Contradicta
Kindness might be blindness when the cruel rule.
***************
Good brings about evil by angering the cruel; evil creates good by alarming the kind.
Monday, June 19
Wednesday, June 14
Contradicta
A flame bursts into being; a wave rises and falls; sounds enter the air and, soon enough, they fade away. Each event leaves an immediate and resonating emotion for awhile. There is no thread, no connection. Only final emotions, among the gratitude that somehing existed, exists, and the memory; we look for a pattern, a story- surely we will remember one- but- soon enough we see this is once again a game, child's play-which is enough but can never be complete, only somehow a cloud from which emerges another burst or perhaps some notes behind a pattern of spray.
**********************
Not much traceable in the thread- in the sands where the patch of fog settled there- maybe a bit of moonlight wrapped in the fog-no message- more like a brief and complete arrival on stage, a definable face or presence followed by its immediate disappearance.
[with a wave to Claude Debussy and Nico Vassilakis]
A flame bursts into being; a wave rises and falls; sounds enter the air and, soon enough, they fade away. Each event leaves an immediate and resonating emotion for awhile. There is no thread, no connection. Only final emotions, among the gratitude that somehing existed, exists, and the memory; we look for a pattern, a story- surely we will remember one- but- soon enough we see this is once again a game, child's play-which is enough but can never be complete, only somehow a cloud from which emerges another burst or perhaps some notes behind a pattern of spray.
**********************
Not much traceable in the thread- in the sands where the patch of fog settled there- maybe a bit of moonlight wrapped in the fog-no message- more like a brief and complete arrival on stage, a definable face or presence followed by its immediate disappearance.
[with a wave to Claude Debussy and Nico Vassilakis]
Monday, June 12
Thursday, June 8
Tuesday, June 6
Contradicta
First I embraced my doubts like they were my closest friends and they betrayed me. Then I learned to send them away quickly, with few words, like a known enemy, and they deceived me. Now I greet them warily and entertain them for awhile hoping to persuade them to tell me why they came. Until I extract their secrets-even if I banish and forget them- they will haunt me to the end of my days
******************
You can't be sure until it's done but then how you did it is already a memory.
First I embraced my doubts like they were my closest friends and they betrayed me. Then I learned to send them away quickly, with few words, like a known enemy, and they deceived me. Now I greet them warily and entertain them for awhile hoping to persuade them to tell me why they came. Until I extract their secrets-even if I banish and forget them- they will haunt me to the end of my days
******************
You can't be sure until it's done but then how you did it is already a memory.
Monday, June 5
Sunday, June 4
Friday, June 2
Thursday, June 1
Wednesday, May 31
Tuesday, May 30
Friday, May 26
Wednesday, May 24
Monday, May 22
Contradicta
There can be no secrets between friends when your silence confides as much as your words.
****************************
Coincidence is a wink in the eye of eternity.
[For Alan Davies]
**
I ran into Alan at St Mark's Bookstore yesterday. He asked me what book I was buying. I showed him-"The Neurotic Personality of Our Time* by Karen Horney. He showed me the book he was carrying in his briefcase, the one he is reading with so much pleasure now: same book. He had purchased his hardbound copy at the Strand. I told him I was carrying in my briefcase, Horney's *Our Inner Conflicts*. We had never discussed our shared admiration for this terrfic writer.
There can be no secrets between friends when your silence confides as much as your words.
****************************
Coincidence is a wink in the eye of eternity.
[For Alan Davies]
**
I ran into Alan at St Mark's Bookstore yesterday. He asked me what book I was buying. I showed him-"The Neurotic Personality of Our Time* by Karen Horney. He showed me the book he was carrying in his briefcase, the one he is reading with so much pleasure now: same book. He had purchased his hardbound copy at the Strand. I told him I was carrying in my briefcase, Horney's *Our Inner Conflicts*. We had never discussed our shared admiration for this terrfic writer.
Saturday, May 20
Friday, May 19
Contradicta
To be an artist is to be forever hungry for things you have never tasted, to relentlessly search for things you have never seen and can't understand, to repeatedly and warmly welcome back the most confused, lonely and unfair part of yourself, and the world- all for the singular joy of having something you can only experience by releasing it.
