All posts tagged meta

ephemera

I have built a new writing space for myself. Its name is Ephemera. What is Ephemera?

ephemera (e·phem·er·a)

A fleeting thing.

Printed matter of passing interest.

A plural of ephemeron

[greek from neuter of ephmeros, daily, short-lived. See ephemeral.]

One of the ephemeral flies. A genus of insects including the day flies, may flies, june bugs. An insect that lives only for one day in its winged form.
A Fleeting Thing
Time, life itself, any object is limited. Specifically, a passing thought. I am interested in passing thoughts. I strive, not for “stream-of-consciousness” writing but rather for a kind of “spurts-of-consciousness” writing.
Printed matter of passing interest.
I take my inspiration, first of all, from the printed matter of passing interest. I fell we live in an increacingly “Post No Bills” kind of world, and so, as a writer, I delight in the notion of broadsides; catch-pennies or hand-stapled religious tracts, even the misguided ones; zines; tabloids; grafitti; cocktail napkins; scrawl and margalia of all kinds… Words on the fly! Hot off the press!

Speaking of the press, I am in love with the books of William Blake, more than with their contents. They are beautiful, human books that escape the mass-produced boredom that so often accompanies books that are all the same. He made every one of his books by himself, and each one of them was a little bit different.

Ephemeros
Daily, short lived… life is. Come to think of it, so is an entry in a writing space like this one.
An insect that lives only for one day
My grandmother was a biologist, and a middle school teacher. She filled young minds with awe at the miracle of life, with curiosity about the complexity of, and with the confidence to live it. She showed me fascinating things.

With her life, she showed me how to create real change in the world. She said, “watch this,” once when I was young, during a visit to the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, she somehow commanded the docent to break into a beetle cage, and she held high that enormous, bright green, African wonder, and it jumped on me, and she gave a lesson to everyone in the room about the creature. Even the authorities were impressed.

With her death, she showed me that for all the complexities that life has, eternity is not one of them. When my time comes, I hope to have done enough of what I am here to do, following her example.

And so, without any further introduction, I present to the world “ephemera” I hope you find it to be of passing interest, at the very least.

Revised Stories

I have just revised my collection of short stories, which is one of the very oldest parts of this website. I began archiving my stories when I was fifteen years old. If it has been a while , you might like a fresh look at them. I have added some old favorites, and there are some more from the zine on the way.

brainstorming and bargain-begging

i know, i know, i have been a bad bad blogger lately. I’ve been doing some behind-the-scenes stuff, helping a friend or two with their projects, and working on a new name. I have included my brainstorming below…

HERE’S THE DEAL:

i’ve seen it done elsewhere, and I am enabled to do it myself, so, if after reaqding my frustrated scrawl that attempts to arrive at a new name for my internet home, if you would like to help me, i can help you.

i’ll trade a free gmail account for a good name.

why would you want a gmail account? well, gmail kicks hotmail’s ass, and access is super exclusive right now so all the good names aren’t taken yet. well, “dylan@” was taken, but.. whatever. read all about it, and see for yourself.

notes:

goals:

a good name
an easy web address (dot-tk is free)
something unique enough to be searched for easily
something that isn’t unique enough to be forgotten easily
something that goes with the character of the thing and the character of the person.

brainstorming…

apothegm
omnibus
codex
broadside — i like this word, it means “an all out attack” it means “quick and direct verbal response” it means “a slapdash publication handed out in the street”
electric broadside (taken by a folk band called “broadside electric”
clockwork broadside

** I’ve jsut discovered that a search for “dylan broadside” reveales a certain album by bob dylan

slapdash, a word used above… i like it.

slapdash…

the word means: hasty, not strong, not planned, speedy, careless, rushed …

i’m not naming a punk rock band here… maybe the word is inappropriate.

slam-bang : with force and much noise, also something that happens quickly.


slapdash.tk is taken
….

