All posts tagged Noteworthy

Manuscript Tracking Software

One of the most important business skills a writer needs is the ability to track the submission process. There’s a maxim out there, variously attributed, which says: “serious writers should keep their work in circulation until it either sells or the ink wears off”.

It can be tricky to keep that circulation going, especially if you’re trying to get a variety of things published. The publishers and media have different requirements about what to send, how to send it, when to send it, the length of the overall process, and so on. This can be confusing.

It is important to record the details of each submission. Surely, there must be a bulletproof system out there, time-tested by professional writers, right? I have set out to find that system, so that I can use it in my writing career. These are the results of that hunt.
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Des Imagistes: Some Imagist Poems

update: This book is available in EPUB and Kindle format. Although the book has been auto-converted, it is still mostly legible, on an e-reader, ipad, etc. It probably won’t be long before someone (me?) uses the HTML version of the text to make a copy that reads well in those formats. Until then, this PDF is still the best version.

Download “Des imagistes, an anthology (1914)”

Des Imagistes was the first anthology of imagist poems, created by the Imagism movement. Imagism was conceived by Ezra Pound, H.D., and Richard Aldington in 1912. Pound explains the tenets of imagism as the following:

  1. Direct treatment of the ‘thing’ whether subjective or objective.
  2. To use absolutely no word that does not contribute to the presentation.
  3. As regarding rhythm: to compose in the sequence of the musical phrase, not in the sequence of a metronome.

Though a relatively short-lived poetic movement, imagism was central in defining English–language modernist poetry.

Des Imagistes: An Anthology

Des Imagistes: Imagist Poems

Des Imagistes was published in 1914 by the Poetry Bookshop in London. In America it was issued both in book form and simultaneously in the literary periodical The Glebe for February 1914. This book contains poems by Richard Aldington, H. D., F. S. Flint, Amy Lowell, William Carlos Williams and Ezra Pound.

Finally, this very rare book has been published online, for all to read at desimagistes.com . You can also download a PDF of the original book.

If you like vivid, precise poetry, Des Imagistes is a book you’ll enjoy.

[ source: Grand Text Auto ]

This PDF of Des Imagistes by CMS10 is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. You are free to share it, as long as you credit its author, “CMS10″ and allow others to share-alike, with this license.

Theory of Empirical Criticism

Today I finished reading The Basis of Criticism in the Arts by Stephen C. Pepper. I promised a friend that I would a quick overview of the four categories of art criticism that are described in the book.

Stephen C. Pepper’s “Theory of Empirical Criticism” goes something like this. Good criticism, even art criticism, is akin to good philosophy. It ought to be rational, and based on evidence. Data, such as empirical observations (i.e. “facts”) can be given as evidence. Feelings and impressions can be given as factual evidence, too. Evidence of feelings and impressions is called “danda” – an often overlooked type of evidence, in the sciences, but a very important one when it comes to art. Evidence of these facts is the only legitimate basis for criticism. (Skepticism is not as good as evidence. Dogma is not as good as evidence. Superstition is not to be confused with danda; it is not evidence. )

Pepper says there are four useful ways to organize evidence. With these things in mind, he proposes four distinct ways to approach art criticism.

Mechanistic Criticism

This is probably the most common, and perhaps the default type of art criticism. Here’s how it works. It should be self-evident that pleasure is good, pain is bad. Mechanistic criticism is a logical extension of that truth. If the art causes pleasure, then it is good art. If it does not cause pleasure, then it is bad art. (The “mechanistic” question here seems to be, “How does the art cause me to feel?” ) Since people have varying thresholds for pain and pleasure, it makes sense that they would have varying standards regarding the qualities of art. Sophisticated mechanistic criticism will delve into the reasons why a work of art can cause pleasure. The mechanics of pleasure can be at work wherever the senses can find it: sound, rhythm, sight, pattern, texture, etc.. Conversely, a sophisticated mechanistic criticism will criticize art in terms of its ability or failure to cause pleasure. If the art fails to cause pleasure, it can be compared to something that does cause pleasure, and lessons can be learned. Mechanistic criticism is often described with words like “hedonistic” or “epicurean”, although those words are unfortunately associated with gluttony. It isn’t really the goal of mechanistic criticism to advocate for gluttony, so much as mere pleasure.