*******************
Unforgettable music awakens abandoned hopes and forgotten dreams.
To be an artist is to be forever hungry for things you have never tasted, to relentlessly search for things you have never seen and can't understand, to repeatedly and warmly welcome back the most confused, lonely and unfair part of yourself, and the world- all for the singular joy of having something you can only experience by releasing it.
*******************
Unforgettable music awakens abandoned hopes and forgotten dreams.
Thursday, May 18
Wednesday, May 17
Tuesday, May 16
Monday, May 15
Sunday, May 14
Saturday, May 13
Friday, May 12
Thursday, May 11
Tuesday, May 9
Monday, May 8
Sunday, May 7
Contradicta
Wit is used more often to silence than to say.
******************
Ipod therefore I am.
**********************************
A Writer's Lament: the Bipolar side of Blake
Came across this surprisingly personal poem by Blake, written in a letter to Thomas Butts, August 16, 1803.
"O why was I born with a different face?
Why was I not born like the rest of my race?
When I look each one starts! When I speak I offend;
Then I'm silent & passive & lose every Friend.
Then my verse I dishonor. My pictures despise,
My person degrade & my temper chastise;
And the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame;
All my Talents I bury, and dead is my Fame.
I am either too low or too highly priz'd;
When Elate I am Envied, when Meek I'm despis'd."
[Penguin Classics Blake
edited by Alicia Ostriker]
Wit is used more often to silence than to say.
******************
Ipod therefore I am.
**********************************
A Writer's Lament: the Bipolar side of Blake
Came across this surprisingly personal poem by Blake, written in a letter to Thomas Butts, August 16, 1803.
"O why was I born with a different face?
Why was I not born like the rest of my race?
When I look each one starts! When I speak I offend;
Then I'm silent & passive & lose every Friend.
Then my verse I dishonor. My pictures despise,
My person degrade & my temper chastise;
And the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame;
All my Talents I bury, and dead is my Fame.
I am either too low or too highly priz'd;
When Elate I am Envied, when Meek I'm despis'd."
[Penguin Classics Blake
edited by Alicia Ostriker]
Saturday, May 6
Friday, May 5
Thursday, May 4
Wednesday, May 3
Tuesday, May 2
Monday, May 1
Sunday, April 30
Saturday, April 29
Friday, April 28
Thursday, April 27
Wednesday, April 26
Tuesday, April 25
Monday, April 24
Contradicta
The first inkling is that no one else seems to understand what you want. Then you realize you do not know. Then you know.
********************************
The movement of life is like the wind. You can't see it but then a breeze comes along and you notice it's there; or it rushes at you suddenly and almost knocks you off your feet.
The first inkling is that no one else seems to understand what you want. Then you realize you do not know. Then you know.
********************************
The movement of life is like the wind. You can't see it but then a breeze comes along and you notice it's there; or it rushes at you suddenly and almost knocks you off your feet.
Sunday, April 23
Saturday, April 22
Thursday, April 20
Wednesday, April 19
Tuesday, April 18
Monday, April 17
Contradicta
The ever vigilant ape within us (who remains, not out of necessity, but sheer compassion) continues to protect us, in spite of ourselves:- knowing full well that- out of vanity- we will deny its very existence should it reveal its face to us, or anyone else, even for an instant.
******************************
Our affection for the books we love is similar to that of a parent for a child- as much for the fact that they very likely will outlive us as for the qualities we hold so dear.
The ever vigilant ape within us (who remains, not out of necessity, but sheer compassion) continues to protect us, in spite of ourselves:- knowing full well that- out of vanity- we will deny its very existence should it reveal its face to us, or anyone else, even for an instant.
******************************
Our affection for the books we love is similar to that of a parent for a child- as much for the fact that they very likely will outlive us as for the qualities we hold so dear.
Sunday, April 16
Saturday, April 15
Friday, April 14
Contradicta
As you read further into the past writers were more often hopeful but desperately earnest; as you come closer to the present they are more often hopeless yet desperately funny.
