Almost forgot

I almost forgot to mention that I finished editing the YA novel I've written with Elina. Now only some polishing and then to the publishers - again. This must be the fifth time when it goes out. (Nothing compared to Loren Estleman's The Oklahoma Punk: it was rejected over 160 times.)

The title was changed: from Kokkisotatyttö/The Cook Wars Girl to Elämää tylsempi juttu/Worse Than Life.

James Sallis's Drive

Finished Drive by James Sallis last night. It was my first Sallis, but won't be the last, as I liked this quite a bit, even though there was some superficiality to it, especially in the end when one of the characters starts to speak about Borges and Cervantes. Okay, he's a screenwriter, but even that granted, it sounded a bit overimposed to me. I was also quite tired last night when I was reading the book and it came to as no surprise that I didn't understand everything. I'll read it again some of these days (or years).

But Sallis's style is great: very terse, very hardboiled, yet warm and affectionate at the same time. The plot could've been more original, as some people have complained, but I don't think so, since Sallis gives us only glimpses of the plot and switches back and forth in time quite freely (yet making almost all of it quite fluent). It's a case of style over story (not matter), and Sallis pulls it off with ease.

A negative Amazon reviewer says this:

"Something else also bothered me about this book. I felt like I had read this story before. I was right. There's a book called The Company She Keeps by Georgia Durante. It's a true life story published in 1998 of a woman who drove getaway cars for the Mob who later became a stunt driver. The Company She Keeps is also 456 pages of true life experiences including domestic abuse and celebrity fame. If you like reading about action, adventure and inspiration then The Company She Keeps by Georgia Durante is the book for you."

I know nothing about Durante's book, but I don't think it's forbidden to use true stories as a base for novels or other fiction.

(I read the Harcourt paperback reprint, the picture on top is the original edition from Poisoned Pen.)

Some work done after a bad start

I finished the first version of my sword-and-sorcery story I mentioned a while back. I sent it to my friend Jukkahoo to read and give first impressions, mainly on can I publish it in Adventure Stories that's coming out some time before Christmas (or slightly after that).

I'm listening to the Mutant Disco collection I found in the library. Snuky Tate's He's the Groove (from 1979) is a near-excellent piece - actually almost-perfect music with its driving riff and bass line. I also like immensely Ron Rogers's two pieces on the album, especially Naughty Boy the chorus of which just won't stop pounding in my head. (It's just that it seems that Rogers was later in T'Pau which I immensely hated in the late eighties.)

I'm a... er.. what am I?

Some sort of wuzzy nuthead or something to that effect. (I don't know exactly what 'wuzzy' means, but it sort of fits in.) I fucking missed the train just about an hour ago. I was going to Tampere to teach and fucking missed the train! I made it to the station just in time to see the train leave.

Well, here's what happened. I was at the movie archive last night (checking out Robert Bresson's Le diauble propablement or something like that; Devil, Perhaps just might be its English title) and read e-mails at 23.00 or something. I wrote a lengthy and slightly agitated message to a friend of mine who had something negative to say about my book on history of cinema that came out last year. I shouldn't've gotten so angry about it, because even though I read several pages of James Sallis's great Drive I couldn't get to sleep. And I knew it was to be only six hours of sleep. I just rolled around with my eyes closed and thought mainly about my coming teaching gig. For some reason I felt I hadn't done every possible thing for it.

At 03.13 Kauto woke up. I don't know what happened to him - maybe he saw a bad dream. But he just couldn't get back to sleep. We hushed and lulled him for goddamn two hours! I could've killed couple of neighbours for taking a friggin' shower at 04.30 in the friggin' morning - they, for one, kept Kauto awake. At 05.28 or something like that he finally fell asleep.

I knew I couldn't make it if I woke up at 07.00 as I'd promised myself, with only 1,5 hours of decent sleep. I switched the alarm clock to 08.30 thinking I could make it to the later train and still be on time to start the course (which is, by the way, about writing movie reviews*). It was still very hard to get up at 08.30 and I was seriously thinking I'd call in sick. But then I pulled myself together and got up and went to eat. So did Kauto and Elina.