Contextualistic Criticism

This is the type of criticism that would probably be most useful for performance art, theater, and the like. Here’s how it works. All things are subject to cause and effect. With art, the object of art is (usually) the effect. The act of creating the art is (usually) the cause. In any case there’s an event involved, whenever there is art (sometimes the art itself is the event). Contextualistic criticism is chiefly concerned with events, but not just the creation events.

All things are also experienced; they are sensed somehow. With art, the object of art is experienced. It is seen, or heard, or touched or even imagined. So, contextualistic criticism is an examination of those events, the creation and the experience of the art. If the work of art involves a good experience, then it is a good work of art. If it does not involve a good experience, then it is a bad work of art. The “good experience” here is not exactly like the pleasurable experience that mechanism emphasizes. The criterion in this case is the intensity, or the depth of the experience. For example, the horrific tale of Odysseus vs. the Cyclops may be frightening, and therefore off-putting from a mechanistic point of view, but wow what a rush! From a contextualistic point of view, that rush might qualify the story as “good”.

The “event” in question might also be a historical event. Contextualism considers these events as well. For this reason, most of the types of criticism I learned about in college fall under this category: psycho-analysis, historicism, Marxism, maybe even feminism – these are all concerned with factors at play upon the art event. They are all part of the context.

Organistic Criticism

Where contextualism stresses the qualities of the experience, or the event, organistic criticism stresses a unity of experience. The difference is subtle, and I’m not sure I fully understand it yet. In science, organistic thinking is any consideration for a part’s relationship to a whole: atoms and molecules, the classification of species, planets and galaxies, etc. In art, the organistic concern is the unity of things. Is the work of art a coherent whole? Do its parts combine into more than their sum? Are there no extraneous parts? Is the plot orderly? How are the parts connected? Aristotle is a perfect example of an organistic critic. About art and science and literature, he wrote about these things.

(I’d like to edit this post to contain examples of the other types of criticism, as well.)

Formistic Criticism

This one has a misleading name. They all have difficult names, but this one sounds like it should be the name of organistic criticism, which considers the form of things, but no. Formistic criticism is more like psychology, or sociology. (I know, there’s a debate over whether those two things are the same. I don’t want to go there.) Stephen C. Pepper, being an American Pragmatist, had to sneak this one in at the end of his book. I smell an agenda here, so I’m going to attempt to rephrase this category.

According to Pepper: the formistic aesthetic value is defined as conformity with the norm implicit in the art object itself. In addition, formism champions common sense as the ultimate authority on whether a work of art is good, or not.

There is an ancient theory of perception, older even than Aristotle, which states that only like perceives like … A man appreciates in that only a normal man, with a well integrated and relatively free emotional life, can perceive normality. … The norm is embodied there (in the work), and a normal man finds satisfaction because his impulses are in harmony with the impulses of the work, both being normal. … Formism in its stress on the perceptions and reactions of the normal man thus acts as a sort of governor over the whole aesthetic field. It holds art to the healthy golden mean, to what is sane and sound.

Nowadays, I’m not really sure how much we need to appeal to a “healthy golden mean” with our aesthetics. I wonder what that would do to the art market, if suddenly the demand were normalized in spite of all the variety in the product. I’m going to try to rephrase formistic criticism, as a different sort of approach to “the norm”.

If there has never been anything like it before, if it defies classification, a formistic critic will be dismayed. If there has, then the formistic critic will quickly set to work comparing the similarities, looking for the trends, the norms, the –isms and even the post-s. We have formistic criticism to thank for all the –isms in the art lexicon, I think. This is probably the second most common type of criticism, after mechanistic criticism.

How is this talk of –isms different from a contextualist discussion of events, moments, and contexts? I think the difference is that the contextualist would put the emphasis on the experience of the art, but a formistic approach is most concerned with the norms that it embodies.

There Are No Categories!