*********************************
To span the space between the known and the unknown begin with the gulf between the thought and the said.
****************************************
****************************************
*Shadows Within Shadows* Within Shadows
I googled Tom Beckett's blog Shadows Within Shadows today and found the dreaded Blogger: 404 Page Not Found.
Hopefully, Tom will return to blogging soon. I took this opportunity to reread all the chapbooks by him that I have. They are: *Wagers of Synthesis^ (Zasterle, 1997); *Separations* (Generator, 1988) and *Vanishing Points of Resemblance* (Generator, 2004). Here is a beautiful passage from "Vanishing Points of Resemblance*:
"For years I thought I knew that the accident occurred when I was five. My parents now tell me I was more like two years old at the time. Maw-maw, my grandmother, was driving and stopped abruptly. We'd just, so it has been said, purchased a goldfish. My little head smashed against the dash. Although it wasn't immediately apparent, my brain got scrambled. Up to that point, I'd been developing normally, could do somersaults, perceived spatial relations appropriately, etc. However, one day at the dinner table I flopped forward, began having convulsions. and all that changed. This was in the mid-1950's, an era that didn't celebrate differance. Unlike our current era which pretends to. I became extremely uncoordinated, the physical trauma having created a disconnect between body and brain. All cylinders weren't firing right. My mother's perfect baby wasn't perfect anymore. the coordination problem became worse still as I became ridiculously tall, having reached six feet by sixth grade and eventually topping out at 6'7" during high school."
..
As you read further into the past writers were more often hopeful but desperately earnest; as you come closer to the present they are more often hopeless yet desperately funny.
*********************************
To span the space between the known and the unknown begin with the gulf between the thought and the said.
****************************************
****************************************
*Shadows Within Shadows* Within Shadows
I googled Tom Beckett's blog Shadows Within Shadows today and found the dreaded Blogger: 404 Page Not Found.
Hopefully, Tom will return to blogging soon. I took this opportunity to reread all the chapbooks by him that I have. They are: *Wagers of Synthesis^ (Zasterle, 1997); *Separations* (Generator, 1988) and *Vanishing Points of Resemblance* (Generator, 2004). Here is a beautiful passage from "Vanishing Points of Resemblance*:
"For years I thought I knew that the accident occurred when I was five. My parents now tell me I was more like two years old at the time. Maw-maw, my grandmother, was driving and stopped abruptly. We'd just, so it has been said, purchased a goldfish. My little head smashed against the dash. Although it wasn't immediately apparent, my brain got scrambled. Up to that point, I'd been developing normally, could do somersaults, perceived spatial relations appropriately, etc. However, one day at the dinner table I flopped forward, began having convulsions. and all that changed. This was in the mid-1950's, an era that didn't celebrate differance. Unlike our current era which pretends to. I became extremely uncoordinated, the physical trauma having created a disconnect between body and brain. All cylinders weren't firing right. My mother's perfect baby wasn't perfect anymore. the coordination problem became worse still as I became ridiculously tall, having reached six feet by sixth grade and eventually topping out at 6'7" during high school."
..
Thursday, April 13
Contradicta
The wise philosophize well but are lax about the obvious. Dolts are inarticulate but wary and watchful. Who rules?
*******************************
The warmer the luck the colder the attitude.
4/11
***********************
************************
Which is more important the word or the idea?
Which is more important your feet or the ground?
************************
Be decent- dissent.
4/10
*************************
*************************
Magic remains invisible and unknown because it must by discovered unconsciously and by accident.
It cannot be located, only noticed.
*************************
Words descending like snowflakes or rain.
A few too many and I think about shelter.
4/9
The wise philosophize well but are lax about the obvious. Dolts are inarticulate but wary and watchful. Who rules?
*******************************
The warmer the luck the colder the attitude.
4/11
***********************
************************
Which is more important the word or the idea?
Which is more important your feet or the ground?
************************
Be decent- dissent.
4/10
*************************
*************************
Magic remains invisible and unknown because it must by discovered unconsciously and by accident.
It cannot be located, only noticed.
*************************
Words descending like snowflakes or rain.
A few too many and I think about shelter.