As usual, it took too long for us to get Kauto in shape to take to the zoo.. oops, I mean daycare, and when I finally made it to shower, I noticed that I had something like 14 minutes before the train leaves. (We live just next to the station.) I showered and shaved like a maniac and could've made it - if I hadn't fucking brushed my teeth! I had already my clothes on, had packed the bags, etc., and then out of the blue comes this bright idea to brush my teeth! Well, okay, I did it in a second, but it made me to miss the green lights and I had to wait for the morning traffic to get by. As I said earlier, I made it to platform just in time to see the train some 50 meters away.

When I got back, I checked the busses. Not a help. I tried to phone all the people at the university, but couldn't reach anybody. The usual e-mail address didn't work (of course it didn't!) and I had to use my Hotmail account. When I finally reached someone, they had heard about my misdemeanor and it was decided that the show.. er, I mean, the lecture was cancelled for today and I'd start the whole thing next week.

But now, how the hell am I gonna get something done today? I'm agitated, irritated, tired, bored and in an adrenaline hangover. And hungry, too. (I've been on a friggin' Atkins diet for some days. It bores my eyes out, but I'm destined to lose some kilos of my daddy tummy. They all got in within the last year. Next I'm gonna eat some eggs.)

* Isn't it said that if you can't do art, you become a critic, and if you can't become a critic, you'll have to teach it? It's been at least seven years when I've written an actual movie review. Let's not count the scribbles in this here blog. They are not me at my best. And definitely this day is not me at my best.

Edit: Having been mostly on my back all day, I decided it was "a fuckin' loser" that I was after. But hey, Sallis's Drive is great. Let me get back on that one later.

Poetry

Huonot runot ovat maailman selitys,
antakaa minulle kuppi käteen, niin kerron kaiken ja jätän kertomatta oleellisen,
valehtelut on jo aikoja sitten hoidettu niin että jäljelle jäi vain hengitys, sikarin tuhka,
savu, minä olen nähnyt tämän ennenkin luikertelevan runoihini,
minulla on ollut aiemminkin nämä samat näyt,
tuhkat, munat, tuhkamunat, siittämättömyys, maailmamme selitys,

antakaa meille vauvoja, antakaa meille mitä tahansa,
mitä tahansa ettei meidän tarvitse enää kulkea kumarassa maailman alla,
siltojen alla, pienet ihmiset, voi raukkoja,
suuret ihmiset, voittajan näköiset, luuserit,

kankaita kuljettavat hävittäjät, laivat, upseerit, herkät merimiehet, tatuoinnit perseissään,
peräreiässä, huumeiden salakuljettajat, muovipusseja sisään tunkiessaan ihminen eniten rakastaa itseään,

kuinka tämän vielä saisi järjestykseen,
sataa tai ei sada, ei se ole ihan se ja sama, maailma voi peittyä veteen:
lumeen, härmään, räkään, pyhään ulostukseen,
suusta tulevaan loistavaan puhuntaan,
akti menee päästä sisään, toisesta ulos, tulee jos on tullakseen,

laivat on nimetty näin ja näin,
tuosta tuonne ja takaisin, minulle on aina riittänyt se että olen saanut todeta riittämättömyyteni,
minulla on ollut ennenkin nämä samat ongelmat,
nämä samat puut, samat vadelmat, odelmat, aaluvat,
nimet, etunimet, sukunimet, harvinaiset, tavalliset, vaatimattomat, keskinkertaiset:
minä minun minuuteni ja minän minuudet.

***

Sataa, olen märkä, kuin olisin altaaseen hypännyt,
vaate kiiltää, minä kiillän sisältä,
olen matkannut maailman rajoille, ammattimaisesti,
olen professio, minusta revitään tietueita,
kaiken maailman tiedekunnat ja tietokannat (lienevät samaa kantaa, mistä minä tiedän,
etymologia on minulle vain harrastus: maailman selvittäminen on samaa kuin kantaisi tuskaa harteillaan,
ystäviensä, koko maailman, tuntemattomien ihmisten, joiden nimiä ei tiedä)
ovat vielä viimeiset palat pistelleet,
kakkulapio jäi pöydälle,
kilahti rajusti metallista alustaa vasten,
kirskunta, raavinta, oletusarvoja vastaan tehty oksennuksen kaltainen toimenpide,
kuka avasi oven, oli myös seinää vasten,
pukumiehet ovat lakanneet todistelemasta itselleen minkäänlaisia arvoja.

