Look! A rare photo of Finnegan Flawnt in his work room. He’s still mystified by information technology. And he hangs on to his 1978 Apple II computer. They’ll have to pry it from his cold, dead hands. Flawnt is fond of the past. The past is all around him. He’s also terribly fond of alliteration, cliché and butterflies.
On the old man’s face, you can see the amazement at seeing that his piece “Rites of Spring”, published in >kill author, was named a “storySouth Million Writers Notable Story of 2010″ (alongside many, many other fine texts). “Rites of Spring” was the first flash collection that Flawnt had put together – and it still is one of his favorite pieces, he doesn’t know why exactly. Perhaps it’s the final image that gets to him, the bear putting his paws in the sunny water. Perhaps it’s spring itself, or the sound shades of Stravinsky, the old musical grump.
Some things mellow his resolve: beautiful voices. Like the voice of Nic Sebastian when she reads “the human adventure” on Whale Sound, a wonderful, soundful place that “celebrates the web-active poet”. Somewhat contemptously, maybe because he’s jealous that Speh lives on while he’s dead, Flawnt snorts: “Dada!?” and instantly begins to think pink thoughts.
Other things pass him by. They’re too contemporary, like “synergy”. Blue Print Review celebrates the concept of synergetic transformation in its latest issue – “Short Cuts“, a collaboration by Catherine Davis and Marcus Speh is an example. “Just sit down and write, everything else is crap“, Flawnt says to himself, to his blueish screen, but we don’t quite believe him, do we, because he looks to one side of the screen where stories, pictures, biographies, remarks, fragments, comments form a complicated, hypertextual pattern that smacks of “Gesamtkunstwerk“. It got something this notion of creative collaboration. He just doesn’t know what it is or how to get there. He sighs with an Irish accent.
That which makes up the ‘lack of totality’ in Dasein, the constant “ahead-of-itself”, is neither something still outstanding in a summative togetherness, nor something which has not yet become accessible. […] Ripening is the specific Being of the fruit.
He quickly closes the book again.
“Germans,” he says, shakes his head slowly and nods off. Existentialism puts him to sleep. In his dream, he marvels at the wonderful balance of all things.
Finnegan Flawnt was a pseudonym used by Marcus Speh. Flawnt died on Bloomsday 2010. Despite various obituaries and assurances by friends and colleagues that Flawnt actually was gone, his pretty face kept creeping up in places like Fictionaut and maintains a virtual presence in the memory of those who loved him and his quirky stories.