4/9
Wednesday, April 12
A Friend in Need
My deepest appreciation goes out to Christy Church, known to his blogger friends as Toph, whose blog Topher Tune's Times [click here] has been a favorite on my blogging trail from the moment I started out. Toph and I have occasionally stayed in touch by email over the years, and I can't begin to express my gratitude for his work in getting ::fait accompli:: back in working order. What began as a clumsy effort on my part last week to get my site meter back in working order escalated into a major nightmare when I clumsily tried to do things with html I don't know how to do. My thanks also to Toni Simon, Nada Gordon and Drew Gardner whose quick response, support and advice were very helpful as well. Toni put many hours in on an emergency basis immediately and soon made it possible for me to post my Contradicta on the::fait accompli:: sidebar.
Although I never doubted it for a moment, it brings to mind the kind of community we have here as bloggers. I think of all the blogs that have played a crucial role in my daily life for three years now - how much it means, has meant to me:- the ideas, the shared experiences, the links, the responses, the encouragement, the interactive energy- our ongoing community of bloggers.
As Ernesto Priego (Never Neutral) [click here] put it recently "Never underestimate
the power of the blog."
Toph, you're quite a guy in my archive!
As I said in the maxim just below, "Caring eyes think they can see and do anything. They are right." I was right.
My deepest appreciation goes out to Christy Church, known to his blogger friends as Toph, whose blog Topher Tune's Times [click here] has been a favorite on my blogging trail from the moment I started out. Toph and I have occasionally stayed in touch by email over the years, and I can't begin to express my gratitude for his work in getting ::fait accompli:: back in working order. What began as a clumsy effort on my part last week to get my site meter back in working order escalated into a major nightmare when I clumsily tried to do things with html I don't know how to do. My thanks also to Toni Simon, Nada Gordon and Drew Gardner whose quick response, support and advice were very helpful as well. Toni put many hours in on an emergency basis immediately and soon made it possible for me to post my Contradicta on the::fait accompli:: sidebar.
Although I never doubted it for a moment, it brings to mind the kind of community we have here as bloggers. I think of all the blogs that have played a crucial role in my daily life for three years now - how much it means, has meant to me:- the ideas, the shared experiences, the links, the responses, the encouragement, the interactive energy- our ongoing community of bloggers.
As Ernesto Priego (Never Neutral) [click here] put it recently "Never underestimate
the power of the blog."
Toph, you're quite a guy in my archive!
As I said in the maxim just below, "Caring eyes think they can see and do anything. They are right." I was right.
Saturday, April 8
Thursday, April 6
Wednesday, April 5
Tuesday, April 4
Monday, April 3
Sunday, April 2
Saturday, April 1
Friday, March 31
Thursday, March 30
Wednesday, March 29
Tuesday, March 28
Monday, March 27
Sunday, March 26
Saturday, March 25
Friday, March 24
Thursday, March 23
Wednesday, March 22
Tuesday, March 21
Sunday, March 19
Saturday, March 18
Thursday, March 16
Contradicta
Without daydreams between them, experiences themselves tend to become overly dreamlike- one displacing another suddenly and with too much logic -like sequences in a film, inexorable and coming to the point too soon.
**********************************
Ideas come together the way way a body makes itself comfortable. Somewhere, perhaps in the throat, a shoulder or an arm the thought resides. The thought is a link between fragments that might fit together-that want to be together- so they remain immobile until they unite and escape by means of the voice.
Without daydreams between them, experiences themselves tend to become overly dreamlike- one displacing another suddenly and with too much logic -like sequences in a film, inexorable and coming to the point too soon.
**********************************
Ideas come together the way way a body makes itself comfortable. Somewhere, perhaps in the throat, a shoulder or an arm the thought resides. The thought is a link between fragments that might fit together-that want to be together- so they remain immobile until they unite and escape by means of the voice.
Wednesday, March 15
Contradicta
If you are a male, the preponderance of other males will find a way to condescend to you, even with their
dying breath. A panhandler will tell you to "have a nice day" -as if it were theirs to give- or accept your donation with the indifference of a king.