After that long discussion of –istic –isms, and right after I wash my mouth out, I’d like to question the author of this book on one more point. He says that these four categories are best left distinct from each other. He says, in the introduction, that they shouldn’t be used together. He also cautions against the influence of dogma over criticism, so I’m sure he won’t mind if I try an integrated approach. Why can’t I use them all? Why can’t I use elements from each, as needed? Wouldn’t that be a great way to avoid dogma anyway? Breaking all the criticism into categories is an interesting exercise, for explaining how the criticism works, but is it really useful as a way to conduct criticism? I guess I’ll find out.

Ed Schrader Show

Here it is folks, the video from episode 5 of the Ed Schrader Show. Here I am performing my spoken word routine. Enjoy.

The Ed Schrader Show

Not long ago, Wham City exploded onto the front page of the Baltimore City Paper, branding it the WHAM City Paper. The cover story was titled Crazy Diamonds: Wham City Doesn’t Want To Take Over The World–But It Just Might Anyway. Read the article for a slice of life in my neighborhood. Suffice it to say that Wham City is a collective of creative types, whose work ranges from music to philosophy.

That’s not enough! Also in the neighborhood, the new Metro Gallery opened this month, and hosted Wham City’s favorite talk show: The Ed Schrader Show. Recorded live before a captive audience, the show vaguely resembles the late-night talk-and-variety shows, the kind you see on TV, but this one is broadcast on the internet, occasionally. Unlike the watered down crap on the networks, Ed Schrader’s shenanigans include occasional profanity and startling interview questions like “Would you rather see me destroy the human race, or ruin myself?”. Anything goes, at the Ed Schrader show. Cheap beer, too. Needless to say, a good time was had by all.

 

Episode 4 featured the Charm City Roller Girls, Baltimore’s all girl roller derby league. They boast of their ranking of 18th in the nation!

Next up was an interview with Simeon Walunas from “Shut Up, I’m on the Radio“. As its name suggests, “Shut up…” is a radio show in Baltimore, on the Loyola College AM Radio station. The show features music from Baltimore that you probably can’t hear anywhere else. The radio show is available online, but only via a stream that you must tune into at the proper time (every Monday, 9 to 11pm, which happens to conflict with the Baltimore Poetry Slam). I would much rather the show had a podcast, but oh well.

Finally, in true late-show fashion, we got to see a musical performance by WZT Hearts.

Episode 4 of the Ed Schrader Show isn’t available for your online viewing pleasure just yet, but check with Wham City TV for an update. Meanwhile, previous episodes are available. Here’s a promo, so you know what you’re in for.

Physicalism

I recieved an e-mail today. It sparked my curiosity. Read it for yourself:

Greeetings friends, family, and fellow Physicalists,

For those of you who do not know, Physicalism is the name of we have given the group of ideas we have in response to the current state of contemporary art. In short, Physicalism is pro-beauty and anti-bullshit. We embrace visual ideas and invention and are fed up with the dense, inaccessible, angst-filled, “deep,” and ugly art the art education, art institutions and the art market promote. We do not think that one should need a degree in art, art history, or philosophy in order to be able to “get” or appreciate a work of art. Whether the meaning in a work of art is contained in visual or non-visual ideas, we think that the meaning should be accessible through the physical piece of art itself. We are fed up with looking at ugly- but supposedly “very deep and insightful” – crap. Out with angst, we say! Back to beauty! Continue Reading

Spoken Word, Recorded Poetry, and Hip-Hop

I’m gearing up to make an audio recording of poems read aloud, and along the way I found some very interesting stuff.

When searching for recorded poetry on the internet, it is difficult to decide which keywords to search with. It seems that the recorded poems out there in the world get classified differently, and since I firmly believe that “There are no categories”, the creative challenge here is to find a way to take my favorite elements of each of these groups, and go my own way with them.

It seems, in general, that recorded poetry can take one of three forms: cultural, sub-cultural, or pop-cultural.

Recorded Poetry

I’ll call “recorded poetry” the works of the so-called “major poets”, for lack of a better term. These are works that are typically published in print first, and later read aloud by the authors, who typically have some amount of literary notoriety.

Poetry Archive is an excellent primary source for this material. Poetry Archive an internet collection of, in their words, “the voices of contemporary English-language poets and of poets from the past.” The archive allows its audience to encounter the contents in a variety of interesting ways: poems organized by poetic form, for example, or poems organized by theme, in addition to the traditional organization by title or by author. Unfortunately, there is no chronological arrangement, yet. The Poetry Archive project is still in its youth.