Oops! I did it again

I forgot to mention in my earlier post that I also had some nice chats (and a good pizza!) with my friend, bookseller extraordinaire, Pasi Louhimies from Libris, Tampere. We also had a visitor during the weekend, a very nice young lady from Helsinki, blogger extraordinaire. Her presence, however, had nothing to do with the book fair, even though - I think I can reveal this without much harm - she works in the publishing industry.

On another note: I'm so ashamed since my credit card at Stockmann was cancelled! I hadn't paid the bills (it was only slightly over 200 euros, but nevertheless) and now I have to cut my credit card in half and post it to them. How embarrassing, how humiliating...

At the Turku Book Fair

1. First, the very unprofessionally produced exhibition of the West Coast pulp fiction writers. I took most of the stuff to the place by bike and I took them away by bike - in the goddamnest rain I've seen this whole year! I was soaking when I'd ridden some 200 meters. I'd packed the books quite well and none got damaged - at least not thoroughly, that is. The exhibition was nice, but not a success. Ah well, we didn't pay anything for the site. I'd brought a nice sixties type writer to the exhibition and hacked away a page of a hardboiled crime story, with the hero being first doublecrossed by a gun-wielding dame and then being attacked by a horde of Chinese killers! My friend, Sami Myllymäki, continued the story at the site, but then the machine broke down!

2. Then the bars. I was drinking on Thursday with my journalist and book-making friend Ville Hänninen and a local SF fandom hero, Pasi Karppanen. We had nice time talking nonsense up to 02.00. I was again drinking last night, Saturday, that is, and had equally nice time: met some old friends I hadn't seen for a long, long time, may have made myself a deal on a book, got some nice ladies irritated by talking absolute nonsense, saw some celeb writers, such as Virpi Hämeen-Anttila and Anna-Leena Härkönen (who was just leaving with his boyfriend, Riku Korhonen, as I entered the bar; too bad since I would've liked to chat with Riku for a while), listened to boring stuff a certain Turku-based intellectual free-lance journalist was babbling, made a promise to give my VHS tape of the film version of Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar to a friend of mine, etc. etc. The usual bar stuff.

3. The actual book fair. I was only at one panel and a marginal one at that, about the current state of Finnish pulp fiction writing. We had Pirkko Arhippa, a very nice lady who's been writing crime and romance since 1968, and Boris Hurtta, the leading Finnish pulpster now working (albeit doing most of his stuff on fanzines and self-publications), with us (Harri Kumpulainen, who some of you know under his Harri Erkki alias, was the chairman) and we talked a bit over 30 minutes. I met most of my author and publishing colleagues at the bar, not at the fair, with my friend Tapani Bagge being the most notable exception. Thanks for the books!

4. I bought some paperbacks from a Turku seller, with some vintage American paperbacks in the bunch. I may talk about these later on.

5. We had a short business discussion on the crime paperback line I'm going to edit. It seems now that it will hit the newstands some time next year! Yee-haa!

6. Now I'm going to shut this machine down and start reading James Sallis's Drive and I hope y'all do the same!

PS. On the left there's a vintage Turku paperback from 1947: Riku Rauta's aka Aake Jermo's Luodinreikä röntgenkuvassa/A Bullet Hole in an X-Ray. Jermo was working in a Turku newspaper at the time and later on he became a rather well-known journalist.

The busy, busy world

Sorry, no updates. Been busy. Will be busy. Let's see again, say, next Friday.

I've been compiling an exhibition of the pulp fiction writers of the West Coast of Finland. The grand opening is at the Turku Book Fair next Friday!

Kaikki Turun kirjamessuille katsomaan Länsirannikon pulp -näyttelyä! (Sori, en muista osastoa enkä jaksa hakea linkkiä messukeskuksen sivuilta...)

Wonderful day at work

I've been so busy today I can't help but wonder! What an amazing day! Now, let's take a look at what I've done:

1. Kauto woke us up at presumably 7.30. (I'd been dreaming for at least an hour that it's 8.05.)

2. I took Kauto to daycare at 9.15 and got back home at 9.30. Read the morning paper and drank some more tea. Read the morning paper's weekly supplement (called Nyt). Looked at some other papers the mail brought. Wondered about the student union newspaper's (where I used to work) headlines. They look too small to me. Took a shit.

3. Opened up the computer at presumably 10.15.

4. Wrote some poems. They turned out pretty bad.

5. Answered the phone. I'll be going to radio to talk about - the movie archive's series that starts next Monday, and not about what a great non-fiction writer I truly am.

