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We here at 'Finger On The Pulse' are shattered by what happened.
Nothing like this has ever happened to me. I can’t tell you what it feels like to part of something like this. It’s horrible and it will stay with me for a very long time.

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Like all of us, we only knew these characters in his story through the way they were described in his publication, SEVEN ELEVEN, The Cash Register Files. There are characters in this Interview story who only came into play with this Interview and I wish we could have known more about their backgrounds, it might have helped. Probably not. It’s fair to say there were warnings, which we ignored.
I’ll never forgive myself. Honestly, never.

Once again the artist/ author Dennis Balk punches holes in the plastic veneer of pop culture and its money, money disposable aesthetics. His work from the past several decades has consistently undermined the categories and genres of art making which keep aesthetics palatable for pedestrians. This Double Volume story is a collection of oddities wrapped up in a conspiracy that trembles with originality. 

This former New York artist represented by the notorious enterprise American Fine Arts, now gives pop culture another run for the money, this time in a convenience market. This Double Volume collection of streamed voices, transcribed surveillance audio tapes, t-shirt graphics and the perplexing tedium of a group trapped in a Seven Eleven is literature in a very raw form.

A maverick artist with another engaging tale to tell.

The Exhibition Novel format works well to contain the multiple personalities of the author as
well as the multiplicity of characters in this Double Volume collection of the Seven Eleven story.

A perplexing trip which ultimately leads to many loose ends and conspiracy theories which defy resolution. A radical shot in the arm of the high/ low culture of literary aesthetics, to be expected from this long time visualist and story teller.

If William Gibson, Neal Stephenson, J.G. Ballard and maybe Warhol's distant cousin got together in a convenience market to solve the riddles in this pop culture trip, this is the document they’d generate in an attempt to wrangle it all in. Not a typical novel in format but it is a bright light in an otherwise dim genre.

The Personality was organizing itself in the data stream noise, avoiding problems like misplacing DNA in a chromosome. The stream was organizing all of these broken fragments into coherent rows of isolated thoughts within a container of semiotic sameness, as it downloaded into the cash register. It was glutted with billions of icons and pieces of slogans and particles of visual culture, we were only trying to get our t-shirt designs to the client. 

Now that the T Shirts have been sent out to the clients and the M*A*S*H actors finally learned their lines. The expectations of honesty are inherited. A public performance of introspection. The Cowboy Mouth of sincerity. Sam Shepard’s Slim struggling with the meaning of it all. Actually I adore the idea of Cowboy Mouth. Can’t stand Patti Smith. All that ranting about arty stuff. Shepard’s struggle was real, or so it seems. Her’s was record contract club hipster invention.

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