefore I am.

I never said that your existence was an illusion. I said that most people perceive existence as an illusion. You are very real. But you don't realize (I assume from your objection) that the "I" you think you are is shared by everyone, that the basic substance of which you are composed is the very same substance of which we are all composed--not a separate collection of particulate substances that are identical with other collections, but the very same (non)substance. Until you understand this and learn to see the universe this way, you are living an illusion. (As am I.)

'Big Black Rubber Dildo' is at best a sterotypical [sic] statement. Maybe it is even racist. You should be ashamed of yourself.

You shouldn't take what I say too seriously. If it's not obscure sarcasm, it just might be simple mirroring of cultural phenomena. What I write is as likely to be someone else's as ideas as my own, as if I'm writing fiction for the purpose of illustrating social issues, using myself as a kind of composite character who represents the various points of view. Okay, maybe you should take what I write seriously; but don't blame me for it. Others are saying this stuff too. Don't blame the messenger. I just report the news, I don't (try to) create it. ['Big black rubber dildo' is a phrase I borrowed from a certain comedian's repetoire.]

Your writing is getting much better lately.

Oh, thank you. But stick around. I'm sure it'll get much worse again.

Why do you use so many parentheses and brackets. There [sic] distracting and disturbing.

I started out, a long time ago, bracketing thoughts in my handwritten journals with the intention of converting them into footnotes when I typed out the material--because actual footnotes were impossible to keep track of and/or refer to while rereading / rewriting. But after a while, as I transitioned into the postmodern era, the brackets became a (self-)recognized aspect of my style, as I realized that in fact this was exactly the way my mind worked, continually distracting itself, in much the same way that most (all?) people think, or so I suspect. So when you complain about (this or any aspect of) my writing style, you complain about my thought processes, which is the same as complaining about me, which is okay; complain away. It's why I'm here, to be the whipping boy. I can take it. Project all you want. Whence doth your distraction and disturbance proceedeth, really?

How can you claim 'fair use' when fail to demonstrate any kind of logic or scholarly method in your work?

So your argument is that I am not entitled to 'fair use' per se, but that my level of scholarship does not rise to the point where 'fair use' may apply, that the law applies only to writers who use 'proper' analytical technics, methodological approaches, and logical argument in the formation of their ideas? Is that what you're saying?

TV is supposed to be capitalized.

I know, but I hate doing what I'm supposed to. And I don't like the way it looks; it breaks up a perfectly smooth line of text. So I've decided to make it a stylistic point of reference for my writing.

Isn't 'Internet' supposed to be capitalized?

Not any more. Wired News changed its protocol in 2004, claiming that 'internet' is no longer a proper name, but has become generic in its usage. And if that's good enough for Wired News, it's good enough for me. (And what is it with these punctuation freaks anyway?)

Don't you believe in astrology? Sometimes I think you do and sometimes I think you don't.

That depends on what you mean by "believe."

If you mean, do I believe that the sun, moon, planets, et al. exert an influence on the human physiology. Yes. I hypothesize thusly. Gravity is a force subtle enough to act gently over vast distances, yet powerful enough to move oceans; and the human body is composed primarily of liquids in which salts in exactly the same proportions as those found in the oceans are suspended.

If you mean, do I believe that said influence has been organized thus far into a comprehensive system whereby it renders correct interpretations after the fact. Possibly; although the art of prediction is much easier when it is done after the predicted event has taken place. Or, to put it another way, hindsight is twenty-twenty.

If you mean, do I believe that with astrology we can predict how said influence will be played out in the realm of Earthly affairs. No. Certainly not with today's technology; and probably no technology will ever exist that will be capable of such predictions--although I leave my mind open to that possibility.

It's like Yogi Berra said: "Prediction is difficult, especially about the future."

[I do, however, try to keep an open mind toward the non-scientific creative pursuits of "intuitive" individuals who may be "in touch" with subtle "forces" that science has of yet not plumbed.]

What makes you think people are interested in your dreams?

I don't think it; but apparently, judging from my stat counter, some people are. It's a pleasant surprise to me. But even if no one were interested, I'd still write them out and publish them. I don't maintain this website for others, I maintain it for myself.