10-29-2023, 10:30 PM
Muchas gracias for the lucid explanation re: Redskins.
I couldn't find my Emerson collection in print, but I'll maybe buy one or read it online. I'm a visual learner, and in my current, health-menaced state of mind, this probably isn't the time to try to change horses.
Fear is my new taskmaster. Rather than face it head on, I'm in the phase of seeking out the most challenging distractions I can find. So I watch English soccer on TV (no commercials, God bless them) or coming here hoping for a new poem to critique. Already burned out on Gertrude Stein. I'm thinking of Finnegan's Wake for my next reading assignment.
All this Business about Genius and Self-Reliance isn't all that fashionable, or, rather, it's fashionable but never the fad. That's overemphasized in this Tell Time By What's Being Posted Aeon. This is the Era of Cringe. The Cry from the Heavens and the Hells and everywhere between is Diversity! Inclusion! Yet people don't feel that way. They must feel that way, they must feel included and that they are inclusive in regard to others, but they don't. The Era of Cringe is a world where everything is a Mirror. And all the Mirror sees are Creeps, Pervs, Stalkers, Racists, Social Justice Warriors, Colonialists, Aliens, Narcissists, Privilege, Cancelations, Weirdos, Attention Whores, Capitalists, Socialists, Mass Shooters, Skeevies, Junkies, Reactionaries, Fly Over Country, the Elite, etc.
Whether the Redskins and Palefaces and their crosspollinated Nation sees it or not, they have a richness of Tropes and Materials to engage with and new and old-fashioned ways. Genius only selects for the sake of Art. Everything in a Right place.
The Church of the Subgenius, long in decline, offers me a satirical refuge for me from this Era of Cringe. Their sermons, as found in their various underground/briefly above ground publications were describing something similar about the 70s into the 80s' and on, but in a "fuck-em if they can't take a joke" mode.
Unfortunately I can't pray. When my son got cancer at 16, I tried prayer one time, waiting for one of his medical tests to come back. First and last time I tried it.
The strange thing is I've been throwing the I Ching coins regularly and was getting nothing but glowing reports about my future. So I'm legitimately confused at what's happening now. I'm reduced to reading about disease which is the opposite of reading poetry.
Then again, better this is happening to me, rather than someone I love (a very small circle).
I couldn't find my Emerson collection in print, but I'll maybe buy one or read it online. I'm a visual learner, and in my current, health-menaced state of mind, this probably isn't the time to try to change horses.
Fear is my new taskmaster. Rather than face it head on, I'm in the phase of seeking out the most challenging distractions I can find. So I watch English soccer on TV (no commercials, God bless them) or coming here hoping for a new poem to critique. Already burned out on Gertrude Stein. I'm thinking of Finnegan's Wake for my next reading assignment.
All this Business about Genius and Self-Reliance isn't all that fashionable, or, rather, it's fashionable but never the fad. That's overemphasized in this Tell Time By What's Being Posted Aeon. This is the Era of Cringe. The Cry from the Heavens and the Hells and everywhere between is Diversity! Inclusion! Yet people don't feel that way. They must feel that way, they must feel included and that they are inclusive in regard to others, but they don't. The Era of Cringe is a world where everything is a Mirror. And all the Mirror sees are Creeps, Pervs, Stalkers, Racists, Social Justice Warriors, Colonialists, Aliens, Narcissists, Privilege, Cancelations, Weirdos, Attention Whores, Capitalists, Socialists, Mass Shooters, Skeevies, Junkies, Reactionaries, Fly Over Country, the Elite, etc.
Whether the Redskins and Palefaces and their crosspollinated Nation sees it or not, they have a richness of Tropes and Materials to engage with and new and old-fashioned ways. Genius only selects for the sake of Art. Everything in a Right place.
The Church of the Subgenius, long in decline, offers me a satirical refuge for me from this Era of Cringe. Their sermons, as found in their various underground/briefly above ground publications were describing something similar about the 70s into the 80s' and on, but in a "fuck-em if they can't take a joke" mode.
Unfortunately I can't pray. When my son got cancer at 16, I tried prayer one time, waiting for one of his medical tests to come back. First and last time I tried it.
The strange thing is I've been throwing the I Ching coins regularly and was getting nothing but glowing reports about my future. So I'm legitimately confused at what's happening now. I'm reduced to reading about disease which is the opposite of reading poetry.
Then again, better this is happening to me, rather than someone I love (a very small circle).