**********************************
Intelligent response is to acclamation as love is to sex. As the latter grows ever more prevalent and public, the former grows ever more private and rare.
If you are a male, the preponderance of other males will find a way to condescend to you, even with their
dying breath. A panhandler will tell you to "have a nice day" -as if it were theirs to give- or accept your donation with the indifference of a king.
**********************************
Intelligent response is to acclamation as love is to sex. As the latter grows ever more prevalent and public, the former grows ever more private and rare.
Tuesday, March 14
Monday, March 13
Sunday, March 12
Contradicta
Self-destruction may feel like rebellion in a society where weakness and doubt are increasingly looked upon as suspect behaviors.
****************************************
The more contemporary life demands acquiescence and assent, the harder, and more necessary it is to something, anything, solo.
Self-destruction may feel like rebellion in a society where weakness and doubt are increasingly looked upon as suspect behaviors.
****************************************
The more contemporary life demands acquiescence and assent, the harder, and more necessary it is to something, anything, solo.
Saturday, March 11
Friday, March 10
Contradicta
Truth cloaks itself in paradox, lies in deception, poetry in obscurity, love in self-effacement. Everything important remains masked.
*************************************
Those that can no longer be surprised lose the capacity to surprise. By being predictably astonishing, some console themselves.
Truth cloaks itself in paradox, lies in deception, poetry in obscurity, love in self-effacement. Everything important remains masked.
*************************************
Those that can no longer be surprised lose the capacity to surprise. By being predictably astonishing, some console themselves.
Thursday, March 9
Wednesday, March 8
Tuesday, March 7
Monday, March 6
Saturday, March 4
Friday, March 3
Thursday, March 2
Tuesday, February 28
Monday, February 27
Sunday, February 26
Saturday, February 25
Contradicta
"Beauty is truth- truth, beauty- that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know." John Keats.
- Maybe so, but not if you live in New York.
*************************************
"Perpetual moderness is the measure of merit in every work of art." Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thanks, Waldo, but I'll take an old-fashioned aphorism any day.
*************************************
Camena longa, vita brevis.
Poetry is long, life is short.
"Beauty is truth- truth, beauty- that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know." John Keats.
- Maybe so, but not if you live in New York.
*************************************
"Perpetual moderness is the measure of merit in every work of art." Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thanks, Waldo, but I'll take an old-fashioned aphorism any day.
*************************************
Camena longa, vita brevis.
Poetry is long, life is short.
Friday, February 24
Thursday, February 23
Tuesday, February 21
Monday, February 20
Contradicta
News and advertising persuade us to memorize what we can't believe.
**************************
Truth is bland, so few ask for seconds; surprise is sweet and everyone asks for more.
**************************
**************************
Imitating well is the sincerest form of revenge.
*************************
Slow and steady comes in like a lamb and gets fleeced by a lion.
News and advertising persuade us to memorize what we can't believe.
**************************
Truth is bland, so few ask for seconds; surprise is sweet and everyone asks for more.
**************************
**************************
Imitating well is the sincerest form of revenge.
*************************
Slow and steady comes in like a lamb and gets fleeced by a lion.
Sunday, February 19
Friday, February 17
Contradicta
Nakedness is universally fascinating except for the naked truth- which must be considered boring- since it is always decked out in controversy, or at least wit.
*************************
Everyone knows what to say- no one knows what to do- except for those who do not care what they say and shoot first.
Nakedness is universally fascinating except for the naked truth- which must be considered boring- since it is always decked out in controversy, or at least wit.
*************************
Everyone knows what to say- no one knows what to do- except for those who do not care what they say and shoot first.
Tuesday, February 14
Contradicta
Beware the sly generosity of the thief who freely distributes the right to steal.
**********************************
If someone takes what is yours you have less, but if you forfeit your generosity you lose everything.
**********************************
**********************************
Flattery and deceit paint a fine smile on imitation's lips in deception's hall of mirrors.
**********************************
The lighthouse is far away and dim on the shores of mistrust's lonely latitudes
.
Beware the sly generosity of the thief who freely distributes the right to steal.