6. Translated half a page of a story by JA Konrath for the forth-coming issue of Isku.

7. Wrote a page (or maybe two) for a sword-and-sorcery story I've been thinking about for quite a while. It's situated in Finland in the early 11th century. It turned out to be a horror story. This is strictly hobby writing, but I'll maybe publish this in a magazine called Seikkailukertomuksia/Adventure Stories (it's just so embarrasing to admit that I do mags only because I get my own stories in quite easily).

8. Looked up some stuff in the web on ancient Finnish gods for the story. Stumbled on a comment in which someone says that lots of the Finnish gods came originally from Atlantis.

9. Made my blog round. (Or, walked the blog beat.) Watched Terrill Lankford's ten-minute prologue to Michael Connelly's Echo Park. I didn't think it was very good, but not bad either. Michael Connelly said to me once, when I interviewed him during his visit to Finland, that he thinks Harry Bosch should be played by Donald Sutherland. (Maybe in his younger days.)

10. Then I read the e-mails and answered them. Some work-related exchange with some British authors. Ate lunch with Elina at 12.00. Next I'm going to take a shower. At some point of the morning I asked Elina where I've got this notion that I can do this much non-profit work.

I Was a Teenage Hannibal For FBI

Check this out: it's about Thomas Harris's laziness to come up with titles for his books.

More new poems

Meillä on vallankumous ulkona, kotona kaduilla,
antiikin pylväät ohjenuorat aurinko matkalla kohti kohtua,
kunnes viimein päädymme taivaaseen, meille ojennetaan taivas,
osuus siitä edes, osuus markkinaraosta,
vuohet, ne ovat mainioita, oletteko kuulleet siitäkin, joka söi varpaita,
kukko ei käskien laula eikä kana munien,
olen joskus ennen muinoin ollut tuota mieltä,
nyt riittänee vain jos sanon, että menneet ovat menneitä,
anna arpisten haavojen olla,
muistojen toistuvuus on haavoistamme suurimpia,
meille tajutaan antaa murusia,
murusia suuremmasta ja pienemmästä kakusta,
kuinka me muutoin pystyisimme elämään täällä erämaassa,
jossa kukaan ei auta tänään ketään eikä kukaan puhu,
auringosta kukista pikkulapsista,
etanat on tehty mätänemään,
kaikkien turvallisuus kaikkoaa viimeistään yhdeksäs päivä joulukuuta,
viime vuonna ainakin kävi niin,
maailmanloppu ja poterot, jotka kaivoimme.

Pystyisinkö tiivistämään,
sanomaan kaiken oleellisen:
mies kävelee kadulla, sydän.

Onko mahdollista, onko luultavaa,
että vielä kerran pystyisimme sanomaan ei,
onko sietämätöntä,
onko mahdollista, mahdotonta, mielikuvituksetonta, järjetöntä, delirant,
että vielä sanoisimme mitä haluamme, mitä toivomme, mitä emme toivo,
mitä olemme jättäneet jälkeemme,
mitä tulemme kaikkoamaan,
parhaimmillaan tuhansittain asioita, loputtomiin,
olemme jo luopuneet kaikesta,
meillä on enää vain nämä ja nämä,
se ei riitä, olemme täynnä riittämättömyyttä,
onko mahdollista että se olisi maailmanselityksemme,
sen loppu ja sen alku?

Kuinka kukaan ei saata enää tätä kukkaa sanoa todeksi,
me olemme kuolleet, minä ensimmäisenä,
virastot ovat täynnä jonkinlaista säpinää, mutta ei sen ole niin väliä
kun toivottomuus on keskeistä.

Kukka ei ole enää totta, kadut ovat tyhjät,
elokuvateatterit karkoittavat katsojansa,
kukaan ei ole mennyt kotiin,
minä matkustin kerran Berliiniin, lentokoneella ihan,
se on ainoa ulkomaanmatkani,
olin ulkona,
minulle annettiin ruokaa käteen,
näin itse omin silmin,
se oli semmoinen reissu,
kadut olivat edelleen tyhjät.

****

21.9.

(Tämä on yksi runo.)