Amardeep Singh, Assistant Professor of English at Lehigh University recently blogged an introduction to the archive: ” If you’ve never heard Yeats or Tennyson reading in their own voices (on wax cylinder recordings), now you can for free.”

Andrew Motion, the Poet Lauriate of England, is involved with the Poetry Archive project, and has written about it in “Hearing the Masters’ Voices” for London’s Times.

I thought it was a pity that no one had thought to record poets in a systematic way, from the time that the technology first became available in the late 19th century.

That way, some of the lamentable gaps in our sound heritage would have been filled…. “The living part of a poem,” [Robert] Frost says, “is the intonation entangled somehow in the syntax, idiom and meaning of a sentence. It is only there for those who have heard it previously in conversation . . . It goes and the language becomes a dead language, the poetry dead poetry. With it go the accents, the stresses, the delays that are not the property of vowels and syllables but that are shifted at will with the sense. Vowels have length, there is no denying. But the accent of sense supercedes all other accent, overrides and sweeps it away.”

These convictions lie close to the heart of the Poetry Archive, which at the time of launching contains almost 100 voices: the great majority being new recordings that we have made ourselves, alongside a good many “historic” ones. (By “historic”, we mean recordings made before we began our project, ranging from the late 19th century to more recent times.) We intend to record many more contemporary poets and also to track down and add all the significant historic recordings we can find. If anyone has Hardy’s voice in their attic, please tell us.

Spoken Word

In an informative article that interviews major players in The Spoken Word Movement of the 1990′s, Mark Miazga takes a stab at the diffficult task of defining the spoken word movement.

It was a renewed fascination with the Beats in the 1990′s that was an important catalyst for an oral poetry movement that swept through the United States youth culture scene. … This has a number of similarities with the 1990′s oral poetry movement, … The term given to this visceral, in-your-face style of contemporary poetry of the nineties was spoken word. Up until then, the term only described non-music sections in music stores that contained non-music comedy, plays, or famous speeches. In fact, there have been a number of issues with the breadth of the term spoken word, which The New York Times has called “pointlessly stiff,” and the relationship of the term with poetry. For example, all poetry read aloud is spoken word, but not all spoken word is poetry. Sometimes, it is difficult to discern where spoken word ends and poetry begins. … This issue of defining and classifying spoken word, and how much of spoken word can actually be termed as poetry, is a problem even for the artists themselves. … that spoken word is, “a blanket term that cover(s) monologues, poems, stories, rap, etc. I like the term precisely because it is so ambiguous and broad.”

Maggie Estep is one of the important names to remember in the spoken word scene. Maggie has recorded two spoken word CDs, NO MORE MR. NICE GIRL (Nuyo Records 1994) and LOVE IS A DOG FROM HELL (Mercury Records 1997). She has given readings of her work at cafes, clubs, and colleges throughout the US and Europe and has also performed her work on The Charlie Rose Show, MTV, PBS, and most recently, HBO’s “Def Poetry Jam“. (There is an interesting interview with Maggie Estep published at Suicide Girls.)

Speaking of Def Poetry Jam, it seems to be the last basion of major media coverage for spoken word preformance, after the demise of MTV’s Poetry Unplugged in the late 90′s. NPR also created one of their patented miniseries on the subject, entitled “The United States of Poetry

While it may not be media-friendly enough to remain in the rankings of pop culture, Spoken Word performances are still supported globally by audiences of the poetry slams, and in places like The Nuyorican Poets Cafe

One of the major fascets of spoken word poetry that’s touted around is the fact that it is decidedly not as literary as the published variety of poetry. Caryn James wrote a New York Times review of the aforementioned MTV Poetry Unplugged show. The review posits Spoken Word as a bridge over the gap between Rap and Poetry, (a relationship I’ve borrowed here) and says:

But most of this is disposable, evanescent poetry. The special is called “Spoken Word,” not “Written Word,” for a good reason. Most of the poems won’t endure for decades, and why should they? Their purpose is different. “Unplugged” assumes that rap is street poetry and that street poetry is a vocal, visceral expression of contemporary life.