**********************************
If someone takes what is yours you have less, but if you forfeit your generosity you lose everything.
**********************************
**********************************
Flattery and deceit paint a fine smile on imitation's lips in deception's hall of mirrors.
**********************************
The lighthouse is far away and dim on the shores of mistrust's lonely latitudes
.
Sunday, February 12
Contradicta
People go to extremes in order to be different. But the remarkable differences are the subtle ones.
*******************************
Life creates immense variety- but all endings are the same.
*******************************
*******************************
No two thoughts are exactly alike- until someone writes them down.
*******************************
All books exist to end in a thought.
*******************************
*******************************
I read to understand feelings.
I write to understand thoughts.
Sometimes talking helps me to understand what I need to know or do.
But if I want to just understand I stay quiet.
******************************
Understanding is like gladly coming to the end of a chapter of a book you've been totally absorbed in. But still, you don't want the book to end.
People go to extremes in order to be different. But the remarkable differences are the subtle ones.
*******************************
Life creates immense variety- but all endings are the same.
*******************************
*******************************
No two thoughts are exactly alike- until someone writes them down.
*******************************
All books exist to end in a thought.
*******************************
*******************************
I read to understand feelings.
I write to understand thoughts.
Sometimes talking helps me to understand what I need to know or do.
But if I want to just understand I stay quiet.
******************************
Understanding is like gladly coming to the end of a chapter of a book you've been totally absorbed in. But still, you don't want the book to end.
Thursday, February 9
Contradictory Aphorisms (Contradicta)
Never reveal what makes you happy, or at least conceal some things, because unless you can be surprised, you will never be loved.
**************************
Hidden hearts, like flowers in darkness, wilt quickly.
**************************
**************************
One by one the finest philosophers concluded they should no longer try to tell us how to live. Imperceptibly, yet gradually, an immense sadness fell upon the world and the sadists took over.
*************************
Think for yourself or go mad with everyone.
************************
Nota Bene
Contradiction is not a sign of falsity, nor the lack of contradiction a sign of truth.
-Blaise Pascal (1623 - 1662)
(thanks to Ray DiPalma for sending in this quote)
************************
Never reveal what makes you happy, or at least conceal some things, because unless you can be surprised, you will never be loved.
**************************
Hidden hearts, like flowers in darkness, wilt quickly.
**************************
**************************
One by one the finest philosophers concluded they should no longer try to tell us how to live. Imperceptibly, yet gradually, an immense sadness fell upon the world and the sadists took over.
*************************
Think for yourself or go mad with everyone.
************************
Nota Bene
Contradiction is not a sign of falsity, nor the lack of contradiction a sign of truth.
-Blaise Pascal (1623 - 1662)
(thanks to Ray DiPalma for sending in this quote)
************************
Wednesday, February 8
Bachelard's *Dialectic of Duration*
is very interesting and I spent part of my morning reading its captivating phenomenological musings, mostly having to do with Bergson who I should read more of. Then I began considering why I've so frequently defended so-called "bad" poetry when I've heard poets gripe about it. I understood, in my Bachelardian reverie, why I prefer even boring poetry, philosophy or almost any intellectualizing to everyday complaining. I realized this must have happened because even the most trivial poetic or philosophical thinking is more interesting than thinking about my own complaints, even the "legitimate" ones; focusing for awhile on other people's objections to poetry or philosophy or blogging they don't like is still more enjoyable than those seemingly endless repetitious ruminations about everyday annoyances.
What led me to Bachelard? Probably the title of a blog I've been reading regulary lately: Bachelardette [click here]
*************************************
Contradict myself, very well then...
I've been thinking lately about contradictory aphorisms, and how they can both be true. Wasn't it Rousseau who said that if you don't talk about yourself you'll never say much at all; and who was it that said a boring conversationalist is one who talks about themselves, but an interesting one is one who talks about you?
is very interesting and I spent part of my morning reading its captivating phenomenological musings, mostly having to do with Bergson who I should read more of. Then I began considering why I've so frequently defended so-called "bad" poetry when I've heard poets gripe about it. I understood, in my Bachelardian reverie, why I prefer even boring poetry, philosophy or almost any intellectualizing to everyday complaining. I realized this must have happened because even the most trivial poetic or philosophical thinking is more interesting than thinking about my own complaints, even the "legitimate" ones; focusing for awhile on other people's objections to poetry or philosophy or blogging they don't like is still more enjoyable than those seemingly endless repetitious ruminations about everyday annoyances.