Latteus on määritelmämme,
hissit kulkevat tuosta noin ja takaisin, tongittuamme meidän on palattava takaisin ylös,
ylös ylös, alati ylös,
vielä kerran meidän on saatava taivasosamme, vahatut siivet, jotka alkavat sulaa,
kun pääsemme liian korkealle: meille varatut sihteeriköt ovat liian hyvännäköisiä.

Minä olen ennenkin sanonut tämän,
sienissä on metsiä, metsiä on maailmassa, maailma on tyhjä,
ihan oikeasti, lopullisesti,
sieniä on vain olemassa, ne eivät ole maailmassa,
minäkään en ole olemassa, vaivun takavasemmalle,
unohduksiin, uppeluksiin, maailmassa jota ei ole.

Sienet ovat latteita. On olemassa sieni-cappuccino. On latteata sanoa se:
se ei ole mikään määritelmä maailmasta. Eikä riitä meille.
Sihteeriköt sanelevat meille mitä sattuu ja me kirjaamme ylös muutamia oivalluksia.
Oivallus tuskin on se, että ohitse kävelee nainen, kadulla, sydän haarukannokassa, lusikanpesässä.
Joku kysyi kerran, mikä on lusikka-asento.
Se oli yliopisto-opetusta: kerran minäkin vielä voin nousta ja näyttää, että kadut ovat porvarin.
Vallankumousta se vain vaati. Minä olin siellä.
Minä voin sanoa olleeni siellä ja täällä, joka puolella.
Olin täällä tänään, muualla huomenna, tyttöystäväni oli silloin jo kadonnut.

***

Turpea metsikkö, typerä varis, kuinka kuuntelisin sydäntäni:
mies kävelee kadun päästä päähän, on kuin olisi kesä,
talvi meni jo, kohta tulee takaisin mies,
hänellä on päällään turpeesta tehty hattu,
kerran minullakin oli sellainen, istuin alas ja muistin isäni,
joka oli haarukan nokassa, raidallinen paita päällään.
Sellaisia ovat minun muistoni. Kerran muistan menneeni Tarvasjoen lävitse.
Varikset lensivät ohitseni, linnut linnut,
sellaisen biisin tiedän tienneeni lapsuudessani,
oi linnut, linnut, katsokaa tätä maata:
maata vedetään jalkojeni alta
kuin mitäkin mattoa.

One of the best Chases I've read

This must be one of the best James Hadley Chase novels - at least of those I've read. In The Sucker Punch he spins the story of the man caught in the web of fake love, greed and seven million dollars quite well. There's just that it never feels like it takes place in the US. If someone gave it to me without covers or any other identifications and took out the half dozen references, mainly to California, from the text, I'd say it takes place in England. This makes the novel seem pretty empty, without any real content.

I haven't really checked, but I believe the book was first published as by Raymond Marshall, one of Chase's pseudonyms. (Or was it his only one? I'm not sure.) The Finnish title means Dangerous Lust. The used book store clerk has written "Not bought back" on the cover.

I'd say I like the cover, but all the feminists reading this would jump me.

Pulpster at work

Here's me at work. It's actually a promo picture of me after Pulpografia, my first book, came out in 2001.* This was an outtake from a session with my friend Vesa Kataisto who interviewed me for a magazine called Aktivist (kuka muistaa tämän?!) - you see that my eyes are closed and I don't really seem to be doing anything.

The pictures were taken at the office of the Turku Student Newspaper where I was working as an editor at the time. The place seems barren and maybe it really was. The typewriter was, I believe, the newspaper's . I don't know where it's now - it's a very pretty typewriter (had I time, room and money (in this order), I'd collect old typewriters, and perhaps mainly these post-WWII machines).

* Actually it came out in 2000, but it was the day before Christmas Eve, so it doesn't really count.

Edit: I met Vesa Kataisto at the book fair on Saturday and he said that he brought the type writer with him to the photo session. It was from the cellar of Cosmic Comic Café and may still be there.

From Tales of Darkness to modernist Finnish poetry

After I'd read a dozen Tales of Darkness comics I'd found in a trash bin and finished James Hadley Chase's The Sucker Punch (scan coming later), I decided I need something arty and deep. I took a poetry book of Jyrki Pellinen from the shelf and read some twenty poems in it. I've always liked Pellinen's poetry and this prompted me to write some poems (which I posted earlier). Here's one in translation:

names of the kings are like
pieces of wax in a small chimney

the yachts are yellow trees
unspoken light in the wall of the house

three branches marching in line
on the horizon many kilometers away

the blue christmas tree on the yard brings to mind the blue forest
and the people who make no mistakes

(You just gotta admire me - this blog can move from the crudest to the most high-brow with daring eloquence!)