i am frustrated

Five Days and No Sleep

This is the second set of poems published to the website. i suppose i took ill. for five days, i couldn’t sleep. i could only lie awake, stare into space, and let the trickle of late-night thoughts have their way with me. after about two days i began to sort through some ideas I’d had for some time, things i wanted to write town but hadn’t taken the time to. that’s how it is with my writing. i come up with stuff slowly and carry it around in my head until i think to put it down. i kept a notebook by my bed and took notes.

house in the yard
written for a friend
dream of seas
written while homeless
let up
a rare moment of optimism
sing for song
to a musician
dance some
pedestrian
composed walking to work
two types
a meditation on the qualities of two objects
housekeeping!
a day in the work
under the tree
one of the breakup poems
i came to get
another breakup poem
old flame
still another breakup poem

The NoCategories Manifesto

We invoke the ghost of Hedley Lamarr, calling upon:

“…rustlers, cut throats, murderers, bounty hunters, desperadoes, mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, half wits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, con men, Indian agents, Mexican bandits, muggers, buggerers, bushwhackers, hornswogglers, horse thieves, bull dykes, train robbers, bank robbers, ass-kickers, sh!@-kickers and Methodists…”

and all those who share our goals. We are an Equal Opportunity outfit with no intent or inclination to discriminate on the basis of race, national origin, sex, age, religion, political convictions, sexual orientation, or any other walk of life.

In this spirit, we declare an open season on all of the “Categories” that keep us all from cutting loose, expressing our hopes, realizing our dreams, and knowing and expressing ourselves.

An expressive and meaningful life must overcome the categories that limit our ability to create new things and to express our thoughts and feelings. We, the pilots of No Categories, are interested in giving ourselves a voice, giving a voice to others, and engaging in meaningful dialogue. We study literature, philosophy, and theology; we have learned that these things and other things are useless without relation, without community. Technology continues to revolutionize the means of creative production, trodding the ground of the printing press, the radio, the telephone, the musical studio. We pledge to break down the categories that prevent us all from expressing ourselves fully and to revel in the jouissance and the air of fair play and whimsical creativity and learn from other members of our community.

NO CATEGORIES HAS SOME GOALS:

  • A Forum for ideas, news, thoughts, and leisure,
  • A space where thinking, creative people can share their thoughts and feelings among like-minded peers,
  • A space for writers, artists, intellectuals, academics, and all of the wandering peoples of cyberspace to air their work and keep it safe,
  • And to infect all the peoples of the world with the Word Virus, that microscopic creature that opens our hearts and minds to new modes of expression and new ideas.

OUR INSPIRATION

Three years after he had given his very first poetry reading at the Six Gallery in San Francisco, a poetry reading that put West Coast Beat poets on the literary map, Michael McClure experimented with the psychotropic drug known as peyote. In “Peyote Poem,” he shares some insights of this experience:

“I hear all that there is to hear.
There is no noise but a lack of sound.
I am on the plain of Space.
There are no spirits but spirits.
The room is empty of all but visible things.
THERE ARE NO CATEGORIES! OR JUSTIFICATIONS!
I am sure of my movements I am a bulk
in the air.”

What, you think you ‘re going to have trouble deciphering that one? Imagine trying to faithfully reproduce the typography of a poem where the LAST thing on the author ‘s mind was reproducible tabs and margins, much less a coherent mission statement.

It should be noted that this material merely happens to be published online, because that makes it easier. No categories is a network in the human, not the mechanical sense. And another thing, while we’re on the matter of technology: This Is Not Your Television On the internet, it is all too easy to get caught up in the sights, the sounds, the colors, and the designs of everything. People come to the internet and they expect something like television. They expect to be dazzled with things to see. Often, this expectation takes prescidence over everything else that could be going on until, in many ways, the internet has become little more than an advertising wasteland masquerading as “mass communication.”

Certainly, visual communication has its place, but this isn’t it. We prefer to tinker with words, not pictures. You will be more interested here if you are a reader, not a viewer.

So, there you have it.
Signed,

 

Dylan Kinnett

William Martin

Joseph Chait

Web masters, No Categories