What led me to Bachelard? Probably the title of a blog I've been reading regulary lately: Bachelardette [click here]
*************************************
Contradict myself, very well then...
I've been thinking lately about contradictory aphorisms, and how they can both be true. Wasn't it Rousseau who said that if you don't talk about yourself you'll never say much at all; and who was it that said a boring conversationalist is one who talks about themselves, but an interesting one is one who talks about you?
Sunday, February 5
Ensemble
Specific events or declarations (external) or particular insights or revelations (internal) are like notes and chords in melodies that are repeatedly heard and experienced but not quite yet identified or recognized for their irresistible and pursuasive social effects- until well after those infectious, catchy tunes- and the musicians who played and exulted in them- have exited the stage and become part of history. What you noticed, again and again, is that you were tapping your foot all the way home, that's all.
***************
He Who Laughs Apps
Guess what recent superbly hilarious performance inspired the little theoretical object you see above?
Gary Sulivan's performance at the Bowery Poetry Club this past Saturday is already legendary- but hopefully will be appearing soon on Penn Sound, as will, I might expect, Marshall Reese's excellently stirring reading.
(for an excellent evocation of the reading and oeuvres of the two readers, by Jack Kimball [click here])
Gary Sullivan dedicated his final work at the BPC on Saturday, a playlet featuring Jim Behrle and Sharon Mesmer, to Stan Apps.
Here, Oracular Vagina [click here] fluffs flarf. Standard Schaefer, author of *Nova* and *Water and Power* weighs in on googlism, via Lucipo.
While the powers that be barter our beings for a few quarts of oil, the least we can do is entertain ourselves with the flarf whirrs.
-a sunny Tuesday in February
****************
Slam poetics is back!
Read the latest round in Stan vs Stan, the flarf whirs:
Standard Schaefer's response with a response from Stan Apps [click here]
Tuesday afternoon- and still sunny!
****************
You're Toast in an Unquiet Grave
Tony Tost [click here]
has been embedded in the flarf whirs for awhirl now.
-sunset and tea time on Tuesday, Feb 7th.
(Warmest January on record in NY)
Specific events or declarations (external) or particular insights or revelations (internal) are like notes and chords in melodies that are repeatedly heard and experienced but not quite yet identified or recognized for their irresistible and pursuasive social effects- until well after those infectious, catchy tunes- and the musicians who played and exulted in them- have exited the stage and become part of history. What you noticed, again and again, is that you were tapping your foot all the way home, that's all.
***************
He Who Laughs Apps
Guess what recent superbly hilarious performance inspired the little theoretical object you see above?
Gary Sulivan's performance at the Bowery Poetry Club this past Saturday is already legendary- but hopefully will be appearing soon on Penn Sound, as will, I might expect, Marshall Reese's excellently stirring reading.
(for an excellent evocation of the reading and oeuvres of the two readers, by Jack Kimball [click here])
Gary Sullivan dedicated his final work at the BPC on Saturday, a playlet featuring Jim Behrle and Sharon Mesmer, to Stan Apps.
Here, Oracular Vagina [click here] fluffs flarf. Standard Schaefer, author of *Nova* and *Water and Power* weighs in on googlism, via Lucipo.
While the powers that be barter our beings for a few quarts of oil, the least we can do is entertain ourselves with the flarf whirrs.
-a sunny Tuesday in February
****************
Slam poetics is back!
Read the latest round in Stan vs Stan, the flarf whirs:
Standard Schaefer's response with a response from Stan Apps [click here]
Tuesday afternoon- and still sunny!
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You're Toast in an Unquiet Grave
Tony Tost [click here]
has been embedded in the flarf whirs for awhirl now.
-sunset and tea time on Tuesday, Feb 7th.
(Warmest January on record in NY)
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