My known proclivity for speaking euphemistically, liberally applying language in unconventional pairings, at times creates a gap between utterance and comprehension. Which is to say that my sense of lingual play , and what I have to say is not always clear to the unfamiliar ear, and requires a little, uh, facilliation.

a texter faq

So, what's the big idea?

"So, like, where is texter territory? What is it?"

Texter territory is the scenic multi-textual representation of the world as viewed through my editorial eye.

What is a "truxus"?

Once upon a time I published a zine featuring indie rock, underground culture and titillating theory. In the grand tradition of cultural appropriation and recreation, my friend and I named the zine "Flux", inspired by the avant-garde art movement, "Fluxus". (And because we felt that the phrase "Flux" most accurately reflected or psychic landscape...)

Years later, I was logging on to my first commercial online service. When prompted to create a user name, I immediately tapped out on the keyboard "flux." Well, isn't that special. It seems that about 613 other users had requested the name prior to my little brainflurry, as my prompt little service responded that although "Flux" had already been requested, "Flux614" was available.

Not. Desperate for email, I had to think quick. I made a quick inventory of the cultural detritus I have amassed around me, searching like a well trained consumer for the artifact that best signified "me." Then she dawned on me.

In the winter of 1991, my grandfather, Fred, handed over to me the keys to his 1977(the year punk broke!) F150 Ford Ranger Pick-up truck. My grandfather had been a sheep rancher in his day, and the truck had been his modern day cow-pony. Retired, Fred no longer drove the truck, which had been relegated to collecting dust off the highway in Stockton, California.

I was instantly enamored with the truck, and determined that she be mine. My grandfather found my coveting curious, but acquiesced. I named my truck Desdemona, or Dezi, for short. Dezi and I have driven back and forth across the country, from backroads of Bakersfield to the white mountains in New Hampshire, and all over in between. She is my couch on wheels, my parking predicament, my style statement, my gas guzzler and my muse.

Back to my nameless commercial online service and the pursuit of my first email address. A sytactical compromise congealed in my mind. I cleared the text box and typed in the perfect online alias: truxus.

Some engine, some ingenuity.

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Copyright 1995-1996 G Marks. All Rights Reserved.