Fresh Fish (1 Viewer)

Hey Wolves!
I'm from Portugal and a big Bukowski fan for a couple of years now. I can't remember when or how I came to know Bukowski but I do remember the first book I had. It was given to me by a girlfriend during a critical time between us, it was 'The Last Night Of The Earth Poems'. She nailed me to the wall with that gift. First, because, even though I'm a man, I have a soft heart and I couldn't break up with somebody who just gave me a book like that. Even now that the relationship is long over, I still remember her everytime that I grab the book. Damn, I almost hate her for that. Its like a tattoo that you can't forget because you see it everytime you look at the mirror.
Second, because the words in those pages filled more than the time that I took while reading them. Those lines usually made me company through the rest of the day. Hell! they still do now! Reading is a lonely action but with Bukowski in my hands I really felt more like that. Alone in the café, reading Bukowski while drinking my beers. I was in my own world. My own thoughts. It was in that time of my life that I stuck to the habit of constantly changing the bars and cafes that I go to read or write. I'm always searching places where I'm not known. The problem with that is that that becomes kinda of impossible after a couple of days in the same spot. You always start knowing people, start talking to them or they with you. The only problem with loneliness is when you don't chose it. Eventually you have friends all over the place when you just want a quiet place with cold cheap beer.
Well, since I started to read Mr. Charles Bukowski I've never stopped. I always have some of his books around. Be they letters, short stories, novels, poems, interviews, you name it. I'm addicted to his written word. Bukowski changed the way I see poetry (I've never liked it or even read it before him). And more important, Bukowski changed the way I write. Its like Christ. There's the Before and the After, but unlike Christ, Bukowski didn't have to die for it. And since Buk wrote so much we have that much to read. But there are books that I already bought but haven't read, for the same reason that once I read somewhere a guy saying about Cervantes's Don Quijote: "Lucky is the one that its going to read it for the first time.". Even in movies... I haven't seen 'Barfly' yet. Yes.. yes... I know. But understand and give me my time. Like a kid waiting to open his Christmas present. Like a lady that undresses in front of you instead of showing up naked already. Its my pervert secret pleasure.
But I have already bought and seen "Factotum", "Tales of ordinary madness", the documentary "Born into This", the "The Charles Bukowski Tapes", 2 DVDs of 2 of his poetry readings ("There's Gonna Be a God Damn Riot in Here" and "The Last Straw"), and random videos, listened to his poetry tapes and read tens of his books. He is undoubtedly my favourite writer.
I have a plus on my side by the fact of being Portuguese. Almost nowbody knows Bukowski here in Portugal, so its like he is my unkown literary GOD. I can almost fool myself on thinking that I'm discovering Bukowski. In Brasil (they also speak portuguese) Bukowski is very famous but I have had a look to their translations and that's like painting a chicken to look like an eagle. It just shouldn't be allowed. Fortunatly I can read in english but its too bad that are people that just know Bukowski from their petty, horrible, turd-like translations.

Well, and now comes the main reason why I joined this fine community of Buk followers. I'm now reading the "Selected Letters: v.1 1958-1965" and (in the timeline) Buk was the Outsider of the Year. I have seen some posts here in the forum that some of you have read /or possess such a beauty... The Outsider #3. Wow. I have to scratch myself by just thinking about it. Nowadays those magazines are almost impossible to find, see or buy. Even more here in my small country.
I have been in the mindblowing to see if he had the scans of the entire magazine. But he just as the cover. Does any of you have the scans? Sorry about asking for it like this. But as Bukowski fans yourselfs I think that you can understand my intense and almost sickened curiosity in reading any of the Outsiders but especially the #3.
It is horrible for me to think that I will never be able to read it. Hope you understand me. If I were a wealthy man I would just buy them no matter how much they ask for it. But I am not. My wealth is only in the soul. And at the time I really really feel the need of reading the Outsiders. I know that I will not be able to feel and smell the paper but at least I want to be able to see the beautiful art work and read the beautiful lines written there. I know you guys understand me, that is why I'm asking you.

My email is: [removed]
Just in case I'm writing this in the wrong post or in case any of you brave-drinking-kind souls want to ease my pain with the Outsider.

I say goodbye now and will drink one for you!

Ed Tinto
Porto, Portugal
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...but I have had a look to their translations and that's like painting a chicken to look like an eagle....
Or painting an eagle to look like a chicken.

In any event, congratulations on the longest first post in history.