“Spoken Word” is just one manifestation f the renewed interest in poetry. In John Singleton’s current film, Poetic Justice, Janet Jackson plays a young woman from South-Central Los Angeles whose poetry expresses her emotional isolation and heartsick response to the death of everyone she has loved. As Mr. Singleton has written in “Poetic Justice: Film Making South-Central Style,” a new book about the making of the film: “Most of the girls I knew growing up, their main creative outlet was writing poetry. Whether they were good at it or not.”

Justice is obviously supposed to be good at it. Her poetry was written by Maya Angelou, now known as the Inaugural Poet.”

So there you have it, Maya Angelou can write, has written, some of this stuff. Do you suppose it will stay “disposable” forever?

Hip-Hop

I’ve said this before, in my thesis:

The realm of aesthetics is one of the playing fields for the ongoing question of meaning in the modern world. For example, the new modern generation uses hip-hop as a form of discourse, often as an expression of anger. By comparison, The Iliad is a similar expression of anger. Both are long and lyrical. Both use death, violence and the possession of women as central themes. Now, bring both forms of discourse to your typical literary pundit and he or she will call one of them art, extolling its universal themes and virtues. The other item will be largely ignored, except perhaps to be passed onto a sociologist. The Iliad, being an immaculately crafted example of the oral tradition epic formula at its best, does deserve its reputation as a beautiful work of art. Any given hip-hop song might even deserve to be dismissed, on the grounds that it doesn’t say anything that every other song in the rather formulaic genre hasn’t already said. However, it should be noted that the genre is new, still formulaic, and while the formula may have some serious problems, there is an undeniable potential there for unrivaled lyrical beauty. Nevertheless, the genre gets largely ignored by the critical eye.

If I were to turn my critical eye toward Hip-Hop, to examine its literary merits, it might help with the task at hand, which is to look for anything helpful for my upcoming poetry recording, but I’m afraid the task would be a daunting one. I’m largely ignorant of the genre.

I found a clue to where those merits might lie in an essay entitled reverse-gentrification of the literary world, which is the preface of a book by Miles Marshall Lewis

Hiphop as a culture and art form graduated from subculture status during the early 1990s, significantly figuring in the lives of worldwide youth and ending its standing as an underground phenomenon. With its mainstream success came more radio-friendly beats and rhymes, and certain characteristics that appealed to its wider audience were forefronted: crass bling-bling materialism; violent rap rivalries that extended beyond records into real-life shootings, stabbings, and murders; the objectification and denigration of women in videos and song lyrics. Furthermore, most modern rap music aficionados had no appreciation for aerosol art, deejaying, or breaking–sidelined aspects of hiphop culture whose former prominence I remembered fondly from the seventies and early eighties. I began to embrace more of a post-hiphop aesthetic, as if a new youth subculture was right around the corner and hiphop was on its deathbed.

Conclusion

My intent was to discover the best elements from a selection of recorded poetry styles, but I’ve only begun to understand the styles themselves. The next step would logically be to find examples of each, and learn to tell what I like from what I don’t like. I welcome any comments that might help with this.

Footnotes, Endnotes & Hyperlinks

The Institute for the Future of the Book has posted a review of a recent article in The Atlantic Monthly. The review compares this article to hypertext, by calling it “hyperlinks in print

ifBook describes David Foster Wallace’s cover story about talk radio in the April issue of The Atlantic Monthly.

Wallace is well-known for his copious use of footnotes & endnotes, and this article is no exception. However, either Wallace or The Atlantic’s art director have decided to treat his digressions differently in this case: words or phrases in the main text that signal a jumping-off point have lightly colored boxes drawn around them, rather than a superscripted numeral after them. In the print edition, boxes in the margins – one immediately thinks of windows – with notes in them appear, color-coded to match the set-off phrases. Some of the notes have notes; they get more boxes of their own.

The review also makes an interesting note about the interface a reader encounters when using Adobe’s Acrobat PDF reader.

The Atlantic Monthly has often served as a haven for hypertext ideas in print. Vannevar Bush wrote the essay As We May Think,” which was published in the July, 1945 edition of The Atlantic Monthly. Both call “for a new relationship between thinking man and the sum of our knowledge”.

