Chapter Four concludes with a job at the New York Times travel desk, a bit of music from the Monk Quartet, and a rotten act from Norman Mailer.
From an ongoing interview and biography of John Wilcock, a prolific editor and publisher of 1960's underground newspapers. Visit John's website for an entertaining weekly column of news and commentary.
Bonus Material—From previous episodes in the John Wilcock comic:
Arriving in New York (1954)
Co-Founding the Village Voice
Editing Norman Mailer
Norman Mailer's Columns for the Village Voice
A Young Norman Mailer is Haunted by His Future Self
and Old Norman Mailer Battling Young Norman Mailer
We return with Chapter Five next, 1960!
A book of John Wilcock comics is now available
A comic strip about Freddie Herko, who was a captivating and influential artist in New York, until his untimely death at age 28, in 1964. From John Wilcock, New York Years. (Supplements include Andy Warhol’s screen test of Herko and an appreciation from The Guardian)
Is Andy Warhol’s eight-hour film a supreme act of considered minimalism, or one of the 20th century’s most notorious art pranks?
Light used to just be one of two things: on or off. Simple as that. Either a flood of yellow or total darkness. Then the dimmer switch happened and you could adjust the brightness to meet your seductive needs and suddenly everyone looked a little better in the gentler light. And now your luminary universe […]
Projects will always need management. And now with the tech gold rush it feels like there are more projects than ever with fewer managers than there’s demand for. But it takes too much time and money to go back to school full time so luckily the Project Management Professional certification training course is now 96% […]
If you’ve been blessed enough to avoid them yourself, you’ve definitely heard the horror stories. Late night, crushing out a ton of work, writing, coding, anything, then boom – your computer crashes. The battery blows, you spill water or coffee all over the place, or it just shuts down with no explanation, and you’re screwed. […]