Runoja/New poems

I surprised myself by writing some poems first thing in the morning. Here they are - sorry, in Finnish only. (Huom! Jotkut muotoilut hävisivät jostain syystä. Rivivälejä piti olla alun perin enemmän.)

18.9.2006

Kuolema on pahin kaikista,
kustannussopimus, jazzin kuolema,
me synnymme vielä kerran, tämä on typerä feeniksin tarina,
kuinka me muka vielä saisimme toteutettua itseyttämme,
kuinka kuinka kuinka,
on taannuttu sellaisiin olotiloihin,
joista ei ole poispääsyä: mäkihyppy, verotus, perintäoikeudet,
miten ikinä saamme itsemme takaisin, järjestykseen maamme,
vedet satavat, valuvat pois, me hengitämme haukkoen,
yhteiskunta ei tule vastaan, ei tervehdi, ei ota vastaan lämpimästi,
maailma on kylmä tai lämmin, riippuen mielentilasta,
niitä mitataan asemilla, kaikuluotaimilla, vedenmittausasemilla,
lepakot vaeltavat käytävillä, etsien etsien,
mitä sitten,
kenen hallussa on tieto, on jo päässyt perille,
kukaan vain ei halua perille,
kaikki haluavat olla paikoillaan,
odottaen lähtölaukausta,
kuolemaa.

Käsitavaroissa on aseita,
haarukka silmässä,
nenässä on hippusia, kultaa, hopeaa,
kuparia,
pommit olemme virittäneet jo kauan sitten,
vuosisatain kehitys on peruuttamaton,
meille eivät riitä enää mantrat,
suunnattomat varastot typeryyksiä,
autismi on nykyajan keskeinen ideologia,
haarukannokassa ihmisten sydän.


Kehitys on peruuttamaton. Me emme voi koskaan enää askeltaa taaksepäin. Meille on luvattu tämä. Nämä vuodet ovat kuluneet jo liian kauan. Liian pitkään olemme vaeltaneet keskenämme. Irtiotto tuntuu epäluontevalta. Epätodellinen on myös toiveemme. Että vielä kerran voisimme. Että vielä kerran saisimme koskettaa läpinäkyvää ilmaa, jota emme enää hengitä. Läpinäkyvyys on hallinnoinnin perusperiaatteita. Meitä on hallinnoitu vuosisatoja turhaan. Me emme ole oppineet. Keskuudestamme voi vielä nousta maailmanloppu. Tai maailmanalku, kuka sen tietää. Meille on selitetty kuoleman perusperiaatteet. Kuolema on hallinnoinnin perusperiaatteita. Perusperiaate on myös savu, sen nousu ylös ilmaan ja lopulta haihtuminen. Perusperiaatteita ovat koskemattomuus. Me emme voi koskettaa savua. Se hälvenee ja haihtuu. Usvakin hälvenee. Me emme näe mitään pitkään aikaan. Usva on keskuudessamme. Usva hallinnoi meitä. Perusperiaate on keskeinen. Oikeuksistamme emme luovu. Usva pakenee meitä ja käsiämme, mitään näkemättömiä silmiämme. Usva on me itse. Kuolema ympäröi usvan emmekä me enää tiedä, mistä me saimme oikeutemme.

Away

Will be away for the weekend. May not post. But then again, may post.

Dostojevskin romaanien tasoinen vitsi

- Mitä sanoo K-kaupan somistaja, kun hän huomaa, että sesongin väreistä puuttuu yksi tietty perusväri?

- ?

- Kussa blue?

Erm.. the new issue of Thrilling Detective

I should've mentioned also that the Thrilling Detective site is back with a new issue. It features five new interesting-looking stories and other stuff. The site's head honcho says that the files have 300 new updates - so maybe that's when Michael Power sneaked in. (I'll stop writing now about mediocre stuff like Michael Power. It will be strictly Dostoyevsky from now on.)

Still on Michael Power

Umm... I said that there's no Thrilling Detective entry for Michael Power. Now there is (or then I looked at a wrong place in alphabets; these things may happen).

Okay

I'll kill myself.