Approaching the end of World War, when American Science had been devoted extensively toward developments for the war efforts. Vanevar Bush proposes that future progress depends upon, and should “implement the ways in which man produces, stores, and consults the record of the race”. He argues this based on the fact that the complete store of information is growing more complex and specialized. By the middle of the 20th century, specialized information was not necessarily accessible to the few specialists capable of understanding it. Further complicating the accessibility of information was that fact that all of it was in print, occupying so much physical space and so many different spaces. Bush urges developments toward changing that. In addition, Bush argues for a new structure for the information which is to be stored in new ways:

Our ineptitude in getting at the record is largely caused by the artificiality of systems of indexing. When data of any sort are placed in storage, they are filed alphabetically or numerically, and information is found (when it is) by tracing it down from subclass to subclass. It can be done in only one place . . .. Having found one item, moreover, one has to emerge from the system and re-enter on a new path.

The human mind does not work that way. It operates by association. With one item in its grasp, it snaps instantly to the next that is suggested to it by the association of thoughts, in accordance with some intricate web of trails carried by the cells of the brain. . . . Selection [of information] by association, rather than indexing, may yet be mechanized.

“As We May Think” develops the subject of the mechanized indexing of information, arranged by association. Bush describes a postulated “device,” a “mechanized private file and library” which “may be consulted with exceeding speed and flexibility,” a kind of personal computer and research assistant. Vannevar Bush’s ideas were foundational to hypertext theory, so much so that it seems his article is describing the Internet. A description of a typical interaction with such a device, for which he coins the term “memex,” is a description of an associative path through the written record, from general to specific and down divergent paths along the way, each leading toward other specific points. This is a description of what has become a common experience. The process Bush defines, using technology very similar to what he describes: these are commonplace parts of the research process anymore. The path of these associative trains of thought is a familiar path now, and Bush says that it is because we think this way ourselves.

The Legend of Alexandre The Savage Gnome

Oddworld

Step this way folks, into a carnival atmosphere of human oddity and depravity, inexplicable beauty in the strangest places, ironic affections, and betrayal. Thrill to to sight of some of the world’s most exquisite dolls. Chills to the very bone!

The world is full of unlikely monsters and unbelievable saints, and stories, like this one, that are as hard to hear as they are to believe, but worth telling anyway.

Technology is Only Technology if you Didn’t Grow up With It

Jenny, a self-professed “information maven” writes a blog called “the Shifted Librarian.” And its good reading. IN a post about commerical trends and the internet, and how those trends might relate to libraries, she quotes an interesing passage from Douglas Adams

Because technology is only technology if you didn’t grow up with it:

“Another problem with the net is that it’s still ‘technology’, and ‘technology’, as the computer scientist Bran Ferren memorably defined it, is ‘stuff that doesn’t work yet.’ We no longer think of chairs as technology, we just think of them as chairs. But there was a time when we hadn’t worked out how many legs chairs should have, how tall they should be, and they would often ‘crash’ when we tried to use them. Before long, computers will be as trivial and plentiful as chairs (and a couple of decades or so after that, as sheets of paper or grains of sand) and we will cease to be aware of the things. In fact I’m sure we will look back on this last decade and wonder how we could ever have mistaken what we were doing with them for ‘productivity.’ “

I’m glad I found “The Shifted Librarian”. I’m trying to make a change in what kinds of blogs I read these days. Right now, the list of blogs that I follow is absolutely crammed full of design blogs, partially a function of the fact that designers are most likely to publish the feeds in the first place — but I’m not really all that interested in design. Or, at least, I try not to be.

The Hook

It doesn’t matter what I sing, just as long as I sing it with inflection.:: John popper Hook

I think I must have brought the other side of my personality to the poetry venue tonight. A few short weeks ago, I got up on stage, I raved, I ranted, I was blunt and obvious, and fast, and new. My work was well received.

I’m good on stage, and I believe that this is the result of practice. In a former lifetime, I aspired to be an actor. All that now remains of that lifetime is a paragraph buried in a short story that no one has the time to read:
The Grand Mother

Her last audition was too much. The fat, bald director gave her four minutes to give two monologues. Her first was three minutes in length, the second, one. She had a two-minute version of the longer monologue prepared, in case length was a problem. The producer told her that a three minute/one minute combo would be fine. The director had other ideas.

seat and slapped her with his bad, plosive breath.

