There’s erotic haiku, there’s haiku for Jews, I’ve even known a dusty poet or two to trade crafty passersby a beer-4-haiku in my day. But one of the original haiku artists was Félix Fénéon, who penned thousands of pint-sized reports in French newspapers called faits divers. Marilyn Johnson reviews Fénéon’s Novels in Three Lines, compiled and translated by Luc Sante.

The first three SMITH readers to send us a three-line take on the war, O.J. Simpson, the pennant race, Dan Rather, or the economy will receive a copy of this book. Send your miniature news reports to news at smithmag dotnet.

*Whose book, The Dead Beat: Lost Souls, Lucky Stiffs, and the Perverse Pleasures of Obituariess, nous adores.

Haiku from Flickr user glindsay65.

Or, rather, what did you do that you weren’t supposed to be doing, and couldn’t quite tell your class in grade school? The popuLIST wants to know. Which is to say, listen up class, as this week’s reader question is:

What did you do on your summer vacation that you could never have told Teach about?

Send your answer to Rachel [at] smithmag [dot] net (in 100 words or less, please). We’ll post our favorites on the blackboard called SMITH’s front page.

Here’s what I did on my most recent summer vacation. Funny thing is, it was a working holiday. Really.

Today, I shall be your Guest Viral Video poster as Alex Koppelman has not been heard from since the Larry Craig scandal broke (coincidence?). Plus, I found this video, which is an excellent primer on how we feed our prisoners, from Slate—and Koppelman’s boss at Salon doesn’t like him putting his fingers in the enemy’s pot.

Even if you’re not a prisoner of love, I promise you this is the absolute best video you shall see all week. Maybe next week, too.

Two quotes found within:

“The average prisoner can be fed for about $2.25 per day for three meals. We not looking for exactly grade A type products; you know grade B, which is fine. It’s all about price with the prisoners.”

“They get a lot of good food.”

That’s the sweet six-word memoir of a New Yorker in London, who just blogged about our six-word memoir project, as well as about other spots to share your stories online. Six words also received a shout out from About.com’s recent mention of the six-word memoir project as a part of its Adult Education situation. Who knew?

Another six pick: In the spirit of the six-word memoir, SMITH has proposed a panel at the famed and fun South by Southwest Interactive conference. It’s like this: conference attendees propose many of SXSWi’s panels. Then, anyone can cruise through the list of panels and vote on what sounds good (and you can do so even if you haven’t been to the conference or even plan on attending). Our panel, Best Thing I Learned: Six-Word Lesson from the Past Year, is pitched as a way to hear from tons of entrepreneurs and media makers about what they’ve learned via our fun and effective six-word form. It’s like a six-word poetry slam for geeks. Read more about it, register (it’s free and I promise you takes 30 seconds), and, please please please vote for six!!

Six pic from Flickr user Leo Reynolds.

In what the first Lady of Comic Criticism, Heidi McDonald, calls “a significant show” in her Publisher’s Weekly column, the Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art (MoCCA) has a new exhibit, “Infinite Canvas: The Art of Webcomics.” Among a who’s who in the current webcomic explosion are SMITH’s own Dan Goldman (who, besides his amazing feat that is Shooting War, was called one of the medium’s best-looking artists by Gawker) and Josh Neufeld (whose A.D.: New Orleans After the Deluge, is now officially our second smash hit and whose latest creation answers, in gurgles, to the name Phoebe), as well as a list of luminaries: Penny Arcade, PhD, Sluggy Freelance, User Friendly, Diesel Sweeties, Mom’s Cancer, Supernatural Law, Questionable Content, Something Positive, Scary Go Round, Achewood, Narbonic, Goats, Scott McCloud; many ACT-i-VATE artists, including Dean Haspiel (above, with Goldman), Tim Hamilton, and Jennifer Tong.

The show opens to the public on September 14, and runs through mid-January. Join the crew for the opening reception tonightGoldman and Haspiel shot, totally lifted from Flickr user, and we suspect friend o’ SMITH, rhcooper.

So here we are. The sixth anniversary of 9/11. September 11 fatigue seems to be kicking in for many of us, and surely the big media will do their best to cover it. But in the end, there remains no more powerful way to tell, and retell, 9/11 stories than from the most personal (compared to, say, political) perspective. It’s how the story started, after all. In truth, one of my inspirations for this very site was how the “Newspaper of Record” chose to tackle this story: one person at a time.

We tell stories to remember what happened. And whether firefighter, family member of victim, resident of downtown Manhattan, or total stranger to the city, everyone has a 9/11 story. And, just as six years ago folks reached out in extraordinary ways (simple acts such as sharing cabs went a long way), perhaps today you can use the anniversary to reach out and ask the person next to you in the elevator or the burger line, “So, what’s your 9/11 story?”

It’s not a new idea. It’s not even news, really. But for today, this day, when perhaps you don’t want to look at another thousand tragic photos or read another thousand words about why we still haven’t found Bin Laden, I’d like to think that sharing a story with your neighbor—because we are all that, if nothing else—is one of the most honest and heartfelt ways to remember.