You are unlikely to find scans of the inner pages of an Outsider issue because those things are very fragile. If you opened it flat enough to scan you would break the spine. The horse glue they used is old and brittle.
Much in the style of Poptop you do have a lot of words there. Welcome, I can see we will know what's on your mind. Nice first post, you should publish it.
Hey that was fun to read, man. Reads more like Henry Miller than Buk, though. You sound like you'd be fun to share a jug with. How was Tales of Ordinary Madness (the movie)? I have but haven't seen it.
Hi Ed Tinto, welcome to the forum. quite an enjoyable post. when I read this, I said, damn! why did I post a serious bs for my intro!

In Brasil (they also speak portuguese) Bukowski is very famous but I have had a look to their translations and that's like painting a chicken to look like an eagle. It just shouldn't be allowed. Fortunatly I can read in english but its too bad that are people that just know Bukowski from their petty, horrible, turd-like translations.

I read you man. Recently I read some Persian translation of Bukowski, they were terrible. The toughness, the intrinsic simplicity, they were all missing in the picture, something unforgivable. The funny thing is over there (in Iran) he is known by "Bokoofski" (WTH!). Even his name was screwed up in the translation.
So, El Tinto,
you read english
well you could have fooled me
thats for sure
if I'm sure about anything
which I am not
hi Ed, welcome.
I still have to read that long post, but from what my fellow friends here said, it's worth the time. So maybe later that night...
Thank you all for the warm welcome and sorry for the late reply.

@Jane's Addiction - Yep, I'm always in for a chat and a drink. You can easily find me with an elbow in a counter that serves alcohol. As for the movie "Tales of Ordinary Madness", I personally liked it. It had the slow, quiet, meditated Bukowski felling on it, even though there are some controversy with if Bukowski liked it or not. I read an interview once where is mentioned that the actor (Ben Gazzara) bragged a lot and that he even said to have out-drinked Bukowski on an night out. That made Bukowski angry because supposedly it was a lie.
I'm going to put the movie in my company's server in case you want to download it. Just for a day or two then I'll delete it. So be as fast as a lady in search for her panties.

@dijhony - ahah, 'Bokoofski' must had roll over in his coffin for that one.

I've arrived yesterday from the "Avante! Festival" and I am still recovering from it. It was one hell of a festival.
You can say that Avante! ( () is a party with political purposes but it is much more that that. It is more social that political. It is the perfect excuse for you to have 3 days filled with concerts, food and a lot of drinking. Its a gathering of generations, a pot full of freaks and housewifes, a blend between the new and the old, the modern and the traditional. You look to one side and see a kid wearing a 'Che Guevara' t-shirt and smoking a joint and you look to the other side and see a big-belly old grandpa with a big moustache and a jug of red wine in his hand.
Politically speaking I'm apolitical. I have ideas and ideals but I don't go along with the stripes on the politicians suits. In Douglas Adams's "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" the real President of the Universe was an old man who didn't care for the job.
The irony of it is that in the real world the only kind of person that should have that kind of (political) power are the one(s) who don't want it. The ones that are running for a political position are greedy, or about to become.

The festival opened with an Opera Gala. It was a typical summer night and we were lay down on the grass in front of the stage passing a bottle of wine. I was with my girlfriend and with Chico (with whom I've had plenty of drunken nights) who is the father of my best friend. The orchestra walks in, then a midget maestro follows them, and the music begins. I looked around and saw a sea of people on the ground. Right then, while the music kept playing, I remembered a Bukowski poem (or story). I can't remember the name of it, but it was about one time that Buk went to see a classical music show but left after a couple of songs. He was enjoying the music but hated the crowd so he went to his room and listened to the music in his little radio instead.
Well, this was an entirely different case. There wasn't a dress code and no snobs in sight either. Just the music and the will to listen to it.
The night started to get cold and the wine was long gone, then the music stopped and the band stood up, the sopranos walked in and together with the maestro they all vowed to the audience. After that they played one more music.
Rossini's 'Guilherme Tell'
And that fucked everything up. What was such a beautiful night ended up with me having that song jamed in my brain, my mind shattered like a plate broken in the kitchen floor. I couldn't think of anything else than that, all my thoughts were stuck in my brain like a cork in a wine bottle.
And with the song came the image of the riding horse! I just wanted some peace, some quiet and a glass in my hand and I ended up with a symphony in my head.
If Rossini wasn't dead already I would've killed him myself.

Ed Tinto

Can anyone identity the author or the name of this painting?
It deserves the title: Jim Morrison is Dead
Obrigado, Ed

Got to get over to your neck of the woods one of these days. Any locale suggestions for an aging Buk fan with Portuguese lineage who drinks to excess?

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