“You try that three minute crap again, and you can kiss a career in theater goodbye.” Amelia kissed the slug. She didn’t know what else to do. “Goodbye.” she said. The Director had her physically removed. Amelia hated being forced to leave. But, she deserved it. So, she made up her mind. She really was leavingTime is of the essence, apparently, and I think it’s strange the way it loops around itself, bringing repetitions. It was a slow night at The Venerable Old Venue tonight. Many of the hipsters are likely keeping their livers home tonight, after the Fourth of July weekend, and besides, it is summer, after all. I was careful to place my name in the middle of the list, reserved for twenty, but I happened to be third on stage.

I took a risk. Sensing the lull in things, I reached into my bag of tricks for an extra poem, an academic poem, if I dare say so. What do I mean by that? Let’s put it this way. Typical fare at The Venerable Old Venue consists of a variety of subjects and styles, categories to which my poem compares to by seeming like something in a textbook.

Those subjects are politics, sex(uality), politics and sex(uality), and the politics of sex(uality). I understand, believe me, I understand as much as I can from where I am, that there is a lot of frustration there, whole lifetimes of it, and that it is good poetry to release that pain and anger in a welcoming environment. I know I know I know I know already I know. Its just that, well, I actually am listening, and it actually does hurt. It hurts to be begged for money in the street on the way home from work and it hurts to eat such a meager meal myself at the end of a day like that, and then when I spend the money I skimmed from dinner for my entertainment, I end up hurt all over again.

The style for these subjects seems to be one that favors immediacy. The audience can typically be seen scrawling out the poem they are about to perform only moments before the mic goes on and the lights go up, and this is in a bar, where the work can be not only immediate, but lubricated, and it is in a crowded bar, so that, in addition to being ‘edgy’ in all the acceptable ways, and immediate, and lubricated, it is short ‘ albeit for diplomacy’s sake, in case the poet is not to anyone’s liking, and in case there is a line at the mic.

I am all for preaching the cause. What strikes me as redundant is preaching that cause to those who are about to preach it themselves for an extended period of time. It seems like nobody really came here to listen, only, at best, to hear. As in ‘It doesn’t matter what I sing, just as long as I sing it with inflection.’ Something else that strikes me as redundant are the poems written by those students of poetry classes, poems about poetry classes, poems by students who got their money’s worth, clearly.

And here I am ranting, which is what they want. Perhaps I have just discovered why there is so much ranting in the first place.

Anyway, my little academic poem was not well received. It wasn’t immediate enough. It needed to be read slowly. It didn’t have any attitude. It didn’t have no swagger and sway, and I didn’t write it today, and it wasn’t three minutes short enough, so they shooed me offstage. I had saved for last the poem they would have liked most.

All that said, I will return to The Venerable Old Venue, and its spirit of ‘SLAM’ next week, at the same time, with my dinner money and a poem clenched in my fist. I may strongly dislike their rigid expectations, their attention-span limitations, and the fairly democratic time restraints, but I know the alternative all too well, where there is no venerable venue at all, and all the words, no matter how short, they go unread, and unheard as well as un-listened-to. Surely someone in there is listening’ maybe the scribbling one might even pick up an ear. I think something might come out of a compromise between a sentiment like mine and the things that go on in this competitive poetry boxing ring. I’ll come back, because I’m hooked.

Online Almanac

For the benefit of those who may not know so much about this historic publication, a synopsis is in order:

“Poor Richard’s Almanac” (sometimes “Almanack”) was a yearly almanac published by Benjamin Franklin, who adopted the pseudonym of “Poor Richard” for the purpose of this work in the title. It appeared continuously from 1732 to 1757. The almanac was a best seller for a pamphlet published in the American colonies; print runs typically ran to 10,000 per year. It contained the typical calendar, weather, and astronomical and astrological information that an almanac of the period contained. It is chiefly remembered, however, for being a repository of Franklin’s aphorisms and proverbs, many of which live on in American English. These maxims typically counsel thrift and courtesy, with just a dash of cynicism.