Photo credit: Flickr user crossfirecw

We’re so pleased to publish an excerpt of Josh Swiller’s just-published debut memoir, The Unheard. Here, SMITH’s memoir editor Rachel Fershleiser, writes in an intro to our excerpt:

Deaf since childhood, Swiller always perceived the world a little bit differently than everyone else. And post-collegiate indecision hits a bit harder when you’re looking for a place beyond deafness. As a Peace Corps volunteer in Zambia, Swiller found a place where, if his deafness wasn’t irrelevant, it was at least not the most unusual thing about him. He worked at a health clinic, facing universal poverty and disease, and later, personally focused violence. In his new memoir he proves it is not just his worldview that is unique, but his literary voice.

Swiller also recently wrote a stirring Lives essay, adapted from his book, in The New York Times, and he’ll be on NPR’s Weekend Edition this Saturday, September 15. To the first-time memoirist, we say: congrats, enjoy your book release party tonight, and here’s to many happy reviews.

There’s nothing that makes us happier than when we hear from New Orleans and Gulf Coast locals that A.D.: New Orleans After the Deluge rings true and in some way resonates with their own story. The second anniversary of Katrina brought quite a bit of attention to A.D. but it’s extra special to see a discussion about our webcomic on the popular blog Metafilter. Here, posters offered sentiments like, “[A.D] captures the spirit of the city, its neighborhoods, and the people in a way I’ve not seen elsewhere, and with great economy” and “I’m halfway through chapter 2, and even though I know what happened - in the general sense, at least - I have this ohgodwhatsgoingtohappennext feeling. Reckon I’ll be crying soon.”

As the thread continued, some readers were moved to tell their own Katrina stories. Our motto at SMITH is “Read a story. Write a story.” That’s the hope, really, that some of what you read here, whether it’s about Hurricane Katrina or an odd job you once had, inspires you to tell your story. After all, everybody has a story.

Also on the New Orleans storytelling tip: friend o’ SMITH and filmmaker (Outfoxed: Rupert Murdoch’s War on Journalism, WAL-MART: The High Cost of Low Price) Robert Greenwald has a new film (more…)

By Patrick J. Sauer

“Ah, Ray Charles, it doesn’t get any better, does it?”

I looked up from a crouch to see who was offering unsolicited opinions on my holiday shopping, assuming I would give a friendly nod and move on down the aisle, when lo and behold…

Elvis Costello wasn’t watching the detectives.

He was watching me peruse the music DVD selections at the Union Square Virgin Records, and he approved of my selection.

“He’s one of my Mom’s favorites,” I said, acting nonchalantly while wondering if Costello wears the black-on-black suit-and-tie every time he leaves the house, even to go to the gym or to get coffee and the Sunday Times.

He glanced at Ray Charles: Live in Brazil, bent down to eyeball the other choices and nodded.

“That’s a good one,” he said.

Sensing our brief time together was about to end, I tried to come up with a topic of conversation that could prolong the relationship. I nixed telling him I was a big fan (unoriginal and uninspiring), brushed aside asking him for another DVD suggestion (being ignored or rejected would hurt too much), considered—then rejected—telling him my favorite wedding gift was a bottle of Johnnie Walker Gold and two tickets to see Elvis Costello & Impostors at SummerStage (a personal anecdote I’m sure he’d appreciate, but not really anywhere to go with it) and then, just under the wire, it hit me.

“I was down in New Orleans this year,” I said.

Instant rapport!

Costello looked at me through his Roy Orbison glasses and with all the seriousness an angry young man from way back could muster, he replied,

“Wasn’t Bruce incredible?”

“It might be the best show I’ve ever seen,” I said, “and you guys were great too.”

The thumbnail is this: In 2006, Bruce Springsteen and the Seeger Sessions Band headlined the first post-Katrina Jazz Fest and brought New Orleans to its knees (in a good reverential bearing-witness praying-man kind of way, not like FEMA.) It was as moving and religious an experience as anything I’d ever been a part of, and I was simply a tourist come down for the crawfish etouffe.

And prior to Springsteen, Elvis Costello and Big Easy mainstay Allen Toussaint had played a set, primarily songs from their collaboration The River in Reverse. It was smaller in scope than the Boss, but no less heartfelt, as Toussaint listed everything great about his hometown. He even name-checked the Muffuletta sandwich while encouraging every local to “Come…Back…Home…”

“Thanks,” Costello said, “that was just…Bruce was amazing…New Orleans…”

He shook his head, lost in the moment. Our moment. I was prepared to leave it at that, but then he laughed and said,

“I didn’t know that was out already.” He pointed to the concert DVD version of The River in Reverse. I thought about reaching down and buying one, but that seemed way too fanboy, and concerts on television don’t do much for me. Fortunately, Costello was just pointing out the coincidence and not asking me to prove my love.

“Have you ever seen Allen over at Joe’s Pub?”

“No,” I answered, adding (honestly), “I saw he was playing there last month, but it was sold out.”

“Allen plays there a lot. Next time he’s in town, come check him out,” Costello said, “maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Cool,” I replied. I didn’t want to be a pest, so I pretended I was still shopping. A minute later, I looked around–

Elvis had left the DVD section of Virgin Records.

Patrick J. Sauer’s last Brush With Fame was about meeting Norman Mailer.

For those who feel better just knowing James Gandolfini is on your tube on Sundays, you might look at Tony Soprano in a new light when you watch him interview 10 war vets about their “Alive Day,” the day they barely escaped death on the battlefield. “The fight doesn’t stop when you get home,” Cpl. Jacob Schick explains. (more…)