We have been fighting WWII since 1939.

The roles have shifted, the enemies have changed names, but the same conflict has been playing out for all this time: the clash of civilizations. Not political theories, but the clash of global omnipotence — how it shall be managed and to whom it is allocated.

Since the dropping of the bombs on Japan in 1945, it has been played out against the backdrop of the growing probability of worldwide destruction. When you have seen the shadows burned into the concrete, it becomes nearly impossible not to embrace your own darkness.

In Africa children have been raped to avoid death by AIDS. In the Balkans villages become rape camps and graveyards. In the Middle East men and women turn themselves into Death itself in the attempt to create life for those left behind and to find their own immortality. In China gorges are drowned in the hope of creating a monument to guaranteed power. In Russia theater-goers and school children become fodder for the vision of freedom. In Western Europe and America riots and individual acts of violence are the paroxysm of individuals crying out for their own importance.

Is it any wonder that our most watched shows are shows of the Survivor archetype? The lone survivors walk away from their individual battlegrounds after seeing the elimination of all who came before and struggled with them. Rewards await them and yet they weep for those who’ve gone before, and for their own relief at having survived.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. I don’t really know where to go.

From the lovely diva_dot. A five question interview.

1. You have one night and an endless supply of hot rock-n-roll chicks, and you must pick one for some good sex, plus two runners up…in case the first one has a headache or something. Who’s it going to be?

I’ll go with Carrie Brownstein of Sleater-Kinney, followed by Brody Dalle/Armstrong and Jada Pinkett-Smith. (She’s fronting a heavy metal band these days, so I feel justified in that one.)

2. You can only pick 3 foods to eat for the rest of your life. What are they?

Fresh, authentic Mozzarella cheese, sun-warm vine ripe tomatoes, and extra-virgin olive oil.

3. You and I somehow get the opportunity to hang out for an entire day. What are we going to do?

Girl watching, baby!

4. Godspeed You Black Emperor wants to take you on tour with them so you can do your poetry with their music. There is one condition: they want you to appear at all shows either naked (if the venue allows it) or wearing a housedress made out of black garbage bags. What do you do?

Considering they are pretty much an instrumental band, to turn this down would be a great dishonor. I’m there. Just gimme a couple months to recover from the tummy tuck.

5. You are given yet another golden opportunity: you must put one celebrity that you hate out of his (or her) misery. Who’s going to kick the bucket in the end?

Adios, Joan Rivers! And if I can use explosives, then Melissa Rivers is gone too.

Hey babe, I’m horny.
Wanna fuck? I promise I’ll
last longer than — oops.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, it’s short, but I
swear there are enough
syllables in it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uh, uh, uh , uh, yes,
yes, yes, uh, oh, yes, yes, yes,
now! Now! NOW! Ah…zzzz.

that the people who are most worried about online theft and unfair use of their work are usually the ones who have the least to worry about?

The sound of footsteps in the kitchen just woke me up. It wasn’t Gary, and Isaac is out of town. It was in this apartment (the linoleum creaked) and not up or down stairs.

I heard it AFTER I woke up and was sitting up as well. An investigation revealed nothing.

I’ve suspected a presence in the apartment for a while — weird issues with lights being turned on and off, etc. — but this was the first thing I’ve noticed that sounded distinctly human.

Ghosts — if you want to call them that — don’t bother me in the least. I find them oddly comforting, to tell you the truth. I have no idea what they are (that whole “lingering departed spirits” thing doesn’t ring true to me) but the idea that we might share space with others is intriguing. It makes me hopeful for the other wonders that may be out there still.

I want to put in another plug for the Online School of Poetry, and specifically for the course I’ll be teaching there starting on June 11.

I’ll be teaching a course on taking personal and political work to the next level. I’m really excited about this.

In order to run this course, I’ve got to recruit at least six students. I know that 200 bucks seems like a lot of money for a course, especially to the world of impecunious poets, but in truth I think that’s pretty reasonable for an eight week online workshop.

The school in general is a cool idea — it’s got a great faculty (and I’m not just saying that because I’m on it) including Tom Daley, Patricia Smith, Regie Gibson, and Quincy Troupe.

Please go check out the course descriptions and if you can’t do it yourself, pass it on to anyone you think might be interested.

Thanks in advance.

some days are better than others
some days are better than others
some days are better than other guys’ — and some days aren’t.

this is one

i am so tired, even though these days come less frequently than they used to…

1787.38. Suspension issues, brakes, valves, etc. About what I expected, within about 200 bucks.

Isn’t that special?

Of course, it was all compensated for by the lovely travel mug they gave me.

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I also picked up a cable for the guitar. They gave me a 50% discount cause they like me. I think.

Power chords are in my future…no delicate jazz tonight.

1. My car’s in the shop today for what promises to be a good chunk of money. However, I should be able to cover the costs no problem and the beast will be ready for a road trip or two, if everything goes well.

2. The new/old guitar sounds really good. Nice and clean, with a broad range of tones, although I suspect it’ll growl well with a little extra gain. However, my amp’s in the trunk of my car and I’ve got a short in the cable, so any significant playing will have to wait till later, maybe even tomorrow.

I haven’t taken any pictures yet, but it looks like a period dinosaur. Jay did as little modification as he could — a jack in the side, screw holes for the pickup, and a couple of screws to hold the knob assembly onto the pickguard. I like it — it looks right for its era. He also was able to keep the original clear knobs, which we weren’t sure was going to happen.

All this and new flatwounds for all of 62.00. Not bad.

3. Today is going to be spent working on the curriculum and set up for the online course. I’m excited to use the software package — it’ll not only help me with this course, it’ll help me in the future with other things I may be doing.

4. I took a long walk in the woods yesterday up at our local wildlife sanctuary and saw frogs, a ribbon snake, and two of the fastest moving woodchucks I’ve ever seen. It was nice to get out in the quiet and the woods and just think.

5. I haven’t been writing as many poems lately. I think this is a double edged sword — I like what I have been writing, while recognizing that the relative lack of the human interaction I used to experience at work is affecting how I think about poems — I just am not talking with people often enough to have my head fed. It’s ok though — I like the direction the new work is taking me. I’m even starting to think about a new chapbook of the Jim poems when I’m finally down with them.

6. On the down side, I just watched “Teletubbies.” Dear God.

7. XM Radio rules. I heard a ska show yesterday that pleased me mightily.

My archtop is now an electric. Complete with vintage DeArmond pickup.

I go now to retrieve it. Pictures soon.

YAY!

Tired of the radio selection around here, I splurged (slightly) this AM and bought an XM Satellite receiver for the car.

Installed it, drove out to a local mall on a hill where I’d have “an unobstructed view of the sky” and let it set itself.

Tuned to “Fungus 53” (punk-hardcore-ska) and immediately received the blessing of Black Flag’s “I’m The One.”

At 60 bucks for the receiver and 12.95 a month, it’s really more than I should be paying out while trying to figure out my finances. I considered it an act of hope for the future.

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Thinking about punk the other night, listening to KEXP’s “Sonic Reducer” program — hearing punk music from the last 30 years or so — I began to realize that punk has become its own insular canon that can be heard separately (for the most part) from the broader “rock and roll” canon.

I think it’s almost the same as the way that so many slammers only know the poetry of other slammers.

Not sure what this means…just an observation.