My fascination with old texts reproduced electronically has led me to ruminate on the difference(s) between the old texts and the new.

Today I stumbled upon a copy of Poor Richard’s Almanack, 1733. Of course, it is ever so much more fun to see what the old book used to look like, rather than to scroll through a text-only version, so you may prefer a facimile copy.

This sounds to me a lot like a certain sector of the material that is self-published today, on the internet on people’s web logs or on homepages… call them what you will, they’re almanacks some of them.

This gives me an idea, perhaps for an interesting way to catalog my links and also for a way to dig up more of the old items I’m finding. I’m quite sure that a large amount of what’s out there on the internet can be classified in very old ways: there are books of commons, almanacks, and other such things out there that simply don’t go by those names. Granted, some of them could only go by those old names by a stretch, but its something I would like to peruse. I wonder if anyone has taken a look at this before.

Mediawork gets in the way sometimes!

Upon reading the Mediaworks Pamphlets’ Online Supplements I have begun to develop a complaint. Mark Bernstein posted to his blog a few days ago about software aesthetics, and I think my complaint here might be of a similar vein.

The Media Pamphlets come in two forms, and invariably I found myself preferring the text only format to the confusing, flash-y, and way-too-multilinear, “special” documents. A complicated thingy with a bunch of links and a text only version of the same thing really opened my eyes to how much time really can be wasted by an interface. Rather than waste time with links to things I can’t see, I could skim the whole contents at once, using headers instead of links to point me to where I wanted to go. I simply skipped the paragraphs with headers acting like links I didn’t want to follow — and even a page mostly full of text I didn’t want loaded so much faster than a confusing but pretty page of design I didn’t want.

Surely there is some way to present text in a more dynamic way than text-only, and yet in a way where the design doesn’t get in the way.

I would love to link to particular parts of the web supplement, for example, but the link structure will not allow for that, so I can only refer to the entire thing. The lexicon word map is cute, but poorly legible. For a system like that, the perfect word map I think you should consult the visual thesaurus online version.

Starving Hysterical Naked

I remember a lecture from creative writing class. When Nick died I came to the professor, in the middle of my mess, to tell him that I wouldn’t make it to class on the day of the funeral. When I came back, he read, for me, no, for Nick – He read “Howl,” by Alan Ginsberg. You know the poem:

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night…

This same professor, showed me, once, the early paintings of Vincent VanGough. And the story, poor man! He never once, in his lifetime, saw the sale of even one of his paintings, which are now, of course, considered masterpieces the world over. His early paintings were startlingly unlike those masterpieces. They are dark and grim. They are dismal and boring. They are something like Edgar Alan Poe, set to canvas, but without any poetry. My advisor showed me the last of the paintings, on a postcard, and then he showed me the very next painting he made. The thing positively explodes with an impossible, a glorious yellow. Yellow was Nick’s least favorite color. In fact, he detested it quite furiously, as all of his furies were fierce, in their own way. What happened to Vincent? How could he possibly have gone from that first kind of painter to the second, from miseries to masterpieces?

Vincent VanGough had a father who loved him very dearly, wanted nothing but the absolute best for him. His father wanted him to work in the ministry, where he would be excellently well cared for and where he can do something of real significance for the world. Vincent tried, and failed. He had this other thing that he did, and all the time that he did it, he could probably hear his father in the back of his mind, saying to him discouraging things, reminding him of money and prosperity. After all, these paintings of him — they never sold, not a one of them. The reasonable thing for his father to do was to discourage him from something fruitless in the hopes that he might blossom somewhere else. His father grew bitter with Vincent. Then, his father died.

Free from that voice in the back of his mind, Vincent discovered a certain quality of yellow, one he had not been at peace enough to see previously, he discovered other things too, things it must ahve taken courage to relate. After all, his painting of the starry dynamo, it was quite unconventional considering the penchant for cotton candy paintings that ran rampant at that time.

It looks to me like you have three options in life. You can be “destroyed by madness,” You can capitulate to the voice of a critic, taking it into you, swallowing it — or you can look toward a brave yellow, even if you’re hungry, even if you’re poor.

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